Everything's fine.
Famous last words that rang of déjà vu.
The worst rollercoaster of my life, no rails or safety checks--not even a hand to hold. Eventually the friction became too much and everything burst into flame while tumbling downwards faster than a speeding bullet. I shouldn't have been the only one with a fighting chance to breathe in the acrid smell of molten metal and sweat a few moments longer as the fire dome disintegrated--exoskeleton shed, leaving only the raw middle of the escape pod. Even under the layers of the spacesuit and flannel, I could feel every thick black hair on my body from my legs to my back prick up in the fear of those that find they are mortal.
The throttle dug into my palm. The parachutes deployed. And against all odds, a splash echoed against the leaded walls, lapping against the buoyant pod with the promise of life. But water?
The g-force left me dizzy, legs like jelly. With a grunt, I unlatched the hatch door and stepped into the light.
Green flooded my vision. All around were trees reaching outwards and upwards from a deep forest. Some were twisted together like they were fighting for dominance to tower above the rest. A light fog hovered over the rippling lake that I'd crash-landed in.
I counted two suns in the sky as I unsuited down to my flannel and work jeans. If the air or the water was going to kill me, might as well get it over with.
Wind teased through the curls of my beard like a set of sensual fingers as I clambered over the opening, and the cold shock of water--real water--saturated my clothes as my arms cut through the murky lake and brought me to shore.
I undid my belt buckle and stripped off my drenched clothes and ran my hands over the roughness of my face, over the two faded scars under my pecs, over the slight pudge of my stomach; trying to pinch myself awake. Every muscle and sinew under my skin felt as solid as it had back on the freighter before the impact.
Earth-like but alien--what the leaders taking refuge on Mars wouldn't do for a new colony. But that shit was above my pay grade.
More importantly, "I, Ravi Gupta, have survived."
Disbelief whistled through my teeth as I announced it. I let the weight of the words settle in my stomach before they rose up and transformed into ecstasy, weaving between the angles of my flesh. Everything became vibrant: the martian mud, smoother than silk, oozing between my toes, the chill scraping at dark, hardened nipples, and life throbbing in my dick. Warmth pulsed as I ran my finger over the shaft.
I recalled when my cock once hid in the shy embrace of my sex before expanding into the proud stalk of now, sprouted forth like the flower of my manhood. Small but mine. I couldn't remember the last time it filled with such yearning stiffness. Not for a decade at least. Not since Apollo and his whiskey breath on the dusty plains of Earth.
Pine-perfumed air filled my lungs as blood rushed between my loins. Sitting on the bank, filled with the urge I'd lacked for so long, I stroked until I came. My cock jumped in my hand. A bang, then relief, then the weight of orgasm. The weight of everything.
Everything's fine.
Last words for some. I still couldn't accept all the crew were gone like that, disappeared into the vacuum of space in a puff of smoke. Cas had three kids back on Mars. Shang had just gotten married. The radar blipped for a split second. If only I had paid more attention, then I wouldn't have nine more people's lives on my hands.
I punched the ground until my knuckles stung, cock limp while every avoidable death played through my mind like a sick movie until my mind went numb.
The first night, I slept on the shore, hoping the elements would take me.
The second day, I foraged for food to eat. The berries were bittersweet. I made a rudimentary shelter from twigs and leaves.
The third day, loneliness hit. I wished for drink to swallow the burn of hopelessness and guilt down my throat. I swam back to the escape pod to salvage the radio. No signal but it worked. Other than foliage, there appeared to be no other life on this planet.
