Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Reluctant, Science Fiction, Space,
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A shy nearly reclusive librarian winds up as a very public figure as a crewmember of the first crewed mission to Mars. Not only does she have to deal with unwanted publicity, but theres also other surprises waiting for her. Codes will be updated when I get there in the story.
"Uh, uh, uh."
Grunts and moans filled the bedroom, along with the squeaks of mattress springs and the wet slapping of bodies meeting. Dr. Elizabeth Grace, NSAA human resource specialist, moaned as she rode her lover's cock. This was just what she needed. Her lover reached up to squeeze her breasts. As he did so she leaned back covering his hands with her own, while continuing to bounce up and down on him. She was close. 'Just a little more, I'm almost, ' she thought to herself and then gasped and arched her back as her orgasm washed over her.
The sudden tightness of her pussy proved to be too much for Dr. Robert Grey. He bucked his hips, thrusting his cock deep into her hot depths one last time as his cock erupted, flooding her pussy with his seed. When he was spent, he collapsed back onto the bed and languorously ran his right hand up his lover's body to her sensuously exposed neck while she still rocked gently upon him. Gently grasping her, he pulled her down towards him for a kiss.
She moaned as his tongue found hers and gave it a gentle caress. Then she sighed and settled down on top of him, her head on his shoulder. She sighed again happily as his strong fingers ran up and down her spine. "So, do you want to tell me about it?" he asked?
Elizabeth sighed again, sadly this time. She may have the psychology degree but he was better at reading and understanding people than she'd ever be. "We lost another one today."
Elizabeth was charged with selecting the team of astronauts for Man's first trip to another planet. The main crew and their alternates had already been selected, and the ship was nearing completion. The only problem was finding someone to crew the ship for the three lonely years in space while the rest of the crew were in stasis pods.
"Have you thought about trying someone else?" Robert asked. He was the head of the US National Libraries Special Reserve Section. Both were in their late thirties and were well respected, despite their relatively young ages for their jobs. They were also very attractive and kept in shape with regular exercise.
"Everyone we've tried washes out. They all want to do it and try their best, but they just can't handle being alone that long." Elizabeth said irritably.
"Even the Russian guy? Serge what's his name?" Robert asked.
"Krishenko," she said wearily. He'd been their biggest failure. Despite living by himself on Mir II for two years, even he couldn't handle the complete isolation tests they'd given him. He's lasted far longer than any of the others, but still even he didn't meet the strict criteria those in charge had given them.
Even though the ship would be largely run remotely from Earth, Congress still wanted someone aboard who would be awake in case of emergencies. Elizabeth and NSAA understood, shared their concern, and had planned for a crew member to be awake at all times. However, Elizabeth felt that Congress' standards were harsh, considering what the actual demands would be and had requested time and time again that they be lowered only to be denied each time. Congress held firm to their requirements. There were times she felt that Congress was stalling, just to make the President look bad.
Three months complete isolation, during which time no communications with the outside world would be permitted, and the only entertainment was what the candidates brought with them.
This of course didn't match up with what they were providing on board ship. While video and radio communication would not be constant after the initial launch, it would still be available. There would also be a large digital media library. Even the internet would be available, although it would be slow. There would also be regular contact with the other crew members at regular intervals during the link ups with the supply pods that had already been rocketed on their way. So who ever was selected to be the sole crewmember not in stasis would not be completely alone.
Yet Congress insisted that the candidate be completely isolated. "You never know what technical difficulties may arise and the candidate must be able to handle any situation." one Senator told her smugly.
Elizabeth sighed again, "If we don't find a candidate soon will miss our launch window and Mars," she said quietly.
Robert remained quiet for a while as he continued to stroke her back. Finally he said "Maybe you're looking at the wrong people."
"We've looked at..." she was interrupted by his finger on her lips.
"You've looked at astronauts, people who live their lives in constant contact with others. I'm talking about people who are already used to being alone without any contact." he said.
"Like whom?" she asked, somewhat bitterly. If she didn't find a suitable candidate soon, her career would be over.
Robert ignored the bitterness in her voice and said "There are lots of people like that all over if you just look. In fact I know one. There's this one girl who works in my department who practically lives in her cubical."
"No way, I've been to you're office, remember? If there was anyone living in their cubicle I'd have seen them. Besides they'd still have contact with the others in the office." Elizabeth argued.
"I said she worked in my department, not in my office." Robert countered.
Elizabeth pushed herself up to look at him.
"She works downstairs in the stacks," Robert said, gazing back at her.
Elizabeth blinked. "You're joking, some girl lives down in that cellar you call a library?"
"It's a bomb shelter, and yes she lives there. Unofficially, of course," he replied.
"Unofficially?" she asked skeptically.
"Officially, employees aren't supposed to make use of the living facilities, except in emergencies," Robert replied.
"Living facilities?" Elizabeth asked.
"It's a bomb shelter. There's living facilities for the employees who work there, just in case the big one was ever dropped," he informed her.
Robert's department of the library worked to make sure a complete record of all works, printed and recorded, in the United States would survive a nuclear war. Like the main, public, branch of the US National Library, one of every book, CD, DVD, tape, etc., was delivered, cataloged, and placed into the stacks. The library was also constructed to shelter its employees in time of war. There were many small bedrooms and living areas, as well as kitchen facilities, restrooms, and showers. It was like a dormitory in the middle, mixed in with the library. There was even a large supply of canned, frozen, and packaged foods that would be perfectly safe to eat years from now.
"How did she come to live there?" Elizabeth asked interested in spite of herself.
Robert, moving to sit up, with his back leaning against the headboard, shrugged, "It just sort of happened. Her apartment building burned down. Most of her belongings were ok, but the building was condemned so she moved back home. Her family has a small farm in the northern part of the state, just big enough for a small roadside stand. Commuting was pretty hard on her though, so she ended up staying in her car and using the showers and kitchen before and after work. Eventually I just let her stay there during week and she'd go home on the weekends. It grew from there. Technically, she's not supposed to live there, but officially, she's testing the facilities to make sure they work."
Elizabeth grinned at how Robert twisted the rules to make them work for him. She wished she could do that.
"Why didn't she just get another apartment?"
"She can't afford it. Even before her parents died, she sent most of her money home to help with hospital bills the HMO didn't cover. Now she sends it to the bank to keep them from foreclosing and to the IRS to keep them from seizing it for the death tax."
Elizabeth shook her head. "It must be hard for her. What happened to the farm since she's here?"
"Since she couldn't run it on her own, she rents it out to a neighbor for next to nothing. She does get a shipment of fresh groceries every other week, though. Since then she's just holed up in her space and works. Since she rarely ever goes out, my secretary, one of the janitors, and I, have taken to buying her the things she needs and leaving them down there for her. Not that we need to buy her much."
"How often do you see her?"
"Hmm. The last time I saw her was maybe a month ago. Or was it two months?"
"She's been down there for two months without seeing anyone?"
"Probably longer but I'd have to check with Louise and Hank about that. We do have contact with her though, mostly through e-mail and written notes when we drop off groceries. And of course there's the dropping off of new arrivals."
"So she has plenty of contact," Elizabeth said disappointedly.
"Nope, the shipments are left in the elevator bay. The deliverymen never see her. Sam goes through them later."
"She sounds a bit like a recluse. I'd like to meet her."