SPACE COLONY CHRONICLES (8)
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 8.0] ***
In the one summer in college I got to spend back home on the space station, Cooperation 1, I got hot for and eventually started fucking Javier, the son of the administrator of the Argentine section aboard the colony. He was way too young for me, still in early high school, but he was so magnetically attractive at least to me and he was a really sweet boy. Despite the "dark" look, Goth eye shadow, painted nails and such, Javier was just a sweetheart. You should have seen him with his younger siblings. He played games with them and made jokes and was as charming as ever. A couple of times that summer his family had me over for dinner. We pretended we became friends by meeting at the record store, as we liked a couple of the same bands. Javier's father was a smart, well-educated and politically powerful man. He spoke English and in fact had studied at Cambridge in England. Part of me feared what would happen if someone found out that I was fooling around sexually with his 15-year-old son. I was 20 that summer. Fortunately no one found out.
At first Javier and I didn't do much because there just wasn't a lot of opportunity. We jacked each other off at the movies that first time, and that happened again a few more times mainly because it was all we could think of. You don't realize how little privacy there is on a space station. Everything's cramped together, doors are hatchways that have to be sealed shut to prevent air leaks, offices and apartments are small, walls are thin, and basically everybody knows your business. Plus, on a space station, you can't really go anywhere. Living in a normal town almost anywhere on Earth you can always find somewhere else to be, a trip to take, an errand to run, or just drive your car around. There were no cars on Cooperation 1. You could not take a vacation in the normal sense. If you deviate from a normal routine people wonder immediately where you are. This is hard for people to understand. It was an almost impossible to find a place to be alone, especially if you were trying to keep a relationship a secret from family members, co-workers, teachers or station administrators.
Toward the end of the summer, though, we finally got a chance to be together for real. There was an international conference of station administrators and their staff, at the Hilton hotel that had just opened up. Javier's parents were invited to stay with a bunch of other Cooperation 1 bigwigs, and, in part to give everybody in the family a breather from one another, his mother made arrangements for the younger kids to stay with the family of Argentina's deputy administrator who also had kids that same age. Javier would be alone in his house for a whole weekend. I couldn't stay overnights, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let the opportunity go by. I dropped by after work and made vague excuses to my family about going to meet friends. This was August and one of the last weekends before I was due to go back to Earth and Stanford, and other young people were getting ready to leave too, so there were parties going on. It was at least plausible.
For the first time Javier and I spent a real evening together. We watched movies on the VCR and he made me dinner, and then we made out on the sofa in the living room. Javier pretty much melted into my arms. He was getting to know a little bit more English and I'd bought a Spanish dictionary, not that it did me a lot of good, but we could at least communicate in a rudimentary sense. Luckily we didn't have to talk much. After we made out for a while we were both stripped down to our underwear, both of us bulging and leaking precum into our briefs. Javier got underneath me and started rubbing his ass up against my groin. Just in case I didn't get it he did it several more times, grinding his beautiful rounded butt cheeks against the hardness throbbing in my underwear. I slid my hand under the waistband of his briefs and felt the warm smooth skin of his ass. He moaned a little. When I started grinding back, he clenched his butt cheeks together, squeezing my dick softly. I asked him point blank: "You want me in you?" He whispered, "Si, si."
Soon we went to his bedroom. He'd been planning for this moment because after he got on his bed, face down, he reached under the edge of it and took out a little bottle of lotion. He put it in my hands. I slid the briefs off his hips and marveled at the sight of his perfect smooth ass, a slightly darker skin tone than mine. I squirted some of the lotion onto his butt cheeks and started rubbing it into his skin, my fingers moving closer to his anus each time. I still had my underwear on but there were dark wet stains all over the crotch from where I was leaking copiously with excitement. When I touched Javier's butthole he sighed. Then I spread it and put the tip of my finger past his sphincter. He gasped a little but smiled. I worked on him for quite a while, deeply massaging and preparing his butt for my onslaught, driving him (and myself) crazy in the process. This beautiful sweet kid was, for all intents and purposes, my boyfriend.
At long last I couldn't take it anymore. I whipped off my jockeys, slathered lotion onto my burning rod, and leaped onto him. Javier gasped, louder this time, as he felt me press into him. The sensation was incredible. He had by far the tightest ass I'd ever fucked. I took him harder than I had anticipated. I wanted to be gentle because it was his first time but I was just consumed by lust. It didn't last long. He gasped sharply and suddenly as I thrust my penis into him and his butt cheeks clenched very tightly around me. I felt bad because it seemed like I'd hurt him, but the feeling of his butthole contracting around my dick was almost too intense for me to handle. I told him I was going to cum. A wave of pleasure washed over me and I shot my load into him so hard I half expected it to spurt out his nose. After I pulled out slowly Javier turned over and reached up to kiss me. His own small penis was slackening and there was semen, not mine, on his lower abdomen and wetting his thin black pubes and the bedspread was covered with wet spots where his groin had been. I realized the gasp and clench where I thought I'd hurt him was because he'd climaxed while I was inside him. I tried to ask him if he'd enjoyed it, meaning his own orgasm, but I wasn't sure I got the message across.
We fucked twice more that weekend. I got inside him again, which was even better than the first time, and then on Sunday afternoon he made it clear that he wanted to try it the other way. I really enjoyed it. His dick was so small that it didn't hurt at all and the idea of having this younger kid inside me was super hot. As that first experience demonstrated, Javier was generally a premature ejaculator so it usually didn't last long when he was on the topside. After he shot his cum inside me we slept together, in his bed, for a couple of hours and waking up with him in my arms and his chin pressed to my chest was heavenly.
As beautiful as the experience was, it was quickly followed by sadness. Lucas, my brother, and I were scheduled to go back to Earth on the mid-August shuttle and I wouldn't be back to Cooperation 1 for two years. I didn't know how to explain this to Javier; he did have some understanding of it but our communication wasn't good enough to discuss abstract feelings. He knew when the shuttle was supposed to depart. A couple of days before we met at the food court during the lunch hour of the last day of my job. He was very taciturn. He gave me a sealed envelope and he said, "No abras. Okay? Don't open. No abras until--" and he motioned upwards to the Earth visible distantly in the window. I promised him.
I was not in love with Javier, and least not when I left. I was very sorry to be leaving him, but sorrier still that I hadn't made any firm arrangement to talk to him again after I returned to Earth. It didn't seem practical. It would be two years before I'd be back. Communication from Cooperation 1 to Earth and vice-versa was not really very secure. You could send sealed letters but they'd take months to get back and forth, depending on the space shuttle schedules; email was in its infancy in 1993 and almost no one used it, so really the only way to talk "ship to shore" was to have the communications center (CAPCOM, we called it) relay messages back and forth. This was why Javier had given me a sealed envelope and told me not to open it. I didn't, until I got back to Stanford.
The letter was written entirely in Spanish. I had to use my dictionary to translate it. It was both beautiful and dangerous. Javier said that he loved me desperately and would wait the whole two years to be back together with me, if that was what I wanted. He said no one in his life had ever made him feel the way I did, and he couldn't imagine anyone else ever would. The letter was actually kind of sad. He apparently suffered from depression, not a surprise, and didn't want to live on the station but felt trapped. That was a common feeling among young people who lived there. He wrote some very sappy stuff about how we were soulmates and every time he looked at Earth through the window he'd be thinking of me. But he also said that he knew I would probably find someone to love back on Earth, and if that happened, at least he hoped I wouldn't totally forget him.
I had very mixed feelings about the letter. Javier was just coming up on his 16th birthday and this was clearly the writing of a young kid who was infatuated. It was also preposterous; there was no way it was going to work out. But on the other hand there was something of an emotional connection between us. It wasn't just that he was physically attractive and that was the end of my feelings toward him. There was something beyond that.
This is where the very strange and unusual dynamics of life aboard the space colony worked in our favor. Under normal circumstances, you could expect a 16-year-old kid growing up and living a normal life on Earth to meet somebody, probably a lot of somebodies, and have a more or less normal dating life; that would certainly be true of someone in college. But things were different on the station, and they were also different for gay people. Take the population of a space colony, not very big to begin with, and narrow it down to the gay people. Then narrow that class down to the people within that group within roughly your same age range or with whom you could expect to share life experiences. Then narrow that down to how many of that group, if there are still any left, you might conceivably find attractive. That's basically your prospect for relationships. Not very many. Being gay on a space colony was close to a 100% guarantee of being single for most of your life. That was the hard truth. But if you did find somebody you had some sort of connection with, because there were so few alternatives, it meant that what would be unthinkable or unrealistic living a normal life on Earth was quite realistic on the station.
The impossibility of communications also gave me time to think. I returned to Stanford just before the fall of my junior year in college. I sent messages to the station all the time, with no expectation of privacy, and I did send them occasionally to Javier; his family and mine knew we were friends, so a "Feliz Cumpleaños" or a "Feliz Navidad" was to be expected. But it was February of the next year, 1994, before I decided that I might actually consider going back to him once I returned to orbit when college was finished. That did not mean I would have to be celibate during the next year and a half, nor did I expect it of Javier. In fact I hoped he managed to get his rocks off up there once in a while. If 1995 came and we still wanted each other, it was at least possible.
I did finally send him a message of a personal nature. It wasn't too explicit, as I couldn't be sure that CAPCOM wouldn't read it. I had by then taken several Spanish classes and my Spanish improved dramatically so we could at least communicate. I told him, what you gave me before I left was wonderful, and every time I looked up at the night sky and saw the light of the station moving against the stars I thought of him. I also gave him a veiled message. I told him that I thought of him while listening to my favorite Van Halen album, "1984," especially track number 7. The title of that song was "I'll Wait." I couldn't be sure he got it, but I hoped he did.
In fact I had two more boyfriends in college. Neither were serious. I won't even mention their names here, they really weren't important. As college wore down I started looking forward to getting back aboard the station, and not just because of Javier, though I still held out considerable hope that we'd hit it off when I got back (and when he was two years older, which would certainly make things easier). What my parents had predicted before we left for the station came true: I thought of it as my home and it always would be. The bright light that crossed the sky on clear nights was almost everything I had ever known: my mom and dad, my brother, Javier, high school memories, everything. Soon I would be back there. Whatever happened with Javier would play out, up there, and that would also become part of my life.
More to come...
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