Two things I never dreamed I would ever do in my lifetime: spending time on the International Space Station...and sucking cocks in space. But that's what I now do every day and will for at least the next six months, maybe more.
After several decades of photography for various magazines, I found myself getting bored, and besides, magazines are rapidly becoming ancient history. I was ready for a change of scenery. Boy did I get it! When a friend and fellow freelancer mentioned that NASA was looking for photographers, I didn't waste a minute. Photography has sent me all over the world over the years, but when NASA wondered if I might be interested in taking shots from 254 miles above the world's surface, I had to take a second to catch my breath. Then, of course, I said yes. Hell yes!
That was the good part. Not so good were the months in training - boring as hell - and the realization that I'd be leaving a rotating cast of fuck buddies I'd made over the years, an almost fail-safe system that got me laid from Burbank to Burkina Faso (God he's hung!). But on my first day at the Station, the views, from inside and out were mind-blowing. For the first few weeks, that's the only kind of blowing I was thinking about. But then...
Then I learned something that should have been obvious from the start; there's nowhere to go up here, lots of downtime and, well, humans are humans, right? Asking anybody to spend months in tightly confined quarters without thinking about sex is something that's obviously not going to happen. That's how I ended up with a cock in my mouth on day 47. Vladimir and I (I've changed names) were alone together in Node Three, looking at a spectacular view of Southeast Asia when I noticed he was staring not out the window, but into his phone (yes, there are cellphones on the ISS) and a quick glance revealed that he was looking at porn, not just any porn, but serious M2M deepthroating. We both blushed for a second, but then, as if on cue, we locked the portal to Node Three and disabled the cameras. That's considered OK, because even in space, people need private moments.
Thirty seconds later, I was working Vlad's hard shaft like a starved maniac...which I basically was. It was out of this world, literally. After that first encounter, I sucked him off pretty much daily, sometimes two or three times in a day. As I mentioned, there's a lot of downtime.
I also mentioned privacy, but needless to say, it's next to impossible to keep secrets between nine people in a cramped space jalopy. So, when the others started looking at me funny, grinning for no reason, or rolling their eyes, it was obvious Vlad and I had been outed. I expected to be ostracized, but to my surprise, the two of us are hardly the first members of the 254-Mile-High Club, and I quickly learned that the unofficial motto of the Space Station is "What happens in the ISS, stays in the ISS. Did I mention how horny people get while up here?
That's how I ended up servicing almost all of the guys on a regular basis. The two women on board, Lisa and Naomi, are happy to have me aboard, because my "specialty" takes a bit of the heat off of them (although the rest of the guys are switch-hitters who will probably go back to vanilla hetero bumping once back on earth). All good with me, I'm still getting a delicious array of man meat to explore every day. Gourmet dining from around the world.
A couple of interesting things about space sex: it's a slam dunk that I'm going to get every drop of cum the other guys donate because various gooey substances floating around in a weightless environment are not considered appealing (use your imagination). Item two: It's hard to get fucked up here. That's half because most of the other guys draw the line there, and half because getting pounded while floating poses certain mechanical problems. To every action, there is an equal but opposite reaction. Remember that from school? Well here's what they didn't tell you in school: when another guy tries to bury his cock deep inside you, your body un-docks (that's space talk). Yes, you can strap yourself to the wall and let your buddy boof you with his arms wrapped around your shoulders and neck, but it's just not quite the same as getting plowed in a hotel in Amsterdam. First Mate Dirk and I have talked about that; he agrees.
Here's one last bit of space trivia and then I'll let you go (Angus is knocking on the portal). You may know that human muscles atrophy after many months in space. It makes sense; no gravity, no need for muscles to help you walk. NASA (and everybody else's space programs) have physical therapy sessions upon return to earth, but one thing I can be proud of: the other guys will all return with hip muscles stronger than ever before (except for Lars, Bible-thumping jerk that he is). As for me, I've somehow managed to find time to take occasional photos. Some of them will probably appear in National Geographic. Most of the other stuff...ah...probably not.