Our Place in the Sun

For the first time since Trisha's arrival in St-Cloud, Katsumi's stoicism faltered and she began sobbing without restraint.

But this is not the piece of wisdom Trisha needed; she carried on while comforting her aunt in her arms. "But... the sex... how did he know?"

"Trisha!" Katsumi, startled, was now coughing, choked in her own sobbing. "He didn't! He just... wanted me, breasts, penis and all! In fact, I remember Chris being braver about sex than I was, in the beginning."

"And... you didn't mind? Youuu were... satisfied?" That last question sounded like a shameful whimper.

"Trisha, why all this curiosity now? Are you falling for someone?" Katsumi now harbored a hopeful smile.

"I dunno, aunt Kat, maybe..." and this admission was like pressure on a pimple: the rest just gushed out. "I mean, you see the way I look, so you know boys, guys and men hound me constantly; it's just always so... crass, so cheap, I can almost never look myself in the mirror afterwards... and the sex is always so BAD! But, I've been hanging out with this terrific person, a transwoman like you... and a nudist, with more toughness than hullmetal. She's a bartender at A.C.Clarke terminal. I think we're friends but... you know about my next tour... I'm probably not going to see her again. Plus... I don't know if she's into guys or girls... she keeps on saying that she's just happier self-sucking!" Trisha chuckled and Katsumi saw a tender smile on her goddaughter's face, plus emerging tear tracks.

"Trisha..." Katsumi could not resist caressing Trisha's anguished face "...in matters of the heart, gender determination and disclosure doesn't matter. What does matter is whether you two are into each other. Also, bear in mind that not seeing someone for two years is not the same thing as never seeing them again... we live long lives, Trisha, but we live only once."

"So... what should I do?"

"Ask, silly girl! Or do something about it... being in love is a state of mind, but to love is a verb. It implies action."

"Like... what did uncle Chris do?"

"You mean, aside from asking me to love him, teach me about love and make a nuclear rocket feel like home? He used some of his gardening space on the roof to grow me flowers; he always hand-pressed my coffee in the morning; he always called home, first thing after lunch, to ask how I was doing, and he always said I love you; he always let me win at golf and stubbornly denied it; he always bought me chocolate for Valentine's day, even if he had another big extravaganza planned..."

"That's pretty mundane stuff, aunt Kat... no offense."

"Of course it is! How else do you share a whole life? Trisha, I have lived more than 53 000 hours all alone in space with Chris and then more than 20 000 days married to him; do you think we could have upped each and every moment with passionate intensity? Sometimes, you need to appreciate a quiet breakfast without a PhD level debate or an Earth-shattering declaration of love."

"Thank you, aunt Kat... I'll remember that. So... did uncle Chris do anything else special?"

After a short, thoughtful silence, Katsumi added "...Chris always kept his promises... except one..." and sobbed again.

"What was it, aunt Kat?"

"I made him promise that he would survive me... because I don't know how I will live without him..." Katsumi then crumbled on Trisha's shoulder and wailed in pain. Poor Trisha was stomped for words and powerless to soothe her.

Of all things, it was the chime from the building security access panel that dammed Katsumi's cascade of sorrow. "Miss Miyazaki, you have an unappointed and unknown visitor."

Katsumi rose to the panel. "Yes? Who is it?"

"Good evening, Miss Miyazaki, my name is Vicky Allinder... I'm a friend of Trisha and I believe she's here with you."

Trisha Tomlinson slouched on the sofa and whispered in disbelief. "Venus... fuck meee..."

Katsumi's expression morphed fluidly from grief to delight in a mere instant. "Trisha will greet you at the door."

2. Up where we belong

"This is nice, Trish... where are we, exactly?"

"We are on my uncle's boat and anchored on East Lake Tohopekaliga, in St-Cloud, Florida." Both were moongazing, sitting on pillows and cushions at the bow.

"Your aunt is a real class act, you know that? In fact, you could learn a thing or two from her..." she pinched the skin on Trisha's shoulder to press her point.

"Ouch! Such as?"

"Oh... I don't know... people skills, maybe! I mean, you would think that a friend dropping by unannounced, from orbit, to lend emotional support would elicit a more appreciative hail of welcome than GET YOUR PORNSTAR DICK IN HERE!"

Trisha sighed... she knew she had it coming. "Come ooon! I was so flabbergasted to see you and I'm tired as all hell; besides, how was I to know that you would show up in that ridiculous - but very nice - little white dress?" Said dress was now stored in the boat's hatch.

"Trish, I'm no expert on Earth etiquette but I'm pretty sure you don't show up naked at a funeral service, nudist license notwithstanding. Given proper time, I would have even erased my tattoos."

"NOOO! I love that tattoo of yours! And you look perfect just as you are, funeral service notwithstanding! I just feel bad that I keep forgetting all the names of the Gods that die, though, except for Thor of course, because... well, he rocks."

Venus had indeed done this dozens of times since she had served Trisha her first double, over three and a half years ago. "This one is Heimdallr, The Watcher and Holder of Sacred Horn; this one is your God, Freyr, God of virility; this one is Odin..."

By the time Venus had finished telling the tale of the Twilight of the Gods, Trisha was sound asleep, gently rocked by the lake. Venus placed her properly on the pillows and watched her rest, with a hopeful smile and a bursting heart.

---

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

Venus would never know just how transfixed Trisha was at seeing her, her red hair seemingly ablaze against the Florida rising sun and the blue of her eyes mirroring this morning cloudless sky. She could only stare at her, all sleepy-eyed and mesmerized mute.

"Come on, lazybrain! For all the gratitude I have for this morning, I would still feel real godawful if I missed my return flight."

That woke her up. "Mmmrmmgl... what was so special about this morning, Venus?"

"Well, admiring your stellar boobs at my leisure while you slept was a pretty good turn-on... but that was just the entree; for the main course, I've just finished gazing at my first Earthly sunrise..." no words followed.

Now that Trisha was paying extra attention, she could discern freshly wiped tear tracks on Venus' lovely face.

"How do you feel, Venus... did you get any sleep?"

"Naa... I figure I'm on enough stims to make it until my sleep period tomorrow morning... at which time I expect to crash pretty unceremoniously."

"You really shouldn't do that, you know? Still... I don't think I've properly thanked you for all that you did. I know I show it all wrong, Venus, but I'm completely floored. Why did you do it?"

Venus now had a nervous, trembling voice. "Well... Trish... you said you needed me... do I need a better excuse?"

Trisha silently mimed a "wow" and was now breathing very deeply. After raising the anchor and setting the boat autopilot for the St-Cloud public boat ramp - which she did while constantly staring at Venus with a piercing gaze - Trisha took her leap of faith. "Do you really like admiring my boobs, Venus... or is it just fun talk?" Trisha was still wearing her mourning clothes: a black turtle-neck sweater that tastefully hid her bosoms but also clearly displayed their spectacular outline, and an elegant knee-length skirt. Her childhood rosary was nestled inside her cleavage - no garment could ever totally conceal it. Her red hair was cut so short, as befits any spacecrew, that its styling was not an issue. Her black-red lipstick could not dispel her expression of hope, as she now faced Venus.

"You really have no clue? Trish... I wanted to kill all the worthless male noodles who had the undeserved privilege of seeing them before me..."

Trisha took a breath so deep it was loud. "Then you should put your money where your mouth is." She had already removed her rosary and pulled up her sweater; she had now begun to unclasp her bra, an off-white elaborate brassiere with a nanocarbon underwire. Trisha's breasts were still masked but the thrill of expecting Trisha's treasure had Venus completely bedazzled.

And yet, Venus meekly protested, by sheer force of will. "No, Trish! Please don't do this! Not here, not now..."

"Why not?" Trisha only slowed down, she wasn't stopping.

"Because it's daylight and we only have a couple of minutes... I'm a nudist and you're not... if we're to have a first time, it can wait." Venus made her plea with a quivering voice.

"I'm not a nudist, but I'm not a Florida citizen either... and I, for one, can't think of a better moment or setting for our first time..." her bra dropped at that very moment, and Trisha was now offering herself in all her legendary topless glory. "Come here... Venus, they're all yours!" Trisha's breasts were huge pale-white mounds crested by large pink areolas and small protruding nipples that looked so hard, they incited biting. Her cleavage completely obscured her chest and, even if it was still firm and without sag, her bust dropped down to her bellybutton. Trisha, who knew by now very well how to display her breasts to their full titillating advantage, now leaned slightly forward with her arms pressed on her sides; her melons were now juggling under the pull of gravity, pressed forward in an astonishing dual circumference. Trisha looked like a luscious and taunting sexual nymph. In fact, Vicky could no longer see Trisha's skirt behind her knockers: she might as well be nude.

Trisha heard her would-be lover lose her breath. "Please, Trish... sit down in front of the cabin entrance. Fuck! I can't believe I'm shy about this!"

Trisha complied with an amused grin... she was enjoying the tortured look on Venus. "Like this?"

"Yesss..."

Venus was mere centimeters away from her most cherished fantasy and yet, her hands hovered in mid-air, as if resisting some force of nature. She could feel her face and figured it must be flushed in a red that just might match her hair and lips. And then she saw something in Trisha's eyes that won over the attraction force of her chest. She put her hand on Trisha's cheeks, closed her eyes and moved in nervously for a kiss.

Trisha was surprised and a little unsettled. "Venus... I..."

Venus opened her eyes and her royal blue gaze was so tender that her violent tattoo now seemed out of place. She hushed Trisha with a finger on her lips, felt them tremble and whispered lovingly. "Trish... will you please call me Vicky?"

"Of course, V... Vicky! But... why? I've never heard you ask that of anyone..."

"Trish... this isn't fun talk... this is... personal." And Vicky finally kissed the woman of her dreams. Trisha was taken aback: she was used to male tongues roughly invading her buccal space for a brief moment, before feeling brutish hands pawing at her breasts; this was in a completely different orbit. Vicky's lips were moist, gorged into a luscious velvety softness and they hovered on hers, hoping, begging for a reciprocal feeling. Vicky had always been nude but, in that single moment, Trisha felt that she was now naked in front of her.

This resulted in an ignition that made the infamous 4 740 km/s exhaust of a nuclear saltwater rocket feel like a firecracker. Trisha closed her eyes and returned the kiss with her own critical mass. She lunged forward so forcefully that Vicky had to brace herself; her tongue was exploring Vicky's mouth as if seeking answers to dozens of unasked questions; her hands were mapping Vicky's powerful back and feeling, for the first time, the special touch of her painted flesh; last, but certainly not least, their closeness pressed together their breasts and nipples. The impact on Vicky was seemingly explosive: Trisha felt Vicky's mounds instantly shiver, perk up and her nipples harden like warm pebbles.

Vicky broke the kiss, stepped back and was out of breath as if she had just run for her life. "Trish... I had always dreamed... this is so amazing... I... I..." she could not speak anymore: she could only moan softly, completely overwhelmed by the soft pressing of their nipples together.

"Vickyyy... you have beautiful breasts, do you know that?" Trisha was now caressing Vicky's almost-hard mounds and sensually massaging her own knockers with her nipples.

That shocked Vicky. "Don't be ridiculous, Trish... your breasts are so soft... so BIG... so full... my puny 70As feel like HRT-grown ironing boards." Vicky had now followed Trisha's lead and was caressing her jaw-dropping knockers, mapping their jiggle and their cleavage with both her hands and her nipples. She had a lot of fleshy real estate to cover and she was feeling jolts of pleasure running, from her spiked hair to her toes, while doing it.

"Mmmmmhhh... well, like I said... they're all yours, Vicky... and..." Trisha instinctively recognized a feeling she had long known about, but never felt before, and her smile was now beaming. "You should reaaally suck them now, baby!"

Both were breathing quicker and quicker; their voices were rising in pitch. "Oh yeaaa? Mmmh... whyyy?"

"Becauuuse... aaah! youHOUUU! Are making themmmmm... CUMMM!" Trisha was now a wanton woman possessed. She grabbed Vicky's head and brought her lips to her nipple. Trisha, amused, did notice that her paramour's face was smaller than her breast and she loosened her vise to ensure Vicky could still breathe. Vicky's eyes then almost shot out of their sockets: her lips were already feeling a milky wetness from Trisha's nipple. "Come on, baby! Feed on them! Put your hands on them! OWN THEMMM!"

And Vicky, thunderstruck, kneeled in front of Trisha and merrily complied. She was sucking on Trisha's right nipple, kneading her bosom with both hands and gulping down squirt after squirt of her milk. She cooed in satisfaction, moaned in bliss and guffawed in wonder... all in rapid and random succession. At one point, Vicky took one hand off Trisha's right breast to massage her left nipple - sure enough, she felt liquid life trickle between her fingers. She moaned loudly, completely overwrought by her own happiness.

"Yes, my baby... I have plenty more for you... and you really should drink it all... ouuuh... it feels sooo GOOD!" While they both carried on with their erotic breastfeeding, it was now Trisha's turn to be shocked. She was feeling a new and fleshy caress on her leg... while Vicky's hands were quite busy manhandling her humongous mounds.

(Oh my GGGODDD!!! Her cock is a temple pillar! Come on, Trish! DO something!)

Trisha hesitantly rubbed Vicky's huge veined shaft with her foot - her only motile body part in range - and Vicky's moan of contentment gave her confidence to be more active and more bold in her caresses.

"Trisha... you are AMAZING! Keep going!" To be spurred on by her paramour in this way, her lips now all whitened with milk, was nothing short of spellbinding. While Vicky was switching to feed on her left breast, Trisha deftly formed a cock sleeve with her two feet. Their breastfeeding was now augmented by a tender first-time footjob and a concerto of moans of bliss.

Trisha was awed by both the length of Vicky's shaft and its girth, which she was now measuring in her unique way. She felt the wetness in her labia, confirming to her in no uncertain terms how eager she was to welcome it inside her. And when Vicky decided to actively hump her monster dick between her soles, the concerto of moans became a symphony. The passion of the moment was getting to both of them: Trisha could now see that her left breast was being crushed and mauled, but she felt nothing but gushing milk and loving elation from their new and unique connection.

When each squirt of milk was matched by a suppressed yell that vibrated from the bottom of Vicky's throat, Trisha knew her climax was coming soon and now, she dared a swift, improvised jerk-off with her feet. Trisha was rewarded by feeling throbs of seismic intensity. At that moment, Vicky relinquished her nipple, arced back and screamed in ecstasy at the rising sun. And Trisha felt spurts of come wet her calves, her knees, even her hips... and then trickle down her feet while she milked Vicky's rocket dry.

Moments later, both of them were lying down beside the helm. Vicky was resting on Trisha's breasts, as if they were large cushions, and had finished her milky meal. Both giggled in amazement at the reveals of the morning but, eventually, the change of regime of the engine and the chime of the collision warning system snatched them out of their private paradise. Trisha spoke in a guilty whisper. "I believe we made it to port..."

Vicky kissed her casually. "I got this, honey. You go get dressed... and you can always tie the boat better before we leave." She then picked up the lines and got to work. Trisha, to save some time, just borrowed Vicky's dress and slid it on top of her. She then just took the helm like nothing was out of the ordinary, made sure nothing was amiss on the boat and, finally, disembarked to help Vicky with the lines.

But Trisha didn't dare move once she stepped on the pier. It was obvious that Vicky was mesmerized at the sight of her and that made Trisha blush and become self-conscious. "Euh... sorry about the dress, Vicky. I'll wash it before I return it to you, of course..."

"Don't be silly, Trish... keep it. I have been so stupid... all these years and not once have I ever noticed how beautiful you are."

"My tits tend to have that effect on people. Seriously, Vicky, I..."

"Hush! I get that you are insecure about all this, because I am too... but do not cheapen this moment... this so beautiful moment... with defensive humor. We obviously need to talk, and I also need to ask you a favor, but for now, you listen and you listen good: Trisha, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen! And you are perfect just as you are! If anything, I just wish you would let your hair grow a little... once you will be allowed and if you want, of course."

Trisha Tomlinson was paralyzed and her face was blushing so deeply that the red in her cheeks almost masked their pale freckles. She stood on the pier, barefoot and clad in nothing but her skirt and her lover's little white dress, which did little to hide her cavernous cleavage or her massive mammaries. She was almost a head shorter than Vicky - so about 1,70 m - and her eyes were of a pale grey that sparkled under this early morning Florida sun, as was her red crewcut hair. If one discounts her massive and obvious bust, Trisha's frame was actually rather slim and toned by the constant exercise regimen that daily life in weightlessness demands. Trisha had instinctively placed her hands behind her back, showcasing herself and also propping up her breasts to the point that the white dress barely reached her skirt and left almost nothing of her cleavage to the imagination. Her smiling expression blended shyness and hope.

"I will remember that... the hair, I mean. Vicky... do you really think that I'm pretty?"

"Not only do I think it... I feel it! And if you keep staring at me like that, I'm going to get hard again and then there's no way I'll catch my transfer flight! So what do you need for me to do?"

Trisha's smile was now outshining the sun. "Can you drive?"

"No... born in orbit, grew up in orbit, live in orbit... remember?"

"Truth be told, Vicky, I did not know that. It seems we do have a lot to talk about indeed. All right then... if you would be so kind as to clean our... little mess, I will secure the lines and fetch the trailer." That marked the end of their first romantic interlude.