Space Colony Chronicles

By Dolphin Dan

Published on Sep 10, 2020

Gay

SPACE COLONY CHRONICLES (6)

By Dolphin Dan

*** This story takes place against the backdrop of an alternate history where, after the U.S. Apollo Moon landing program ended in 1972, the United States and Soviet Union, and eventually other countries, joined together in a massive concerted effort to build a large Earth-orbiting space station capable of sustaining a significant human population in space. This alternate history explores a trajectory of peace and cooperation that was not taken, instead of a course of antagonism and conflict that, in the real world, was. Peace and cooperation is always better than war and conflict. [/Dolphin rant OFF Execute Program Space Colony Chronicles 6.0] ***

After leaving the space station, Cooperation 1, I spent the four years from 1991 to 1995 getting an engineering degree at Stanford University, for which I wasn't really qualified, but there was a special program for the sons and daughters of space colony personnel. Because this story is mostly about my life on the space station I'm going to skim over a lot of what happened on Earth. There were some sexual adventures, as most people have in college, and I ultimately began to understand what gay identity was even if I was still mostly closeted. Being gay in the early 90s was very different than today, and this was the height of the AIDS epidemic, so it was a little tricky.

Freshman and sophomore year I lived in the dorms on the Stanford campus. I hadn't been back on Earth in five years so for the first few weeks I relished walking on grass and riding in cars and all of those things that we never got to do on the space station, and it was glorious. Being around significant numbers of people my own age was also wonderful and frightening too. I didn't realize how socially awkward I'd grown up to be. Whenever anyone found out I had lived on Cooperation 1 suddenly they wanted to know all about it. "What is it really like living in space?" was the number one question and I got tired of talking about it. Eventually the celebrity kind of wore off and I was like any other college kid.

In the fall of my freshman year I met a guy named Sammy. He was tall and blond and good looking, a little more femmy than I preferred but he seemed to like me and he was attractive enough. He was a math student. We dated kind of furtively for two or three weekends and then fell into bed, in his dorm room, after we both got drunk at an off-campus party. I was pretty smashed and I honestly don't remember a lot of it, but I do remember the feeling of Sammy's cock sliding into me and thinking, "That's the end of my virginity, if there was anything left of it." He used a condom and didn't cum inside me but I was curious what it would feel like if he did. Later, after we'd been dating a little while, we both got HIV tests at the student health clinic, which was quite responsible, and after that we didn't need condoms. Sammy had a friend who had a house in the Los Altos Hills and one weekend when his friends were out of town we got to stay there. We had basically what you call a lost weekend. We fucked every way we could think of. We came in each other's asses, mouths, hands, we fucked in the shower, Sammy blew me in the swimming pool (I didn't know you could do that), we hung around in our underwear all day. It was great. It was mostly physical, though. Sammy had kind of an annoying and demanding personality. I put up with him, though, and even decided for a while that I loved him. Then, early in the spring semester, he cheated on me with some guy he met at another party. I was furious. I dumped him instantly. He wrote a weepy letter asking me to take him back but I wouldn't. As much fun as it was physically, I was glad to be rid of him.

The next guy I was with was Qin. He was an exchange student from China but he spoke English very well. I'd never really fancied Asian guys before, but something about him was incredibly magnetic. I first saw him at a party and then later on campus, and when the semester changed we wound up in a class together. He had longish hair, a little longer than collar length, and usually wore colorful Hawaiian shirts. I remember we were eating at the campus dining hall one day and his shirt was unbuttoned one button lower than usual, and when Qin turned a certain way I could catch a glimpse of his nipple. I know, big whoop, but it was exciting to me. I had no idea he was gay until he came on to me one afternoon. I don't remember his exact words, but we were just sort of making jokes and he said something to the effect of, "Yeah, maybe if you suck my dick." I shrugged and said, "I'm game." That put the idea in his head but he didn't follow it up. About two days later we were walking somewhere on campus and Qin said, "Did you mean that the other day? When you said you'd suck my dick?" I said, anywhere, anytime. He asked me if I'd come to his apartment that evening. I blew him in his living room, while he was sitting on his couch (which was also a sofa) drinking a beer. His dick was smaller than mine but very straight and very beautiful. I sucked it eagerly and teased his balls with my tongue. He made soft little gasping noises before his dick quivered between my lips and started blasting cum all over the inside of my mouth. We both drank several beers that night and eventually had full-on anal sex, both him doing me and vice-versa. I stayed the whole weekend at Qin's apartment. I remember I had to go back to my own place briefly on Saturday afternoon to pick up books and assignments so I could bring them back to his house and do them there. I even stayed Sunday night and went to class right from his place, wearing the same clothes I'd been wearing Friday evening.

Qin and I dated for about four months. Actually there wasn't much dating involved. We didn't really go out socially. It was really just sex. I got fixated on him in kind of a weird way. Qin was three years older than me and had seen way more of the world. Not only did I love fucking him, but I started to idolize him. There wasn't a sexual suggestion he gave me that I would refuse. He didn't push it too far, to be honest, but sometimes when we were alone he ordered me to suck his dick, and once we were in a friend's car that he borrowed (he didn't have one of his own) and he demanded that I suck him when we were on the highway. I totally did without question. Toward the end it actually got kind of one-sided. Qin would tell me to come over to his place, I would, we'd sort of play with each other for a while, just with our hands, not really jacking each other off but more caressing each other's dicks and balls. I still remember the feeling of Qin's heavy nut sack in my hands. Then he would take me to the bedroom, lay me face-down on his bed, and plow me. Usually after he came we'd get take out or he would cook, and then when dinner was over I'd go home. I would jack off two or three times over the next eight hours or so to come down from the experience but after the first month or so that we were together it was pretty rare that he made me cum in his presence.

After a while Qin just stopped calling me. I guess he was bored of me, but never said as much. I was too hurt to call him and also afraid of provoking an awkward conversation that would hurt my self-esteem. So, I basically let him go. Maybe I was tired of it too, though part of me remained fixated on him. Over the next few months whenever I jacked off I thought about Qin almost automatically. Part of me still very much wanted him, or maybe the idea of him.

During the summer between my freshman and sophomore year I ended up living with my dorm roommate, Neil, and his family in Bakersfield. Neil and I were generally pretty good friends although we got on each other's nerves sometimes, but there weren't really a lot of choices of places for me to stay over the summer because "home" was orbiting overhead and cost millions of taxpayers' dollars to get to. I wasn't attracted to Neil in the slightest. He was tall and bony and not very coordinated. That summer I worked at an office supply store and he worked at a library. His family was very nice, but the real attraction was Neil's younger brother Clint. He was sixteen, too young for me to feel good about trying to do anything with him, but incredibly hot. His tanned body was lean but with the hints of muscles bulging in the right places, like the rounds of his shoulders and his abdomen, and he went around with his shirt off a lot because it was a very hot summer. Clint had golden hair, longish and curly, usually spilling out from under a mesh trucker's cap. There was one wonderful evening when he and I watched a movie together in the family room and kind of shot the breeze but nothing really more happened. Still, I hungered for glimpses of Clint and I tried to contrive situations where I might see him coming out of the shower or in other situations that would give me a show. Unfortunately I wasn't successful but gradually Clint started to replace Qin in many of my masturbation fantasies. It was kind of pathetic, me being in college and having a crush on a high schooler, but I couldn't help it.

One night after a party in the late summer I'd had a little too much to drink, and as the party was breaking up I found my way to Clint's room. He was still downstairs, also drunk, and attention was focused on an even drunker friend of Neil's who had gotten sick and had to be escorted to the car of someone who could give him a ride home, so there was only a window of a few minutes where I wouldn't be noticed. I felt guilty but I prowled through the closet of Clint's room and found a hamper with dirty clothes in it. Sure enough some of his underwear was in there, blue Jockey boxer briefs. I put them to my face and inhaled and for the first and only time experienced Clint's musky, sweaty scent. My dick was throbbing in my pants, my balls ached and there was a wet spot in my underwear. I unzipped my shorts and stuffed Clint's dirty underwear down the front of my own briefs. Caressing myself with them I got incredibly excited, bent over double and shot a huge load all over his boxer briefs. For being a solo and a quickie it was pretty satisfying but I also felt ashamed, and scared of being caught. I pulled his shorts out of my pants and buried them deep in the hamper. Hopefully he'd just dump the load into the washing machine and never notice there were cum stains on his underwear that weren't his own. Then again as a horny 16-year-old boy he might not even remember all the places he'd cum so even if he found the stains he might assume they were his own. That thought actually turned me on. But, I quickly left his room and wasn't missed at the party. Ejaculating into Clint's underwear was as close as I got to him. Probably for the best.

The way the deal for our college worked regarding the space station was that it was always intended that those of us from Cooperation 1 who went to college on Earth would get one trip home during our college years, most likely in the summer between sophomore and junior year. The education office booked me on the space shuttle Lexington which was due to blast off from Florida in May 1993. It was actually before the semester ended, but I had to get on that shuttle because the next one wasn't until August, so I arranged to take finals early, finish up the semester and move out of my dorm in time to catch a plane to Orlando. It was nearly two years since I'd been home. In my life I've taken a total of four trips from Earth up to the station, and this one was by far the worst. The spacecraft was struck by lightning just before we cleared the launch tower and there were some harrowing moments while the pilots decided whether to abort the launch and activate the escape system. Eventually the ride evened out but I pissed my pants. (In my defense, there were a bunch of other passengers and mission specialists in the passenger pod with me, and a couple of them did too. A lady literally shit herself. These things happen in space flight). At that point I vowed I would make this trip as little as possible. It was just too harrowing to go back and forth. The astronauts who made these trips for a living, I had no idea how they did it.

My summer at home back on the station was an interesting one, and mainly for one reason: Javier. I'll get to that in the next chapter.

More to come...

My book, "An American Elf in Paris," is out now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BNVGZYQ

Please donate to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Next: Chapter 7


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