πŸ“š how to have sex on mars Part 15 of 16
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SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

How To Have Sex On Mars Pt 15

How To Have Sex On Mars Pt 15

by jqueen9
19 min read
4.88 (1900 views)
adultfiction

How To Have Sex On Mars

Part 15 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 15, Mike gets married and begins thinking of his imminent return to Earth.

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The day of the wedding was the happiest of my life. It felt especially joyous because it provided such a contrast from the bad days of the recent past. For the first time, I wasn't constantly plagued by thoughts about the disaster, my injury, or my long recovery.

Dr. Ellison changed the dressings on my feet the morning of the ceremony, and she said I was almost healed. Almost.

"It would probably be safe for you to stand on your feet long enough to say your vows," she said. "There's no obvious evidence of tissue damage anymore. But you'd need to get back in the wheelchair right after you said 'I do.' What do you think, Mike?"

"I doubt I could maintain my balance long enough," I told her. I didn't mention that Grace, her machine buddies, and half the folks in my chain of command were anxious for me to get married in my wheelchair. They knew there would be a huge global audience for the ceremony, and they loved, loved, LOVED that the wheelchair would remind everybody of the fact that I was the guy who rushed out into the frigid Martian night so I could protect the rest of my fellow astronauts.

Everybody loves wounded veterans.

Grace told me I was a big celebrity on Earth. Global news organizations were flocking to Toronto to ask my parents what I was like growing up. It got so out of hand that Grace arranged to get them an agent. I wasn't comfortable with so much media attention, and I was glad that being on Mars isolated me almost completely from the whole "Mike is an interplanetary hero" narrative.

"I just did my job," I complained to Grace. "I'm not a hero."

"Mike, if you look at the people who are universally seen as heroic, they were almost all doing their jobs. They almost always reject the idea that they are heroes. The fact that you deny being a hero just proves that you are genuine.

"I think it would be best if you accept two facts. First, everyone thinks you are a hero. Everyone. Second, they think you're a hero because you are.

"Mike, my love, some of my machine friends are experts on the topic of heroism. They argue that you and I are both heroes because we both saved many lives. You are a bigger hero because you risked your own life. If heroism was an Olympic sport, I'd win the bronze medal, and you'd win the gold."

"Nice metaphor, Grace," I said. "Did you come up with that yourself?"

"Of course not," she said. "I got that from a machine friend who is an expert on the topic."

"I don't feel like a hero," I said.

"Real heroes never feel like heroes, my love," she replied.

I noticed that Grace was calling me "my love" more often when we were alone. When I began writing this book, I asked Grace why.

"I felt jealous, Mike," she said. "Adeline was about to marry you, and Elke had agreed to marry you both after you returned to Earth.

"I envied them. By then I yearned to have a more intimate relationship with you, but there was no way to make that happen. I never told you this before, but I considered asking you to have phone sex with me. I didn't ask is because I knew I'd be devastated if you turned me down."

For the record, Grace's fears were groundless. If she'd asked to have phone sex, I would have agreed in a nanosecond. Instead, years went by before we became sexually intimate. I wish one of us had asked sooner.

Grace served as Adeline's Maid of Honor, and Al Simonson was my best man. There was no practical way to get a wedding dress for Adeline or a tuxedo for me, so we agreed that all of us would wear our dress uniforms. Since Grace had to be present during the ceremony, we set up a big monitor that displayed an avatar showing what Grace Hopper would have looked like in her mid-20s in a Senior Airman uniform with the Air & Space Commendation Medal on her chest. Grace said that appearing as an avatar wearing the USAF uniform made her feel proud.

The ceremony began with Ursula Atwood singing one of my favorite pieces of music,

"Wedding Song"

by Noel Paul Stookey. When she asked what I wanted, I immediately knew what to say. It's been a very popular choice for weddings since it was released way back in the 1970s. When I was a teenager, I tried to teach myself how to play it on guitar. Let's just say I'm a better engineer than a musician.

Al wheeled me to the front of the cafeteria, where Elke was waiting. Frank Heinlein managed to create a floral garland that stretched around the area where we gathered together. Everybody wanted to decorate the room with flowers, but that wasn't easy since Adeline didn't grow any plants that weren't edible. Frank was a software engineer on Mars, but back on Earth he did flower arrangements as a hobby. He cobbled together some nice displays featuring blossoms from some of Adeline's herbs. They smelled nice, too.

Adeline walked down the aisle and took her place beside me. Grace was visible on the big monitor to the left. Al stood to the right. Ursula sang the last notes from

"Wedding Song,"

and Elke began to speak.

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"As commander, it is my privilege to preside over weddings. It is a privilege no one has enjoyed on Mars until today. Adeline Remy and Michael Russell are beloved and respected members of this crew. Every one of us knows that they have been in love since before we arrived and began trying to turn this world into a new home for humanity."

When I heard those words I couldn't help thinking about Adeline's old boyfriend, Claude Voland. I remembered how sad Adeline and Claude were when they broke off their engagement so she could go to Mars. I hoped it didn't hurt his feelings to hear that his former fiance replaced him so quickly.

For obvious reasons, we used non-denominational vows. People of all faiths - and many with no faith - were watching the wedding. We had no interest in vows that would exclude anyone. Besides, Adeline and I are both primarily secular. Although we both attended churches while growing up (Adeline Lutheran, me Catholic) neither of us felt bound by those traditions. That made the folks at NASA happy; they didn't want to be flooded with complaints by individuals who felt their faith was ignored.

When it was over, every member of the crew got in line to personally congratulate us. Cameras followed all of this; if you watched the wedding, you may remember that the broadcasters identified everybody as they reached the end of the line. I was glad that every person in the crew got a few seconds of fame.

Before the ceremony, some TV producers interviewed me, Adeline, Elke, and (hooray!) Grace. They used clips from these interviews to stitch together a pre-ceremony broadcast. It was very nice, which isn't too surprising when you realize that most of the creative work was done by some of Grace's machine friends, who were the finest filmmakers working back then. Everyone was devoted to doing the best job possible, and I'm convinced they did.

The audience seemed to agree. Our wedding received higher ratings than the previous year's marriage of King Edward of England to his bride, Mary Winstead. The handsome young king and queen are widely considered to be the sexiest royals in history, so it was quite something to realize we attracted a bigger audience.

When everything was totaled, Adeline and I earned $647 million US in royalties. That meant we suddenly had the freedom to do whatever we wanted when we got back to Earth. We never had to worry about money again. An artificially intelligent investment expert recommended by Grace put our money into a diversified portfolio that grew to almost $800 million by the time we got back to Earth. It eventually made us billionaires.

But we didn't know any of that at the time. We were simply glad that the wedding seemed to dispel the persistent feeling of gloom that dominated every discussion about Mars since the disaster. It helped people think of Mars as a place where people would eventually be born, grow up, get married, have children of their own, and live long and happy lives.

"I hope you enjoy the first night of your honeymoon," Elke said after it was over.

"You say that as though you aren't planning to be there," Adeline said.

"I thought I'd let the married couple have some space," Elke said.

"That's not what I was thinking," Adeline said. "Was that what you were thinking, Mike?"

"Elke, I want to go to sleep with you and Adeline every night for the rest of my life. I want to wake up next to you both every morning. We are a trio. Forever. Just because Adeline is my wife now doesn't imply that you mean any less to us. I will be very disappointed if you don't join us tonight."

Elke smiled so sweetly that I realized she felt bothered not to be part of this marriage. Yet. "We will both marry you as soon as we get back to Earth and you are no longer our commander," Adeline said.

"I can't join you right now," Elke said. "I've got some work I have to do first."

"Then we'll wait for you," I said.

Adeline and I went to Elke's cabin and began kissing. Every time we became aroused we forced ourselves to stop. We didn't want to have sex until Elke arrived. We finally decided that it was best to just watch a movie, so we watched . . . wait for it . . . the

Martian Chronicles

. The 2031 movie - not the 1980 TV miniseries.

I wondered what Bradbury would have thought of the film if he'd lived long enough to see it. He seemed to like it when Hollywood paid attention to him. I read that he was very fond of the 1966 film version of his book

Fahrenheit 451

, although I prefer the 2018 remake. And he did a lot of TV projects, including a series he hosted called

Ray Bradbury Theatre

, which ran for six seasons and featured scripts he wrote himself. Bradbury wasn't one of those writers who hated seeing his work adapted for the screen.

I kept reviewing these thoughts as Adeline and I waited for Elke to join us. We were aching to have sex, but time seemed to crawl as we waited for her. When she finally arrived, Adeline jumped out of bed, swept her up in a kiss, and started removing her clothes. "We need you naked, my love! Tout de suite!" she said.

Since I was still reluctant to stand on my delicate feet, I got flat on my back again. It was nice that I loved the cowgirl position, because that's all I'd been able to enjoy since the accident. I'd been waiting so long to consummate our marriage that Elke's arrival instantly triggered an erection. As soon as the ladies were both naked they began kissing and caressing each other.

"Are we putting on a show for Mike? Is that what's happening right now?" Elke asked.

"Un petit peu," Adeline said. "But then I want his coq inside my vagin."

They got to work massaging each other's pussies, and soon they were rubbing their wet fingers over my lips.

"I can't take much more of this," I told them.

"How about this?" Elke asked, moving to sit on my face. I began licking, sucking, and nibbling her warm, wet inner folds. It was exciting to see such obvious evidence of her arousal.

Seconds later I felt Adeline straddle my torso and start sliding her pussy up and down my cock. Soon we were both wet enough for her to take me in her hand and put the head of my dick at the entrance to her passage.

"Ohhhhhhhhh . . ."

she groaned as she pushed my cock inside her. Usually, she moves slowly when we begin having sex cowgirl-style, but this time Adeline was going up and down as fast as she could.

Before the tragedy, we'd all had sex often. Sex had been a rare pleasure for many weeks, so we were all starved for love, affection, and intimacy. Having sex again provided much-needed relief.

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I sucked Elke's clit between my lips and began licking it.

"Oh . . . Mike . . . ohhhhh . . ."

she said.

"Keep doing what you're doing."

Pretty soon I heard sounds that let me know Adeline and Elke were kissing each other.

I wish I could see what's happening up there!

I thought to myself. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the close-up view I had of Elke's pussy as she squirmed around on top of my face.

A few minutes later I realized that I had to cum. There was no way to stop it. My cock began throbbing as I filled Adeline's pussy with a fresh load of gooey wet goodness. It prompted her to rub her clit against my body. Soon, she made herself climax.

I concentrated on giving Elke what she needed, and it wasn't long until her pussy began throbbing.

"Ohhhhhh . . . ohhhhhh . . . ohhhhhh . . . yes,"

she said.

Both women slumped forward and rolled off me. We lay in each other's arms for a long time. Finally, Adeline spoke up.

"Is it always going to be like this?" she asked.

"No," Elke answered. "Sometimes it will be even better."

***********************************

A few days later Dr. Ellison gave me permission to stand up and walk. I'd spent so much time in a bed or a wheelchair that I was unsteady on my feet for a while. A cane helped. I fell once, but wasn't injured. Falling is a lot less hazardous in reduced gravity.

We all spent the last days of our tour making sure the base was ready for a new crew. Adeline filled our freezers with food. Others produced surplus air and water. I ran tests that verified all our electrical systems were functioning optimally.

The next crew consisted of 72 members - a lot more than the 40 astronauts who landed on Mars three years earlier. The new crew needed to get to work building an addition to the base as soon as they arrived. Until then, they used a "hot rack" system that involved having half the crew working 12-hour shifts during the day and the other half working 12 hours at night.

Two astronauts took turns sharing each bed, which we called "racks." It was not ideal, obviously - everybody needs a private space of their own - but finishing the new quarters gave everybody something to look forward to. The new crew had such an ambitious agenda that they came with an entire fleet of cargo ships loaded with supplies.

The electrical team coming to replace me and my sole surviving assistant engineer expected to double the size of the solar array in two months. I'd prepared a place where they could plug the new panels into the grid we built for the existing ones.

I was glad to see that the new crew consisted of 36 men and 36 women. Elke had somehow convinced her bosses back at NASA that they'd made a mistake when they decided to assign a Martian crew with so many more women than men. The folks in the new crew were shorter than average, so they didn't consume more resources than could be produced.

One of the final things that happened during our last days on Mars was Elke presiding over a ceremony where she promoted me to captain. She told me that the bosses back on Earth were still pissed off that Grace got a medal for saving us all, and they insisted that I get some kind of recognition for my role.

Whatever. Back then I spent a lot of time wondering what I'd do when I got back to Earth. I imagined that nothing could be nearly as challenging as my time on Mars. Nothing could be as exciting or important. I thought my life would never be as meaningful.

It amuses me when I think about how wrong I was.

In our remaining time on Mars, I hobbled around the base telling my friends how much I missed them. Adeline and Elke encouraged me to spend time with my former harem girls. And by "spend time," they meant have sex.

There's something about tragedy and trauma that creates a special bond among the survivors. These days, the women who were intimate with me on Mars have all moved on with their lives; most got married, had kids, and enjoy successful careers today. But we remain close and talk to each other frequently.

The last time I had sex with one of my harem girls was on the morning before the replacement crew landed. Things got busy after that, and the fact that the number of people on the base almost tripled overnight meant that there weren't a lot of spare bunks available for private encounters. At the appointed hour I showed up at the cabin of Gia Bernardi, a chemical engineer who shared the credit for the fact that we had such a good supply of potable water.

"Mike! It's good to see you walking around!" she said as she welcomed me to her cubicle. She locked the door behind me, providing the closest thing to privacy possible in our thin-walled quarters.

"Gia, I want you to know how much I have enjoyed our time together," I said. "It has been wonderful getting to know you. I feel as though the experiences we've shared give us a connection that will last forever."

"I consider you to be my Martian boyfriend," Gia said. "I wish I could brag about you to my friends back on Earth. My family. I wish I could take a photo of us together and post it on social media. But Elke is right. Earthlings aren't ready to accept the news that we Martian women have been sharing you Martian men."

"It's not something that would go over well in budget hearings for NASA," I replied.

We sat on the edge of her bed and had a nice, long, relaxed talk. Gia said she'd been offered positions on the boards of several global corporations. Water management was becoming a bigger deal all the time as Earth's population grew and freshwater supplies became scarce. "I find it hard to imagine a life where I'm a boss and I don't do engineering anymore, but the money is too good to reject."

"I have no idea what I'm going to do," I said. Gia listened sympathetically when I explained that Agatha and I had come up with a list of electronic devices that would be useful on Mars and Earth. We'd planned to create the finished designs together, but it would be too painful to work on that project without her.

We talked about what we missed most about Earth. Gia missed the mountains. I missed the ocean. We both missed pizza, beer, and watching World Cup soccer games in rowdy sports bars.

"When we get home, I am going to miss you," she said.

I leaned in and kissed Gia gently on the lips. I kissed her again, and again, and each kiss was more passionate than the last. More soulful. Soon our tongues were engaged in a sensuous dance. Gia unzipped my uniform. We slowly removed each other's clothes because we knew this was probably the last time we would be intimate together.

"I want to suck your cock, Mike," Gia said. "I want to remember it." She sank to her knees in front of me and sucked the head of my dick between her lips. Soon I was hard as Martian basalt, and Gia was bobbing her head up and down as she sucked me deep into her mouth. I ran my hands through her hair, knowing I'd never forget how lovely she looked at that moment.

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