πŸ“š how to have sex on mars Part 9 of 16
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SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

How To Have Sex On Mars Pt 09

How To Have Sex On Mars Pt 09

by jqueen9
19 min read
4.78 (2200 views)
adultfiction

How To Have Sex On Mars

Part 9 of 16

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Mars. For millennia, the Red Planet has fired humanity's imagination.

Scientists like Percival Lowell thought it was an "abode of life" with irrigation canals transporting water from the polar icecaps to farms in the warm equatorial region. Novelists like Edgar Rice Burroughs, Ray Bradbury, and Robert A. Heinlein imagined Martian civilizations.

NASA spacecraft revealed that Mars is a cold desert, but that vast amounts of frozen water can be found just below the dusty surface. Today, members of groups like The Mars Society are making plans to build a permanent colony there.

That work would be done by people like our protagonist, Mike Russell, an astronaut who spends years working and living on Mars. What would it be like to be one of the first people to call Mars home? For Mike, it includes the discovery that sex on Mars is very different from on Earth - and Vive la diffΓ©rence!

Here in Part 9, another lonely astronaut asks Mike for a relationship.

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I've put off writing this chapter. It brings back memories that are equal parts wonderful and horrible.

Let's start with the fact that I was someone who got to make frequent trips outside. Because the solar arrays were outdoors, members of my team often got to put on spacesuits and work outside in the sunshine. It was a nice change. We spent most of our time huddling inside a cramped enclosure; lots of my colleagues were jealous of people like me who got to go outside regularly.

Many of my outdoor shifts happened in the company of an engineer named Agatha Turnbull. We became good friends immediately. Agatha was a person who was relentlessly kind, charitable, and optimistic. She never seemed to get discouraged about anything, and she never had anything negative to say about anyone. I should admit right now that I was attracted to Agatha from the beginning. She was beautiful (and sexy) in a way I'd never experienced before.

Agatha was born in the Virgin Islands. I am told that the name "Turnbull" is familiar there because it is an old, well-known family that controls a great deal of wealth and has extensive business and political connections. Her parents gave Agatha everything a child needs to thrive, and she made good use of her advantages.

She was an outstanding student and athlete; if you look her up online, you'll see that she won a bronze medal in gymnastics in the 2038 games in Panama City. She got her undergraduate degree at Harvard and then became a graduate student at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where she majored in electrical engineering.

For her thesis, Agatha created designs for a compact control system that maximizes the efficiency and safety of solar arrays. She was awarded patents that attracted the attention of venture capitalists who created a start-up company that manufactured and sold equipment based on her designs. It was a big success.

NASA chose Agatha's company to provide the control system for our array. She immediately volunteered to be part of the team that installed and maintained the Martian energy grid, and it would be difficult to find anyone on Earth more qualified for that job.

By now you know that Agatha was a brilliant and accomplished woman. I've told you that she was a kind and generous soul. What I haven't mentioned is that she was one of the most attractive women I've ever seen. The words "exotic beauty" perfectly describe her.

The Virgin Islands are the home of a specific type of people of African descent. Agatha was black, but she didn't look like most of the black people on Mars, who were largely of mixed ethnicity and had skin of many shades of brown. Agatha had the blackest skin I've ever seen. It was smooth, dark, and luminous.

She had unique ethnic features, with large eyes, a wide nose that suited her face perfectly, and a huge smile that was always on display. She had perfect white teeth that contrasted with her black skin every time she smiled. Agatha could have been a model if she hadn't been so busy being an Olympic athlete and an electronics genius who wanted to be a Martian pioneer.

When I first met Agatha, she had long flowing black hair that hung down to her shoulders. It was lovely. She shocked everyone by shaving her head on the day before we blasted off. Agatha explained that it took a lot of expensive and time-consuming beauty treatments to make her hair that straight and perfect, and she knew there were no beauticians on Mars.

She decided to let her hair grow out naturally. She told me she liked the idea of shaving off her long hair as a way of acknowledging that having a new life on Mars required leaving parts of her old life behind. Agatha kept her hair trimmed short, leaving her head with a dense covering that looked like black velvet.

I loved her almost immediately. It started as a completely platonic relationship, but it was easy for me to imagine that any man would be extremely lucky to be her lover. We spent long hours outside in spacesuits, unpacking the components of the solar array and assembling them like IKEA furniture.

"We are going to be very popular people tonight, Mike," Agatha said one afternoon as we were connecting a new section of the array to our grid. "Adding this many new solar panels is going to increase power generation by a lot. A lot. People who haven't been able to get started on some very important work are going to be glad to see so much more power flowing to the batteries."

"Yeah. That assumes all this stuff works properly," I said. "Of course, I can't imagine anything will go wrong. This equipment is almost foolproof. Whoever designed this stuff is clearly a genius."

Just in case you didn't catch the joke, remember that Agatha designed the equipment.

"You say the nicest things," Agatha said.

"Thanks for noticing," I said.

Those shifts spent outdoors were always exhausting. They usually ended with us covered in dust from helmet to boot. Everything you've heard about the dust of Mars is true. It gets everywhere. We worked extremely hard to keep that crap out of the enclosure, but no matter what we did, we had to constantly go around cleaning it up.

The main thing we did was clean our spacesuits as thoroughly as possible before going back inside. The astronauts on the moon used little brooms to try to keep moon dust outside where it belonged. We had a better say.

Since Mars has an atmosphere, we were able to use an air compressor that supplied a hose with a nozzle that delivered blasts of air whenever we wanted it. Hosing ourselves off with compressed air removed almost all of the dust before we climbed into the airlock. Even so, we'd find little traces of dust on our suits after we took them off, and we had to be careful to wipe them off before returning to the main part of the enclosure.

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Still, a lot of that crap got inside, and we had to sweep it up. At this point, I'd like to give some credit to Hoover, an official sponsor of the Mars colony. Their little robotic vacuum cleaners roamed around inside the enclosure at night, doing a lot to make our habitat cleaner.

One afternoon Agatha and I met to discuss some modifications we'd been asked to make to our schedule. Work was going faster than expected on what was called "the second-floor addition." The designers of the Mars base decided that the compound would be more useful and safer if they added a second floor to the building. It was intended to add a layer of extra protection from radiation and micrometeorites.

The coolest part of the idea was that they wanted to put a swimming pool up there. The pool was intended to provide a place to put surplus water that would be available in emergencies, but we would be allowed to swim in it. Having two meters of water above our living quarters dramatically reduced damaging radiation.

The folks building the second-floor addition were ahead of schedule. The walls were up and the space was pressurized with air, but they were hampered by the fact that nobody had hooked up the lighting and power outlets. They were getting tired of working with battery-powered floodlights. Agatha and I were supposed to wire it up eventually, and we were being asked to start working ahead of schedule.

Agatha and I talked about times we could do the job. After we settled everything, she said there was something else she wanted to discuss.

"Mike, I imagine that you already know I have feelings for you," she said. "I think about you all the time."

I'd known, of course. Nobody could keep secrets like that on Mars. I'd noticed that Agatha was treating me differently.

"I have feelings for you, too," I said. "But we both know I'm in a committed relationship with Adeline."

"That's true," she said. "But you're also in a committed relationship with Elke, no? There are already two women in your life who love you, no? And you love them, no?"

There was no reason to lie. "Yes. Of course. My life is complicated," I said.

"Not so complicated. They love you. You love them. But I love you, and you love me, no? Mike, you must know by now that I want more of you. I want you in my bed. I promise to love you in a way that doesn't hurt any other part of your life."

And that was how the conversation began. I suppose that it must have been easy for Agatha to see how fond I was of her. She'd begun sitting very close to me when we worked, and I did everything to encourage her. I'd spent a lot of time thinking about what a wonderful, sexy, loving woman she was. I'd imagined what it would be like making love to her.

You might be wondering how I had the energy to fantasize about one woman while I was having sex with two others. I don't have an answer. As I reflect on those days, I realize that the more sex I got, the more I wanted. There was something about being on Mars at that particular time that made everyone hunger for intimacy.

If you'd known Agatha you would understand my feelings. It was impossible for me to keep our relationship strictly professional. Neither one of us wanted that.

"I'm not sure what to say, Agatha," I told her. "This is happening pretty fast."

"Say yes. Say you'll be with me," she said. "Ask Adeline. If you tell her how we feel about each other, I'm sure she'll approve. In my experience, French people are very flexible about such things."

I sensed that Agatha was right. Adeline would approve - I felt sure of it.

"I'll talk to her. I promise," I said.

Adeline wasn't the slightest bit surprised when I told her Agatha wanted an intimate relationship with me. "You're her boss, right?" Adeline asked. "Will there be any problems if you sleep with a subordinate?"

"I imagine it won't be much different from me having sex with the commander," I said.

"Oui. It's the same," Adeline said.

Adeline gave her blessing to my relationship with Agatha. I'd become accustomed to the idea that it was possible to be intimate with more than one woman at a time, so it didn't take much for me to feel enthusiastic about going to Agatha's quarters for the first time.

She flashed that big, bright smile when she opened the door. Seeing such a clear sign of Agatha's happiness did a lot for my male ego. I felt determined to make her glad that she'd invited me to her cubicle.

We got out of our clothes quickly, and I marveled at Agatha's rich, dark skin. My hand looked very pale as it roamed over her body. Her nipples were almost black. Her smooth, hairless pussy had thick outer lips that made my mouth water. Her breasts were the size of small apples that fit perfectly in my hands.

By now you know that I am particularly excited by a woman's taste and fragrance. All women are different, of course, but Agatha was especially distinctive. I'm not sure how to describe what I experienced when my tongue licked her pussy, but it wasn't like any other woman I'd known. She had a strong taste that was so exciting it made me want to pounce on her body and ravage her.

Agatha's aroma was equally unique. I took deep breaths as I ate her pussy, savoring the feminine fragrance that overpowered my senses. I get the feeling that my words don't come close to explaining how much Agatha aroused me.

One thing that made Agatha different was her submissive qualities. Most of the women on Mars were assertive, accomplished, aggressive women who demanded to be treated like equals. That's what I was used to, and it was my preference as well.

Until I met Agatha. She had ways of letting me know that she expected me to dominate her. I was her boss professionally, and she wanted me to be the boss in her bed. It took time for me to figure that out, but it wasn't long before I was throwing her around in bed roughly, "forcing" her to do what I wanted, and acting as though I didn't need her consent for anything involving sex.

None of that was true, of course. The reality was that I was smitten with Agatha, and I would have done anything she asked. But what she wanted was for me to act like a man who made her feel like a submissive woman. So that's what I gave her.

One thing that made our first night special was that Agatha had been deprived of intimacy for so long that her appetite was ravenous. I made her come three times, with each climax more explosive than the last. I sensed that she was getting tired, so I let myself climax. I laid back in bed and relaxed while Agatha curled up beside me. It wasn't long before she noticed that I still had an erection.

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"You came, didn't you?" she asked.

"Like a cannon," I said.

"So why are you still hard?" she asked.

"I guess this means that no one told you what Martian gravity does to erections," I said. By this time word was slowly circulating around the base about the ways sex on Mars was different. Apparently, Agatha hadn't gotten the memo.

She ran her hand up and down my erect cock. "So you could do it again?" she asked.

"Sure," I said. "And I plan to. Right after we've had a little more rest."

"You need to rest?" she asked.

"Well... yeah," I said.

"I don't need rest," she said. "Let me do the work."

With those words, Agatha climbed on top of me, straddling my body. She grabbed my cock, lined it up with her wet pussy, and lowered herself until I was balls-deep inside her. Agatha flashed that big white smile, went up and down a few times, and sighed.

"Does this feel good, Mike?" she asked.

"It feels great. You feel great."

"I'll do anything you want, Mike. Anything."

Good to know,

I thought to myself. I looked up at Agatha and admired her lean, muscular frame. Her small, perky breasts and dark chocolate nipples made me want to suck, lick and nibble them. The muscles in her abs flexed every time she went up and down. Watching her was better than having my own personal porn star performing just for me.

Agatha climaxed after a surprisingly short time. It was a small little orgasm, but it renewed that marvelous smile on her pretty face. It hadn't been long since I'd climaxed, so I knew I could keep having sex as long as Agatha wanted. She was discovering that riding me cowgirl-style took less energy in the reduced gravity, and I recognized the thrilled expression on her face as she realized that she could have sex longer this way. It reminded me of the time Adeline and I discovered that for ourselves, having sex for hours.

It gradually became clear that Agatha wanted to do the same thing, keeping our passion alive longer than couples can on Earth. I lay on the bed and relaxed, trying to avoid getting too excited. Agatha wanted to have a long, slow, comfortable session of lovemaking, and that meant my job was to remain hard until she was satisfied.

That took longer than I expected. All our personal cabins had a small video display mounted on one wall. The displays displayed a clock when they weren't being used for other functions. This clock was visible over Agatha's shoulder, and I looked at the time when she began riding me.

As she went on, and on, and on, I noticed the time was passing by. Ten minutes. Twenty. Thirty. At some point, it became difficult to refrain from climaxing because my cock was getting so much stimulation. Seeing Agatha laboring above me was equally arousing. I noticed that her skin gradually became shiny as she worked up a sweat. Eventually, I saw beads of moisture form on her chest. In the weak Martian gravity, the beads slowly ran down her breasts and dripped from her nipples. Agatha was breathing deeply by this time. It was like watching the most erotic film ever produced.

She'd been riding me for about 45 minutes when I remembered that Agatha was an elite athlete who'd earned an Olympic medal. In a contest to see who had more endurance, she would win. My cock ached for release by this time, and I realized that it was unlikely that I'd remain erect long enough to satisfy her.

That's what I was thinking when I reached down with one hand and began massaging her clit. She looked pretty excited by this time, and she reacted immediately when she felt my thumb rubbing her there. Maybe she could tell that I couldn't postpone my climax much longer. For whatever reason, Agatha had a long, shuddering orgasm as she rode me. She closed her eyes, looked up at the ceiling, and shook from her head to her toes.

It wasn't as powerful as the orgasms she had earlier, but she looked happy anyway. Agatha leaned forward and her hot, sweaty body came to rest on top of me. It felt sexy in an earthy way, so I was glad to let her stay on top of me for as long as she wanted.

After a few minutes went by, I realized that Agatha was snoring. She'd fallen asleep. On Earth, that would have been uncomfortable. But in the reduced gravity of Mars, Agatha weighed so little that having her sleep on top of me felt good. I reached for our blanket, pulled it up to her neck, then fell asleep myself.

I woke a few hours later when I felt Agatha getting off of me. Opening my eyes, I got another look at her big, bright smile.

"That was different," she said. "Different in a good way."

"Sex on Mars is easier," I said. "A lot more positions are possible. You'll see."

"I look forward to conducting extensive research on that topic," she said.

The next morning Agatha and I were scheduled to work outside installing a wiring harness connecting more batteries to the solar array. It felt good to be next to her, working quietly as we remembered the intimacy we'd shared the previous day. Our shift flew by, and at the end, we walked back to the airlock so we could clean the dust off our suits and remove them.

Under our suits, we wore an item that looked like long underwear. This thermal layer had electrical wires woven through the fabric; they acted as heating elements that kept us warm as we worked in the bone-chilling temperatures outside. We were tired by the time we got our suits off, so we sat next to each other on a bench as we took a break before removing our thermal layer.

Agatha took my hand. "I love you, Mike," she said. "I've loved you for a long time. My mother used to tell me that the very best sex happens when you meet a man you truly love. Yesterday was the first time in my life that I've had sex with a man I love. Now I know my mother was right."

"I love you too, Agatha," I said. "I know this seems to be happening pretty fast, but I think I began falling in love with you the day we met."

Agatha and I began meeting regularly in her cabin, spending endless hours sharing every kind of intimacy. I know this all sounds wonderful, but I regularly thought about the fact that I was deeply in love with three women. I wanted all of them in my life forever, but I knew that such an arrangement was preposterous. At that moment, it seemed inevitable that someday Elke and Agatha would leave.

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