At 26, Sharon was already a legend. She had received her doctorate in mechanical engineering, and gone to work for the navy, doing advanced design for the next generation of nuclear submarines. She was the star of her university basketball team. She had everything a girl could want.
Except legs. She will never know if the thalidomide her mother took while she was pregnant with Sharon helped to make her a genius as well as a cripple, but Sharon was born without legs. Sharon's slim waist flaired out beautifully over her normal pelvic bone, then her body just seemed to stop. The firm cheeks of her perfect ass curved around to join her belly where her thighs should have begun. Sharon felt like a freak.
Sharon was one of the best wheelchair-basketball players around, and she had even led the national team to a gold medal at the para-olympics. The effort of rolling her own wheelchair had given her the strength to beat men thee times her size at arm-wrestling. The navy went to incredible lengths to have her visit its submarines to help integrate equipment with deepwater stress requirements. Sharon still felt like a freak.
Sharon knew the other women talked behind her back, and that the gossip was that she was the only virgin in a hundred miles. She wanted out of the rat-race where the macho studs of the navy never quite looked her in the eye, so she applied for every new posting she could find. And finally her miracle happened. The letter said, "Dear Ms. Samson, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a pressure-engineering specialist in the NASA Space Station project. We anticipate your deployment early in the year 2002. Please contact the Houston Astronaut Training Center as soon as possible."
A year and a half later, Sharon lies in her assigned seat in the shuttle as it roars into space. The NASA space-suit designers have been delighted with her, as she saved them the problems of making legs with knee joints and feet. She wears the lightest, yet strongest, space suit in history. This shuttle mission will swell the space-station crew to fourteen, eleven men and three women.
The shuttle's arrival at the station is the signal for many hours of hard work, getting everything off-loaded from the shuttle and carefully tied to the station. Almost instantly it becomes obvious that Sharon can do the work of two men. Her suit has the same propulsion system as the others' but without the weight of legs, it is like putting a truck motor into a sports car.
As the shuttle drops away for its return to Earth, Sharon joins the others for dinner in the central pod of the station. For the first time in her life, Sharon feels at home. In fact, she feels like super-woman. The massive arm-muscles gained in all that wheelchair basketball let her glide effortlessly around the weightless environment of the station, where others had to move more slowly and carefully.
"OK, lets break it up and get some sleep!" the mission commander calls, "Karen and Sasha, show Sharon to her bunk." Sharon dutifully follows the two other women through a narrow hatch, and finds herself in a narrow tube that for some reason has a ladder along one side. She notices that the other two use the ladder to pull themselves along, but in the absence of gravity, Sharon simply propels herself down the tube with a quick flick of her wrist. She emerges into a giant room, which smells of some horrible chemical.
"Don't worry about the smell." Karen tells her, "It's just the last trace of rocket fuel. Welcome to our humble home, which just happens to be the spent fuel tank of a Russian Zarya rocket."
Sharon looks around. She is inside a giant tin can, which has numerous hooks along all of the walls. Many of those hooks have nylon net bags attached, in which all manner of gear is kept from floating around the room. She is familiar with all the equipment, and she recalls the story of how this fuel tank had, with incredible luck, come near enough to the station to be captured and made part of the station. Nobody had known what to do with it, except Sasha, who had demanded that her country's fuel tank become the women's quarters of the station. Sharon notices how the space is lit with a string of Christmas-tree lights that wind in a spiral around the room, and approves of the common-sense approach to lighting the space. Now the three women have a far larger sleeping space than the men, although without many amenities. One of Sharon's jobs is going to be the installation of a space-toilet in this empty cavern.
Karen starts to peel off the leotard that the female astronauts wear under their space suits. She is a tall lanky Irish girl, who grew up in Texas. The freckles on her pale skin are fading, since she has gone into space. Her huge mane of coppery-red hair floats serenely around her head like a fiery halo. As she finishes stripping, the patch of bright red hair in her crotch attests that she is a natural red-head. "You can hook an arm into any of the nets," Karen tells Sharon, "Or you can just float free while you sleep. Your choice."
Sasha too finishes removing her clothing, and her shapely figure hangs in mid-air. Sasha's large breasts have no sag in the weightless room, and her nipples are flushed and swollen. In English that is heavy with a Russian accent she tells Sharon, "You take off clothes too. Be comfortable, and sleep good. We take good care of you."
The two gorgeous female astronauts drift toward Sharon, and begin to gently remove her leotard. They peeled it down off her shoulders, and help her to remove her arms. As Sasha pulls the garment away from her torso, Karen quickly unsnaps her sports bra. "You won't be needing the support here." she says as the bra floats away on the mild air current. The older astronauts release Sharon, and for the first time in her life the young engineer feels... nothing.
No gravity makes her touch the Earth. No clothing touches her anywhere. Total freedom. Sharon closes her eyes and revels in the feeling of just floating in space. She feels no vertigo, just a sensation that she has finally arrived in her natural element. The feeling is almost erotic as she drifts. Soft susurrations of sound reminded her that two other women share the cabin with her, but she doesn't care.
Suddenly Sharon feels four hands grip her waist. Her eyes fly open and there, hanging in space is a wide-open creamy twat with a patch of red curls just below the clit. It is below, because the pussy's owner has her own head inches from Sharon's cunt.
Sharon feels Sasha's tongue begin to trace lazy circles on her ass, moving in slowly toward her anus. Then Karen's lips close on her clit, sucking it gently and sensuously between her teeth. With no legs in the way, Karen and Sasha have an unobstructed feast, and eagerly gobble away at Sharon's ass and cunt.
Sharon writhes in pleasure as the two more experienced astronauts plunge their tongues deep into her nether parts, giving her a tongue-fucking that she never even dreamed of receiving on earth. She wants to reach out to the pussy that drifts before her in space, but the electricity jolting her from her clit will not allow her that much co-ordination. She is a helpless well of pleasure, and minutes later she cums, emitting soft globs of fuck-juice to float around the cabin.
Sharon howls in her ecstasy as the other two women continue to lick and suck at her utterly exposed rectum, clit and cunt. Trapped between them, with no walls or floor to gain purchase, the only things to grip are Karen's long pale legs, so Sharon pulls them toward her and mashes that tangle of soft red curls against her lips.
Up 'til now a virgin, except with her bullet-shaped vibrator that she didn't dare bring with her on the NASA flight, Sharon does know how to find a clitoris, and soon has the lanky Irish Texan howling with delight. With her powerful left arm wrapped around the girl's slim pale waist, Sharon plunges two fingers into her sopping vagina.
When two women are in a 69 position in free-fall, neither one is on top. But with three women bound in a mutual passionate embrace, Sharon is definitely in the middle. Sasha withdraws a finger from Sharon's cunt, dripping with her natural lubrication, and slides it into her anus. Combined with Karen's continuing skilful attention to her cunt and clit, Sharon's orgasm is so powerful that she loses her grip on Karen's silky thighs.
Sharon floats, lost in space, with the two more experienced astronauts fingering her and licking her and sucking her, with the only points of contact being her firmly gripped hips, and her powerfully cumming sex. They begin to spin her round and round, as if Sasha's tongue on her perineum is the south pole around which she must rotate while Karen licks alternately at her rectum and clitty. The sensations are overwhelming, and finally she cries out in a voice that echoes and re-echoes around the cabin, "No more! Please, No More!" But as the other two women continue to torment her with incessant pleasure, a strange thought comes to her; that the producers of the movie 'Alien' were right. In space, no-one can hear you scream...