“Look who wants a little kiss,” Gina said, fondling Bob’s boner through his pants.
“I think he wants more than a kiss,” Bob answered.
James never knew his father could strip on camera. He was pretty hung, but his dad didn’t undress to show off. Instead, he did whatever made Gina happy. Making her happy made him happy. Father and son gave each other the thumbs-up and laughed as their wives showed off their sexy bodies for the cameras.
Undressing for the first time in micro-gravity would have been humiliating if it weren’t so hilarious. When James shifted his weight onto one foot to take off a pants leg, his body would pop into the air until the tiny gravity brought him slowly down. He pulled off a shoe and shot backwards. A Russian kicked off a boot and everyone cringed when it struck the window.
“If you break the window,” Daniela reminded them, “the vacuum will suck us all out into space.”
Which is why Ganymed had more pressure doors than a submarine.
The Japanese guy threw his clothes in the air and everyone liked that so much that they copied him. It looked like it was raining laundry. Bob and Gina embraced, naked, before jumping high through the laundry, twisting and turning while making out like teenagers. James accidentally bounced off the window into the air and watched Jasmine carefully leap after him. She didn’t overcompensate a bit. She even turned in place as she slowly rose, grabbed his legs to maneuver her way to his cock. What little lingerie she wore did nothing to conceal anything important. All that flirting with the cameramen paid off as two of them framed her in their shots.
Oh, she gave such good head. Even when off camera. It’s like a cocaine addiction, except with cock instead of crack. Jasmine just felt so grateful for hitting the jackpot: a wonderful husband, a happy family, financial security, fame, and fortune. She had it all; now she just wanted to enjoy the party while it lasted.
The problem with happiness is it can’t be saved up. You either spend it now, in the present, or not. It can’t be budgeted or scheduled or organized, so Jasmine learned to enjoy it as much as she could, for as long as she could, as compensation for when shit happened. And shit always happens. Rain falls on everyone, goes the saying, but shit hits some people more than others. No longer poor, Jasmine wanted to feast on as many days as possible because you never know when you’ll fall back to earth.
James, no dummy, worked her legs around so he could also get some. His lovely wife opened her legs wide as he stuck his head in. The movements turned them faster, but that only added to the experience as he sucked her succulent peach. She really did taste great. And he loved her scent — not smell, but more of an aroma. The Asians he had been with hardly gave off any odor, while the few black ladies he ate out — God, he hated that phrase — could give smelling salts a run for their money. The one black wife was a gorgeous Halle Berry look-a-like, but with big boobs. She looked like she smelled good everywhere.
In contrast, licking Jasmine’s labia felt more like eating a great fruit salad. Minus the whip cream.
The two cameras dedicated to filming them during sex only made him harder, so James learned something new about himself. Since one of the Europeans went by the name Jim, Facebook, Twitter, and the chat rooms referred to James as the “guy with the hottie.” One unexpected result of having sex on camera is that he put a hell of a lot more energy into it. He didn’t want to make Jasmine cum for her sake, but for posterity. She not only had to cum for him, but cum often. So, hands on her butt cheeks, he worked his magic, thanking God that he paid attention these last several months. Instead of trying to read her mind, James solicited feedback. After hours of wonderful practice, he could now often unlock her safe like a cat burglar.
Jasmine’s groans grew louder and more urgent, so James kept up the pressure, pulling her to the summit. She responded by sucking him harder. 69-ing in space with Earth in the background was wonderful.
“I want to hear you scream,” James communicated to her pussy via telepathy.
“I ain’t cleaning up your cum, damn it!” Daniela yelled. “And if I accidentally fly into any, it’s your ass.”
Jasmine came first — not surprisingly. And theatrically, too. She tasted so good that James couldn’t get enough. However, he did help shake off a few drops for the cameras. His wife may over-act, but he needed everyone watching to know he did, in fact, make her cum. Otherwise they may start calling for a pitch hitter.
Jasmine rewarded his success through sheer willpower. She never used her hands, except to steady herself as they bumped into walls or other people. Bob and Gina pushed off from the ceiling to overshoot them. For some reason, seeing his dad plow his high school lover pushed him over the edge. Maybe the sheer contentment on their faces. Either way, he exploded so hard he lost a few neurons.
To her credit, Jasmine tried to swallow every drop, but several wads got away.
“Don’t you let that hit anyone!” their hot guide chastised Jasmine.
“Mama, help me!” As if she were drowning.
Bob, still fucking Gina, bounced off a wall, flinging them to the rescue. They bumped into Jasmine who flew to the biggest constellation of cum, snapping her jaws like a shark. Gina pushed against Bob as she stretched to gobble one floating in the opposite direction.
“A thousand bucks if you swallow that!” Bob roared at Daniela as she tracked one about to splatter on the window.
“Another thousand if you kiss me afterwards!” Jasmine added.
“Another thousand if you show us your body,” James threw in. Jasmine gave him a wild look.
Three other husbands tripled that offer.
Daniela left her hot boyfriend to get this gig, so she had gone a lot time without getting any, although every redneck on board had hit on her. Used to being the center of the party, she now felt like the only one not having fun. And she took this job more for the fame than the money because ads, reality shows, and endorsement deals made it easy to monetize fame. So taking him up on his offer paid much more than several thousand dollars.
The gorgeous guide leaped into the air, then expertly took off her clothes in mid-air. She hesitated over her bra, before deciding, fuck it. Now wearing only tiny pink panties as her big tits floated free, she tucked her head to flip over like a swimmer reaching the end of the pool and kicked off the window to intercept a wad of cum. Three cameramen had positioned themselves and the luckiest recorded the hottie opening her mouth and engulfing the jism with the blue Earth in the background.
This would soon become the year’s favorite screensaver.
James swung Jasmine around like a merry-go-round before launching her towards the only other girl who rivaled her beauty. This flung James back painfully into a hard rock wall, but it was so worth it. Especially later when he saw them on video. He had sent his wife plummeting towards the window. It looked like she was falling to Earth.
Their naked guide grabbed Jasmine’s hand and they pulled themselves toward each other, finally locking lips. It was like the two finalist for Miss Nude Universe suddenly making out before millions of viewers. Each knew the other would taste like cum, and that knowledge only seemed to rev up their engines as they matched speed and angle.
Reviewing the recording, James loved how they sucked on each other’s tongue, how their hands groped and grasped and gripped. When that clever bitch slipped a finger past the panties into Daniela’s snatch, James thought their host was going to explode. Instead she opened her legs and thrust her tongue down Jasmine’s throat. James watched his wife finger fuck the guide as they bodies rotated before the planet like near-Earth-objects. Their guide finally came, her scream deafening in the enclosed space.