Our Place in the Sun

---

"So, Vicky... if I recall, you have a favor to ask of me?" They had just finished parking the boat at the Lakefront park dry-dock and were returning to Katsumi's car.

"Yes, but I'm embarrassed to ask. Trish... I had never flown before yesterday; and I was all rolled up in a ball during the entire reentry flight... that's how scared I was. Now, with the idea of being... hooked up... slung..." Vicky was already shaking like a leaf at these very thoughts.

"Say no more, sweetie... I'll be sitting right there beside you."

"Are you sure? That's depriving you of family time..."

"Now YOU hush! You need me; that's all there is to it."

---

"Thank you so much again, Miss Miyazaki; breakfast was delicious... and I'm so sorry to have to run like this; plus depriving you of your goddaughter..."

"Think nothing of it, Vicky. Meeting you was a great pleasure, and I'm happy to know Trisha can count on such a good friend up there." Katsumi's kisses on Vicky's cheeks were not decorous, they were heartfelt smooches.

Now, it was Trisha's turn. "Trisha..." nothing more was needed. After a life of transparent guidance, how else can you bid a loved one your final farewell? Both hugged each other, speechless, and when Trisha could not stand the pain anymore, she kissed her great-aunt on her forehead, on her eyelids, on her cheeks, on her hands, and finally left without turning around. Vicky followed after discreetly waving goodbye, deeply moved and lost for words.

---

"Vicky, do you love me?" Vicky guffawed and choked on her sip of iced coffee.

"You sure can cut to the chase! Is there a towel, somewhere in here, before I mess up your rental car?"

"Sorry about that. Here, have some tissue. You know, we don't have much time to ponder what we are to each other and act on it. Besides, it helps that I have to watch the road... you know, should the autopilot fail."

"I suppose it does." Vicky did not press the issue that autopilot failure had never occurred, anywhere in the solar system, during her entire lifetime. Besides, she was busy drying herself up.

"Well... do you?"

"I don't know, Trish..." she saw the sigh she feared on her beloved's face and speed-talked, panicked. "It's not what you think! And it's not you! The only act of love I have ever known in my life was one of abandonment. And to me sex has always been sex; period. What we lived this morning... plus what I saw between you and your godmother... that's all new to me. The one thing I know for sure is that I will never lie to you. So, I'm sorry Trish... but that answer is as good as I've got right now."

"Fair enough. What act of love were you talking about, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't mind that you ask... I am afraid to answer, though."

"Why?"

"Trish, what are your two essential pet peeves when you sit at my bar?"

"That would beee... that I look like a cow and aaaaah... that people think I'm a space whore, I guess..."

"Correct... as it turns out, Trish, my mom IS a space whore. So I don't really want to talk about her, least of all to you."

"Yikes! What earns me that distinction?"

"I don't want you to think less of me."

"Then you really don't know me at all, if you think that your genetic source material could change my esteem of you... or my feelings for you, for that matter."

"I guess I owe you an apology, then... and I'll take your word for it." After a quick pause to collect her thoughts, Vicky told the tale. My... mom... was - or maybe still is - a registered ISA sex worker; in those days, she mostly serviced on the asteroid mining circuit. That's where I... arrived."

"Be kind, rewind... wasn't she on contraception... I mean, aren't we all, while in space?"

"She told me she was... so either her biocontrol was defective or... well... I've read that the brain is pretty powerful..."

"You lost me there, Vicky."

"Trish, the few times mom told me the tale, when we met, she had a puppy-love face and moist eyes. She only knew of... dad... that he was a bear of a man and that, for that one night, he worshipped her like a Goddess. So, I dunno, maybe it's stupidly romantic of me but... I like to think that... maybe... she just got pregnant anyway."

Trisha instantly thought of a more cynical variant to her love-over-drugs scenario and wisely chose to keep it to herself. Besides, it didn't really matter. "Then what happened?"

"I won the lottery, Trish. I mean, of all the ways this thing could have played out..." she sighed and Trisha waited her out in silence. "Mom contacted dad using his liaison contract ID, which turned out not to be fake. He actually recognized his paternal responsibility and, as he had just hit the motherlode mining a claim on an iron-nickel Trojan, he settled it in a one-off payment, every penny of it placed in a trust to my name. After my birth, mom relinquished her maternal rights to the ISA social services division... she loved me enough to let me go."

"That's beautiful, Vicky... and also sad! How was it for you, growing up?"

"Not as bad as you seem to think. A.C.Clarke has everything in terms of amenities; my education was supervised; my growth and health were monitored, especially considering my... conception; later, when I came to terms with my gender dysphoria, I was cared for, with almost no questions asked; truth be told, until I turned 17 and had to sign up for an ISA commission, my only real chagrin was not having seen the sun with my own eyes! It could have been so much worse, Trish... in fact, I have studied some of the worse case scenarios, and some of those made me puke!"

Trisha placed her hand on top of hers. Of all the feelings she had to sort out regarding Vicky, she had just added admiration to the list. "Let me guess... you're studying social work?"

"You guessed right. Of course, it's not progressing rapidly, owing to my work schedule. I'm also a licensed tattoo artist now, though I seldom paint other people." Vicky had softly returned her grip.

"Do you still work 12 shifts of six hours every week?"

"Yup... the same watch schedule as spacecrews, just like you! We get four off-watch periods a week, instead of R&R time."

"That's not right..." Trisha whispered almost as if she was responsible for her plight.

"Don't be like that, Trish... you know about ISA economics and logistics as well as I do... besides there's nothing we can do about it and it doesn't matter. SO! Change of subject: at your aunt's, when I offered my condolences and asked what claimed your uncle, you not-so-subtly stomped on my foot... why?"

"On Earth, THAT is now considered bad etiquette. Practically all Earthers who don't fall to crime or armed conflict die in their 90s now, and it's always the brain that goes kaput. There's almost no accidental deaths anymore and rejuvenation medicine can fix practically any ailment or organ decay, if you can afford it; believe me, if you had met my mom, you would not be looking at me with these wide eyes."

"Oh... is that how you got your jaw-dropping rack?"

"Indirectly, I would say..."

"I don't get it."

"My mom was the third child in her family..."

"Does she knows who ceded his or her birthright?" Trisha was pleasantly surprised and then remembered Vicky studies social work.

"Uncle Chris..."

"Ohhh wow! That must really hit close to home!"

"Yes, you can say that. He was a father to mom and more of a father to me than my dear Mr. sperm." Vicky guffawed. "Yea... I can speak about my daddy issues later if you wish; for now, I'll stick to my boobies. Mom was driven to excel in life and, contrary to her two older sisters, does not remember a thing about her father. She took over grandmother Phoebe's already strong legal practice and she made it skyrocket, but she remained alone with her abandonment complex and her vanity - she has always been very keen on her professional image and, even early in her career, had already had some rejuvenation touch-ups done on herself."

The car was now parking at the rental center of Cape Canaveral orbital transfer station but Trisha just kept on going and Vicky just sat and listened, captivated. "By the time she nears her forties, she obsesses about not being a mother yet, despite the reassuring support from the rest of our family. To complicate matters, the only man mom ever truly wanted for herself is a real player: BDSM, swinging, orgies, bi-stuff, whatever. So, get this: she gets herself completely rejuvenated, head to toe, and sets her sight on beguiling his girlfriend at the time! Needless to say, her seduction-by-threesome plan worked like a charm! So she sets up their multiple union and she finally gets knocked up, right on schedule. As it turns out, it seems that her genes, plus some of whatever hormonal replacements she had already got, passed on into my knockers! Can you believe that it was my pediatrician, of all people, who informed me that I might lactate! He also warned me about backaches and the like... so I suppose one day I might need a breast reduction, but I'm young and I haven't had my own kids yet sooo... I guess you could say that I'm enjoying my rack while I can!"

Vicky was dizzy at the fantasy of seeing a pregnant Trisha with even more engorged breasts. She kissed her hand. "Aren't we a pair?"

"Why do you say that, Vicky?"

"Two love children who don't know about love themselves."

Trisha returned her kiss, but on her lips. "Speak for yourself, missy... I love you. And we need to hurry for that flight."

---

"How long will it take?" Vicky was as tense as a violin string and Trisha looked, amused, at both of their hands being turned red-white by her grip.

"About a half-hour, Vicky: 7 minutes of ascent in the hyperplane, capture, 9 minutes of tether swing, orbital course corrections, docking and then you're back behind your bar."

"That far... so quick?"

"Well, yeaaa, do the math if you like... we're going to ride at 3,5 km/s..."

"NOT HELPINGGG!!!" Trisha chuckled. "Why are the seats all ballooned up again? Are we going to be crushed like during the drop?"

"No Vicky... the ascent is actually much smoother. The acceleration will be a smudge over two gees at its worst."

They both could feel that the hyperplane had stopped taxiing, as the electric motors in the landing gear were shut off and a slight tremor indicated that the brakes had been locked on. Then they both heard a soft rumble behind them. "What about the fuel? Any chance of us catching radiation disease or something?"

"Nooo, dummy! We're not in a nuclear rocket, it's a standard hydrogen-oxygen mixture and a very standard 100 km rocket plane climb; we've been doing this since the 1960s, Vicky... please relax!"

The ignition sequence had started. "HaHAAA! Relax, she says... and you use to DO THIS?!?"

Trisha was not enjoying this anymore. She was pained at seeing Vicky's terror. She recalled her basic training: there are some people whose mind just cannot handle space or whose inner ears cannot support living in a rotating centrifuge. She used her second hand to caress their whitened grip and spoke with all the tenderness she could muster. "Yes, Vicky... I did this for a year. It's a first tour of choice for ISA spacecrews; some even make a whole service out of it."

They were now airborne and both were feeling a slight pressing due to the acceleration. Trisha let Vicky breathe again before narrating the ascent for her. "We're now climbing out of the thicker, lower atmosphere, under rocket and wing power. Pretty soon, the pilot will sweep back the wings... and we're about to go supersonic so you'll hear a slight boom, abouuut... now."

Vicky was startled; not by the sonic boom, but by silence. Trisha guessed it. "The atmosphere is now getting thinner and, in any case, we're flying faster than the outside sound. Now we'll take our ascent angle... it will soon feel like a roller-coaster climb."

"We don't have roller-coasters in A.C.Clarke!"

"Sorry, Vicky, my bad. There... this will be as steep as it gets."

"Thank you... for all this."

"You're welcome. Here... why don't you focus on something different for a minute or two." And Trisha, while saying that, gently placed Vicky's hand under her bra. She responded right away by gently fondling the offered melons, while avoiding the nipples in case of a liquid response.

"Lucky you, Trish... you have your very own acceleration cushion..."

"Fun-ny!" They were leveling somewhat and Vicky's breathing quickened again.

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost, Vicky... we're at the Karman line, 100 km high, and the pilot is now synchronizing his GPS and the autopilot's atomic clock for the tether capture."

"And it's precise, right? I mean, it's what you do now?"

"Yes, Vicky, the timepieces and flight computers are precise to a hundredth of femtosecond. There has never been a failed capture... only aborted ones if the conditions are wrong... in which case we will just glide down for a landing."

"How will it feel?"

"The capture? A slight noise overhead and a shift in g-force: it will be truly downwards once our cabin detaches from the hyperplane and the tether begins swinging us into orbit."

Seconds later, the events played out as predicted and Vicky's breathing was relaxing.

"Very gooood, Vicky! How do you feel? We will be at two gees, like this, for the entire lift..."

"Not bad, Trish... I just shut my eyes and imagine it's you sitting on my lap!" Vicky had, indeed, her eyes shut but also a wicked grin.

"That's a good thought to have... for now and for later!" Trisha licked lusciously Vicky's upper arm while Trisha's breasts were still the object of Vicky's tender loving care.

"How long have you been doing this, Trish?"

"One two-year tour, serving on this very tether station, and in almost three months I will finish another two-year tour, this one on the Earth-Mars launcher..."

"And then you leave for a Venus Lagrange station... whatever the fuck that means."

"You remembered..." Trisha's face had now crumpled in guilt.

"Yes, Trish... although now is not a good time to make this point, I don't just gawk at your divine tits when you talk to me at the bar." Vicky nibbled Trisha's nipples for the first time during the flight; Trisha cooed in delight.

"Mmmmm... we should talk about this..."

"No... there is nothing to discuss. I refuse to be the person that prevents you from living your life. Did you listen to yourself during the flight, Trish? You love this shit! And if you love me too, as you say you do, then you go be a space traffic controller. We're still young... and after today, I know for damn sure that I'm not going anywhere!!! I will still be there for youOUHOOOAAARGH!"

Vicky's passionate plea was instantly supplanted by her discomfort in weightlessness. Trisha could do little else than offer her a barf bag. "It's just for another short while, Vicky... hang in there! We're already in final approach... it's going super well!"

"Now I know you're all fucked up for sure!!! You LIVE like this?"

"Hey, don't scoff at zero-g living! Why do you think my whoppers have stayed so firm for all this time, huh?"

"Oh... huh... wow! You sure know how to focus a dick out of motion sickness!!!" Vicky was laughing weakly.

"Don't talk like that, Vicky, please... you're a woman; an amazing woman, in fact..."

"You're sweet, Trish. And you have just talked me through my first space flight. Thanks a million." Vicky finally surrendered her breast playthings so she could use both her hands to caress Trisha's cheeks and kiss her, indifferent to the curious look of the other passengers already gliding out of the cabin. "Come on, babe... please lead me to gravity."

"Sure..."

They were the last to leave and were now gliding towards one of the station elevators that would carry them to one of the orbital terminal's immense rotating living quarters and to the artificial gravity Vicky sought so much. But their speed was suspiciously leisurely and a sudden pull on Vicky's wrist confirmed that Trisha had intended a course change all along, away from the marked passengers path.

"Hey, Trish... what the fuck? Can we even do this?"

"Sure... we both have ISA credentials, don't we? Trust me, you'll love this!" There was something about Trisha's hopeful smile that quelled all of Vicky's fears... and her upset stomach, not to mention her buzzing sinuses.

Trisha dragged Vicky through a small access panel. "Where are we, Trish? I feel almost claustrophobic in here..."

"Here? It's a maintenance access panel... for autoengineers, mostly. Does it matter?"

"Well... what are we doing here, then?"

"According to uncle Chris... something amazing..." Trisha then expertly slid out of her space coveralls and, during a seal-like tumble, off went her bra as well. Then she slowly performed an airborne twist and, now clad only in bright red lace panties, she opened her arms to invite her lover.

Vicky's mind and body both turned to jelly. "Huuuh! You fucking adorable cunt! How am I supposed to resist you now?"

Trisha whispered in mischief, like the partner in crime that she was. "You're not, baby... do you need help getting your monster cock free? And will you put it between my tits or inside my pussy?"

Vicky was floating, still completely stupefied. Trisha was slowly rotating on herself and completely at ease, with a lazy smile and her eyes ablaze in lust; her breasts were either floating apart or softly colliding with each other, in a display of such eroticism that Vicky's hungry eyes and heartbeat were tidally locked to it. Trisha ended up upside down and approached Vicky gently, in a vertical 69, to help her out of her coveralls; and poor Vicky was so absorbed by the sight of Trisha's gently waving whoppers and the feel of their skin - she could now caress them - that she didn't notice the thankful release of her gigantic erection in mid-air.

"At long last... I can finally touch your wonderful shaft with my hands..." Vicky indeed felt Trisha's palms warmly introduce themselves to her whitezilla, which was now so hard that it was almost shivering "...and my mouth too." That lewd whimper was followed by two lips of unimaginable softness kissing Vicky's huge bulb of a glans and just remaining there, as if tasting its very flesh. With an excruciating sloth, Vicky felt Trisha's lips lovingly smother the tip of her cock and then inch their way along her engorged shaft. Trisha then quickly set her penis free. "Vicky baby... you taste so sweet... and you're so fucking BIG! I am in awe of your beautiful body... and a little afraid of pitting your anaconda against my lips or my holes..."

Vicky was busy making sure this intimate exchange was shared. She had planted her face right on top of Trisha's panties and was immersing herself in her sexual aroma, breathing so forcefully she was almost sniffing. She was torn between what to experience next and Trisha's timid admission cinched it for her. "In that case, darling, why don't you get my shaft all nice and wet so I can finally ride the canyon between your twin peaks. We'll figure out the rest later."

For sole response, Vicky felt a velvety, warm, wet, slurp coat an entire side of her shaft with drool. And Trisha's moan of enjoyment could now be heard. She had anchored her hands on Vicky's bottom and kept all of her fleshy pillar for her own lips and her tongue. In less than a dozen of such loving iterations, Vicky could feel her huge pecker completely coated with drool, to the point that she was now seeing some droplets floating alongside them.

Both knew it was time. Trisha rotated right-side up and asked, in a voice so low it was almost a rumble. "Vicky, baby... do you want only my tits or can I use my lips as well?"

Vicky was so overwhelmed, her eyes were moist. "Trish, I will be thankful for any part of you that you offer me... always."