The view out the porthole was spectacular, and Jane could never quite get used to it.
Earth, the blue, white and green bubble floating below in some surreal sea of black. This close you couldn't even see the stars unless you were on the night side; the brightness of the planet completely overwhelmed you.
There were six of them on the station, a typical rotation, and in one day a ship would be arriving to take them home. Not that Jane had much to go home to, since her husband had served her divorce papers a week before leaving for the station. Cocksucker. At least it had given her time to think, when she wasn't completely busy, that was.
Her three months on the station had been a pleasant diversion, since she'd always wanted to go into space. She loved the lack of gravity, but hated what it did to her hair. Every morning she would look at it and feel like she was in a rock opera from the sixties.
She heard the hatch close behind her, and turned to see Samantha. "Why close the hatch?" Now it was just the two of them.
She liked Sam. She was slightly younger, a petite little thing from Alabama, with that sweet southern accent. Jane could hardly imagine a more different world to grow up in from her home in London. They had gotten along well during the trip, and were well into friendship that they expected would last beyond this one voyage. She had been a godsend for Jane, given her husband's actions, and many a night had been spent out of earshot of NASA talking about it, often with tears.
And Sam would just be there, always patient, always helping.
"I have a confession," she said to Jane, who threw here a confused look.
"NASA says that officially there has never been sex in space. I don't know if that's true or not, there's always rumors about a couple of flights, but I guarantee there's never been lesbians in space."
Jane laughed. She was kidding, right? "So you want to have the first lesbian sex in space?"
Sam nodded.
"With me?"
Again.
"Well how flattered I am!" Jane jokingly pushed at her friend, but the look in her eyes said it all. "You're serious?"
"You bet your succulent british ass I am."
Jane was speechless. She tried to say something a few times, but was gobsmacked at every turn. What would she say? Did she want this? She had found herself admiring her friend's figure several times over the voyage, but that was no more lesbian than admiring someone's shoes. Or so she thought. Had she sent out the wrong signals?
Sam placed her free hand gently on her arm. "Honey, I know you're not a lesbian, but I do like you, a whole lot, and maybe more, and you don't have to do this, but it would sure fulfill a fantasy of one tired, stinky, wrinkled old American."
Jane laughed. Her friend was good at making her laugh. "Sam, I don't know, I just...that's not my thing, I just never-"
"Listen, why don't we just try something."
"Okay."
"Close your eyes. Don't worry! I'm not going to tear your clothes off or anything! I'm just going to kiss you. And I don't want you to think about it, just feel it."
Jane sighed, but closed her eyes.
A moment later she felt the softest skin brush her lips, and realized it was Sam's own lips. They were moist, and Jane felt the blood rush to her head. It was intoxicating.
After only a few seconds, Sam's tongue gently licked the inside of her lips, stroking upwards, forcing it's way to her teeth. God it felt good. She hadn't had a decent kiss in...well, since long before her marriage ended.
Jane found herself opening her mouth, sucking that tongue onto her own, savoring it, wrapping her lips around it and playing with the tip of her own. She had no idea how long she enjoyed that, but at some point Sam pulled away, and Jane almost gasped with disappointment, opening her eyes.