Have you ever thought of the man on the moon as sexy? Well, he is. Sexy as hell. He lives in this specially designed dome, deep in one of the moon’s famous craters. The heat shields and giant fans and other technology that I don’t understand -- and don’t care to -- keep him from frying under the sun’s rays.
He explained all of this to me as he bought me another drink. So I listened, since I never turn down free drinks. We were at the Mars Bar on the red planet. Space shuttles and orbiters cluttered the vast parking lot, which was really one giant launch pad. The rockets’ hatches connected to an underground moving walkway, something like the one at the Atlanta airport on Earth. The scientists had long suspected that water resided on Mars, and once they found it, the planet became a fave watering hole for the droves of transients that traveled our solar system.
“I could take you there,” said the moon man, selling me on his words with a sweep of coal lashes over his silver eyes. I swigged my drink. Maybe he could. What do I know? I’m just a fuel assistant stranded on this red rock until something better comes along. Could this be the something better?
“To the moon?”
“Literally, or is that just your pick-up line?”
“Literally. My biosphere is quite lush. All the amenities.” He leaned closer, nearly slipping from his barstool, crowding me with his six-foot frame. Not that I minded the crowding. He was a perfect specimen, and I wouldn’t mind exploring his tight pecs and abs.
I was fairly short by Earth standards, only five-foot four, but I had nice proportions, or so I’d been told while naked and sweaty in some man’s room. “I’m sure it is,” I said, trying to imagine the view from the moon. “But I’m gunning for the ultimate biosphere -- Earth.”
“The moon would get you closer.”
“But not close enough. Nowhere to work, and no ships to hitch onto.”
He leaned back and rubbed his chin. “There’s mine.”
“Will you take me to Earth?” My drink, a Uranus mai tai, was beginning to take effect, softening the stark strobe lights from the dance floor, as well as making the stool I sat on seem a bit wobbly.
“Will you fuck me during the whole trip?”
I sat back quickly, nearly tipping over. Whoa! Move fast much, bud?
But I liked his plain speaking. No games. He was clear about what he wanted. Like me. But did I want to whore myself for a ride? I’d done worse, of course, or I’d still be on Earth living the peachy life with real air instead of pumped-in oxygen. And honestly, would I be a true Jezebel if I was enjoying myself? I closed my eyes and tried to remember the smell of a freshly plucked dandelion. I couldn’t. That disturbed me more than sex as trade ever could.
I decided to caress his boner under the bar to keep his interest while I thought fast. He purred; men are so predictable. I could scan his credentials at my fuel station to make sure he was legit, but that was no assurance that he’d keep his promises. Besides, wasn’t it worth the risk to get off this planet and back to civilization? Damn straight.
“Thanks, lass,” he said, totally distracted by my long, steady strokes. He had a big cock, and from what I could tell via the tips of my fingers, one that would feel so good inside of me. I gripped his balls through the shimmery, slippery fabric of his pants, then slid my palm upwards to the tip of his shaft. He smiled.
I sighed. “Why aren’t you a hero who’d take me to Earth and not touch a hair on my body?”
“If you shave for me, I promise not to touch a hair, just a breast or two and a clit and some skin.”
My nipples responded, tingling. There’s more to learn here.
Like why this kind of talk turned me on. Maybe I wouldn’t be attracted to a true hero, anyway. I needed someone rough and tumble and coarse-shaven, whose chin would scrape my thighs as he lapped my juices and tongued my clit. Yeah, that’s my kind of hero. Forget the mushy professions of love. Give me the big O.
But my heart felt hollow, as it had ever since I’d been strapped into that Earth rocket and shot into exile.
The man from the moon leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “I could give you an orgasm every night while you cream and scream, all during those long, glorious months traveling back to Earth.”
Evidence of my arousal dampened my panties. My nipples became taut soldiers. Maybe trading my body for a ride would kill two birds with one stone. Get me off and get me home.
It crossed my mind that maybe I was still wanted on Earth. Maybe going home wasn’t such a good idea, but I pushed that thought aside. I could hide out in the Amazon or Nepal, if worse came to worst. I remembered the fresh taste of lobster and the smell of a true ocean, not a virtual one.
Just as I was about to offer my hand on the deal, a bio-engineered woman walked up and placed her hand on Moon Guy’s shoulder.