I woke from a sound sleep to a hand lightly caressing my cock, and a voice whispering in my ear. "Nate ... Nate." That was my wife Sue. "Oh, Nate, you hot sexy guy. There's a cunt that needs your attention, a lovely smooth cunt, can't you feel it as you slide in?" She paused. "It's a HOT one, too."

"Laura?" I asked.

"Yes," said Sue. Laura had been sick, and she still had a fever.

My cock rose rapidly, though the rest of me was still climbing out of a deep sleep. I sighed. I never turned down a girl who needed me, but it was rare I needed to get up in the night.

"OK," I said, tensing my muscles to sit up.

Sue gently pushed me back down. "No, no, you stay here. You need your rest. She'll come to you."

I didn't argue.

"You can relax -- everything but your dick." As usual, I had been sleeping naked, and now I lounged on my back, idly stroking my hard cock. I started drifting back into my dream -- the recurring dream of trying to drag myself out of a deep sleep.

I woke from my doze as two people entering the room. Sue steadied Laura as she knelt on the bed above me.

"Hi, dad," she said. "Sorry to wake you up."

"It's nothing, sweetie," I said.

She pointed my cock where she wanted it, then slid down, engulfing it in her pussy as she went. She was deliciously warm inside, warmer than the usual pussy, but not burning with fever. Fucking a girl with a high fever was a pleasure all its own. It wasn't very sensitive to the sick, miserable girl to give full voice to my special ecstasy, but it was a magnificent feeling.

When Laura had engulfed me to the hilt, I could feel her relax.

"Oh, daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy!" she moaned, as the tension on her face gave way to a blissful smile.

She lifted herself up and down a couple times, half-heartedly, but then slumped forward onto me, falling asleep.

Her pussy was still around my cock, and I pressed gently in and out a little, hoping to give her sweet dreams. There was part of me that wanted to flip her over and fuck her hard and fast and come in her, but that would never do.

"OK," whispered Sue. "You're a good daddy..." And as she put her arms down on the bed beside me, in the basic configuration of a forklift, I gently rolled my convalescing daughter off right into Sue's arms, my cock springing loose. Sue reached over to share a brief kiss with me, then rose with Laura in her arms to carry her back to bed.

"She's not quite so warm," I whispered as she left. My cock was a surprisingly sensitive thermometer, in a world with none of the standard varieties.

I fell asleep almost at once, dimly aware that my cock was rapidly deflating.

The earth was dying. The climate change that had started in the late 20th century had grown out of control.

More and more areas were becoming scorched deserts or Arctic wastelands. More species were declining or going extinct, including an alarming number of food crops, as complex ecologies turned out to be considerably more complex than the biologists had imagined.

In the previous five years the truly astonishing had happened. Rainfall had virtually ceased across large areas of the planet, and every indication was that soon rain would only fall over the oceans, never on the land where it was needed to support crops. Scientists said the problem should start reversing itself within five thousand years, but that was little comfort to anyone.

At the same time, the sun had become restless. The scientists didn't claim to know just when it would flare up and scorch the earth permanently. Somewhere within the next thousand years, they estimated.

If humans were to survive, they would have to survive somewhere else.

Over the previous few decades, there had been adequate funding for the basic research on the Exodus. With the cessation of rainfall and the restlessness of the sun, the gravity of the situation sank in, and massive resources were devoted to the task. It was one way to give a bit of hope to billions of people as they died from starvation or thirst.

The concept was clear enough. Humans would travel out into space, setting up colonies on other worlds and keeping the species and its culture alive. The idea had been a staple of science fiction since its inception. Now, as the earth had died, humans perishing in agony contemplated it as a reality. They had suffered a bit less considering the hope that human civilization would be reestablished in distant star systems.

The obstacles in the way of this travel to the stars were immense.

Warp drive does not exist. Wormholes and singularities in the fabric of space and time exist, but not ones that human bodies can move through and remain intact.

No, humans would have to move between stars by proven methods: rocket ship, and ion thrusters. It was not that hard to find a way to accelerate a ship to travel at 1/200 of the speed of light. The problem was how to slow it down at the other end of the journey. One key idea was running the well known "gravity slingshot" in reverse, using gravitational fields of stars to slow the ships down.

But with all that, it would take thousands or more typically millions of years to reach nearby candidate stars.

The idea that a ship of living, breathing people would while away the years, one generation succeeding another, was laughable. Whoever was sent would have to be frozen in suspended animation.

A key assumption was that the "payload" should be very light. Hundreds or even dozens of frozen people were out of the question. The solution was to send a single frozen boy and frozen girl. They would need nothing on the journey -- space would do a fine job of keeping them frozen without active refrigeration.

The precious pounds beyond the bodies of the boy and girl themselves were allocated to what might help them to survive and expand on a new world.

One of the easiest things to include was a massive compilation of human knowledge, including instructions for a variety of paths to re-establishing civilization. Just how do you go from a series of metal ores to a digital computer? The steps along the way would be far more direct than what humans had taken to get there, but they were still very complicated.

Similarly, the computers running the artificial intelligence to make all decisions were light enough. A tiny computer would blip to life every thousand years for a few seconds to monitor progress, and could stay active for a little longer if any course corrections were required.

Intensive research was performed on what age of children to send. Smaller ones were lighter, of course. But this intrepid boy and girl might have to do a lot of creative thinking. It turned out that puberty was the right age. Abstract thinking was well established, and the sex hormones engendered a will to live that younger children just didn't possess. The boys and girls were carefully screened to be the healthiest, smartest, and most creative young people on the planet -- and to have a fierce determination to live.

A very challenging problem was how to put a person in suspended animation for a million years.

The most promising approaches involved reducing the fluid in the body substantially and augmenting it with chemicals that minimized damage from the expansion of water as it freezes.

Countless studies had been performed with tissues and animals. Science had reached the point where you could freeze a rat and when you thawed it, it still looked and acted like a rat. Once certain doom from the absence of rainfall was established, studies began with humans. They started with the terminally ill, but ended with thousands of child "volunteers". The challenge was to not just thaw a frozen body to produce something that looked and acted like a person, it was to preserve a brain that could function at peak capacity in every respect, to support human ingenuity to overcome unknown challenges. In the experiments, most of the child subjects ended up with different varieties and degrees of brain damage, but it couldn't be helped. The scientists eventually found what they thought was a pretty good protocol. Of course no one had been able to test it for even ten years, let alone a million.

Huge space stations had been constructed. Untold tons of metal, plastic and fuel had been lifted into orbit and assembled into ships. The hundreds of ships had been loaded with their pairs of frozen thirteen-year-olds and hurled into space.

With all that, most thoughtful scientists believed that the chances of success were effectively zero. The colonists would need to find not just a planet suitable for life, but one suitable for human life, with breathable air, livable temperatures, and soil that could support plants that humans could eat. Predators and parasites would have to be manageable. "Predators" might well include other intelligent species.

The best chance of survival was that a ship would encounter an existing advanced civilization. They might intercept the little spaceship and decide to thaw the humans and see what they had found. They might decide to let them reproduce and build up a population. These humans might end up as experimental subjects or slaves. The status of 'exotic pet 'was thought to be a fairly optimistic outcome. The chances of humans being allowed to develop an autonomous civilization and control their own destiny seemed very remote.

If the ship's computer determined that a planet was not suitable for human habitation, it would be programmed to park in orbit and wait. As millions of years passed, there was a chance that some civilization would rise, or some other starfaring species would visit. Hard-headed scientists agreed that this was the best hope of human survival -- though the chances still seemed very slim.

Sixteen-year-old Donna seemed to burst around the corner of the porch where I was resting intertwined with Sophie, age nineteen, having just given her a fine orgasm while gracing her innards with my cum.

Donna was flushed from exertion, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath.

"It's Gina! ... Broke her leg! ... Acts real sick! ... Needs you! ... Real sick!"

Gina and Donna were two women of five who had set out on an exploration foray far from our little settlement.

Gina had developed the habit of not seeking my attentions for three days at a time. After three days, she felt like she had a bad flu. She reported that the sight of my cock approaching her, and the sensation of seeing it start to glide in made for delicious anticipation. Then when it finally filled her completely, the waves of relief and warmth that coursed through her body were so exquisite as to make the suffering worth it. On her recommendation a couple other girls had tried it -- but they found once to be quite enough.

"Kate says you should ... run to meet them ... says her color is very bad."

This was alarming. Her condition should not be life-threatening after three or even four days, but perhaps the broken leg changed the picture. But one thing was for sure. Kate was a very sensible young woman, and if she said I needed to run to them, I needed to run.

I took a large swig of water. Sophie volunteered to come along, but I chose Molly -- my second oldest daughter and a woman I knew I could count on. Donna gave us directions, but then collapsed with water and fruit to recuperate.

Within two minutes of Donna's arrival I was jogging behind Molly up the path. Within a couple minutes I had to beg Molly to slow down. I wasn't in terrible shape, but I couldn't jog for long stretches, especially uphill.

Molly hollered from time to time, then stopped to listen. An hour after starting out, she heard a faint answering yell. Soon after she slowed our pace to a slow walk.

She paused to whisper in my ear, "You wonderful daddy, you can fuck my pussy any time you want, it's hot and wet and waiting for you." She licked my ear and giggled. My manhood started stirring. She raced ahead a hundred feet, then stood on one foot while putting the other up against a tree. Her outer pussy lips opened a little in that position, and she used her fingers to open them the rest of the way, exposing her entire glorious female sexual apparatus. She looked at me with a smoky expression. As I got near she ran ahead a hundred yards, then bent over with her butt facing me, wiggled it back and forth, and drove a finger in and out of her pussy.

My cock was rising, and now I held it in my hand as I walked to keep it from slapping back and forth uncomfortably. We could hear the voices of the other party approaching. Molly knelt on the path with her legs spread, and after massaging her pussy with one hand and a breast with the other, motioned me forward with a smile. As I approached my cock was right at the height of her mouth. She didn't engulf it with her mouth; instead she gave a few artful and teasing licks on the shaft, then on the tip. I was hard by then, and my gut inclination was to shove her against a tree and fuck her standing up. But Molly was engaging in a bait-and-switch operation, hopefully one that would save Gina's life.

Just then the other party appeared around the corner. There were four of them. Gina was currently draped over Maisie's shoulder, the latter girl panting with exertion. Perhaps they had been switching off, for Wendy and Kate also looked plenty tired as well.

They laid the unconscious Gina on the path, unfolding her into a receptive missionary position. Gina's skin was ashen, and I could now see why Kate had had me run to meet her. Kate now slobbered some oil all around Gina's ashen pussy. She wasn't the most appealing sexual partner, but Molly's teasing had had its effect. I lowered myself while the other girls all whispered, "Fuck her, go for it! Do her!" My tip kissed Gina's opening, and then it did what cocks mostly do: It went in. Penetrated. Parted her tissues, intruded, invaded. Farther and farther, until our pubic bones hit and no further inward movement was possible.

Gina twitched. I moved my cock back just the slightest bit before pressing it in hard again and again. Within a minute, Gina progressed from ashen to merely pale, and within another she looked merely very sick. She was out of danger. Meanwhile, Wendy was caressing my balls, and Kate whispered to Molly, "Isn't he magnificent?"

Gina regained consciousness and winced, "My leg!"

The exact configuration of her broken leg had not been of much concern to anyone during the life-saving maneuver. I pulled out and left the others to tend to her.

But I was going to have my original bait. I grabbed Molly, my wily and frisky girl, bent her over, and ignoring her half-hearted protests I bored into her from the rear. I managed a guttural "Unnnnhhhh!" while I erupted within, pulsing whitish goo up inside her teasing cunt.

Back at our settlement, the computer gave us detailed instructions for how to set a broken leg. Even so, Gina's healed slowly. We found a way that I could intrude into her gently every morning and evening to give her what she needed but without bothering her leg too much.

Gina never again went more than a day without my cock if she could help it.

Waking up was horrible. Nightmares lurked in fitful sleep. Struggling to half wakefulness was often rewarded with a wall of pain, and other times something more complex. One tentative foray into consciousness might be met with numbness below the waist, pain in the midsection, ecstasy from somewhere -- left thumb? The next time my right half would be freezing, the left half itching. Then a neutral, tolerable state for several seconds got me to relax a little, but it was immediately squashed with a screaming surge of pain.

Finally I was awake, the pain bearable and consistent. I tried wiggling fingers and flexing toes. It hurt, but not too badly. I tried lifting my head but was rewarded with dizziness and nausea.

Soon I heard a soft computerized voice, "If you can hear me, Nate, wiggle your left fingers."

I wiggled my left fingers.

"Good morning, Nate."

I was disoriented, to say the least.

After several false starts at starting up my speech apparatus I managed to croak, "What the fuck is going on?"

The computer then explained the situation, and as it talked, my memories came back. My last memory was feeling cold and pain creeping through me but being unable to move at all.

The computer noted that lying to my left and nearly touching me was a girl named Sue. When I turned slightly, I found that she was dressed in the same nondescript gray body suit that I was. The parts of Sue I could see were not encouraging; she looked like a moldy corpse. I decided to worry about Sue later.

"Where are we?"

"The landing vehicle rests on a beach on a new world. It appears to be suitable for human habitation."

"How long have we been traveling?"

"About three million, four hundred thousand years."

Whoa! That made my dizzy for a moment. No wonder it had been hard to wake up. It had been quite a long nap.

Sue and I shared a space just high enough for me to turn onto my side.

"Computer, I'd really like to get out of here. Can I go outside?"

"Yes, you may, at any time. It is unfortunate that your first experience of this new world will be while you are also reclaiming use of your body. You will see an earpiece to your left, and if you wear it we will be able to continue our conversation as you explore. Be sure to remove the intravenous tubes first."

The computer opened a door at my feet, and fresh, strange air wafted in. After I wriggled free of the ship, I spent some time stretching and catching my breath. The air smelled funny, and the sun was a bit larger than the earth's and reddish. There was noticeably less gravity, a blessing as I slowly regained my strength. The ocean looked just like the ones on earth.

Through my pain and grogginess, I realized that it was a very pleasant place. The temperature was about 75. Strange-looking but majestic trees were visible, a few of the groves reaching down to the edge of the beach. There were a wide variety of waist-high plants in other places, and in some areas there were wide expanses of grass.

Following the computer's instructions, I removed a section of the outer hull to reveal a wall with many useful things, including a keyboard and computer display, and a chemical analyzer with several openings. Before long, the computer had me collecting samples of ocean water, sand, soil, and leaves, putting them, one by one, into the slots for analysis. Then it directed me to a small stream a hundred yards away, explaining that this landing site had been chosen with that in mind. Once the computer analyzed a cupful of water from the stream, it suggested I drink.

Once I started drinking, I realized how very thirsty I was. I filled the cup and drained it over and over. I then started urinating, then drank more and urinated more, over and over. My body was flushing out the chemicals that had allowed it to remain undamaged while frozen.

I discarded my gray body suit and bathed in the sea, noting first that my skin looked better than Sue's, but still pretty sickly.

The computer noted that there was no significant ultraviolet radiation penetrating the atmosphere, so sunburn was not a problem.

I then brought the computer a seemingly endless set of samples to analyze, including root, stem, and leaf of the great variety of plants. Many of them had fruit, and the computer reported that they should all be edible. I sampled them and found that some were delicious.

Dotted across the grassy expanses were cute little furry animals the size of rabbits, but they moved slowly and showed no sign of fear. I simply picked one up. After dispatching it with a knife, I dissected it and fed the parts to the computer. The meat was edible raw, and quite tasty. They turned out to be the only critters in our part of the planet bigger than bugs. They would naturally become known as bunnies.

The overall verdict was that this planet was a benign place. At the microscopic level, evolution was much less advanced than on earth, meaning there were no bacteria, fungi, viruses, or parasites that would be troublesome to human systems. Bugs and plants were no more troublesome, nor were the bunnies.

I explored all day. After experiencing the paradise outside, the inside of the ship was claustrophobic and depressing. At the computer's suggestion I unfolded a rectangle the size of a pack of playing cards into a tent with a fine mesh that let the breezes through, and I slept there on an air mattress that expanded from a pack the size of a memory stick.

I occasionally wriggled back into the compartment I had emerged from to check on Sue. She always looked the same.

"Is she going to wake up?" I asked the computer.

"She started thawing when you did, but she is not waking up as easily, as you can see."

"Yeah, I can see."

After my second day of exploring, I considered what life would be like if Sue didn't wake up. I could gallivant about for my allotted years. I would be lonely, but more to the point, the human race on this planet would die when I did.

The computer projected for me some pictures and movies of Sue, and something stirred in me. She had been a pretty girl with a quick smile, smart and accomplished. She had potential, but for the moment she looked like a corpse and smelled little better.

"What's wrong with her, computer?"

"Physically she seems fine, and her brain waves are normal, but she is not waking up."

"I don't blame her. It was awful."

"Could you say more?"

"Every time I started to become conscious, it hurt, and going back to sleep made the pain go away."

"Perhaps you could convince her to wake up?"

That was a strange thought. "You think she can hear me?"

"It seems possible, though I am uncertain."

It was worth a try.

I wriggled in beside her. "Hey Sue, wake up! It's cool here!"

No response.

"Sue, it's going to be pretty lonely here without you, so you ought to wake up!"

No response.

This might take some time, but I had plenty of time.

"Hi, Sue. My name is Nate, and I'm thirteen years old, just like you. I can see you're beautiful." I was remembering the movie when I said that, not the Sue in front of me.

"We're here all alone, just the two of us, in a new place. It's like a spring day outside, with sunshine and a gentle breeze. We're washed up on a beautiful white beach. There are trees with delicious fruit -- all we need to do is pick it and eat it. There is a rolling meadow, and these really cute little bunnies that munch on the grass."

I thought maybe Sue was a vegetarian, like lots of 13-year-old girls, so I omitted for the moment how good they tasted.

"The whole place is for us, just you and me."

Sue seemed to stir a little. I thought I saw her left eye open to a slit, momentarily, but her face grimaced with pain and she lapsed back into unconsciousness. I made a note to spruce up my appearance. It would be no good for the dear girl to awaken momentarily, behold an ugly tramp and decide to keep sleeping forever.

"I know it hurts, Sue. It hurt me too when I was waking up. But every time it hurts a little less."

The day passed and she slept on. I got increasingly anxious.

I couldn't say I was actually in love with Sue, but I was in love with the idea of a companion, and distraught at the thought of losing her.

The language of love came to me. My friends would have snickered, but they were long dead. Very long dead.

"I want to hear your voice, Sue. I want to hear everything you have to say. I want to learn all about you, every silly little memory you have.

"Did you have any pets?

"You know," I said, sounding suitably humble, "I'm a pretty cool guy myself once you get to know me."

Sue twitched a bit.

"I'm a boy, and you're a girl, and maybe after a while we could, um..." I remembered that girls liked to be slower and more indirect about these things, so I abandoned that line of conversation -- make that monologue.

"I could be your boyfriend, and I swear I would never dump you for another girl." I didn't know if she could get humor in her sleep, but if nothing else I needed to keep a light tone for myself.

"I want to hold your hand and walk on the beach. It's a beautiful beach. The little purple berries are delicious. They taste like raspberry mixed with pear.

"Can I read you some poetry, Sue?

I actually knew one poem, though I figured the computer could give me reams of others to choose from.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds, Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds. Or bends with the remover to remove..."

Glancing at the splotchy, gray thing in front of me, I was actually counting on some alteration.

"I want to stroke your cheek gently with the back of my hand, walk arm in arm, feel you leaning up against me. Maybe some day you'll let me kiss you. I'd like that a lot, if you would."

Sue twitched, and opened her eyes, and she looked at me! Best of all, the faintest smile crossed her lips.

My heart soared!

It took another six hours of love poetry and romantic talk before she crossed an important line. She became determined to wake up for herself, to live. I dropped the romance and became merely friendly and encouraging.

The videos the computer had shown me were of a sweet and kind little girl, but Sue had another side to her. She cursed fluently and with considerable creativity at the pain. I listened and sympathized, and even offered a suggestion or two.

"Computer, what happened to all of the other spaceships that got sent out?"

"We will never know, because the distances are too great."

"But it's possible that other boys and girls survived on other planets?"

"It is possible, but the scientists felt that the probability of success of any mission was close to zero. They estimated that the chances of our success in landing here on a hospitable planet were with optimistic assumptions one in a billion."

"You mean they felt my chances of ever waking up again were one in a billion?"

"At best."

"Funny they never told me that." I thought a moment.

"So, Sue and I are all there is?"

"You are almost certainly the only two humans in the universe."

It was almost always the younger ones who caused mischief, so I was surprised to find thirty-year-old Roberta wiggling her butt at me as it half-showed through her grass skirt. We were working on a thatch assembly that would be part of the roof of a new hut.

She turned and directed her silky voice at my ear. "Daddy, I miss your cock so much. My pussy is wet and gooey and it won't be happy until you shove it full of your cock. You gotta do me like a bunny, daddy. Please? Pweeeze?"

My cock was ready. Roberta wasn't due for a fuck until that evening, but she wanted it. And I wanted to give it to her. She was one of Sue's daughters, and she had already borne eleven children of mine. What the heck ... Within seconds of my implicit assent, Roberta was on her hands and knees in the classic bunny way, butt up, head down. My cock slid into her up to the hilt. She gave the characteristic sigh that most of my girls do when I fill them all the way. Roberta's cunt was hot, my manhood was aroused, and I wanted to fill her in the other way, too. I knew I owed it to the other four girls I was working with to do them too, to fill them with my cock while it was still hard. I really did. But sometimes I don't do just what I'm supposed to do. I let myself go, pumping Roberta with a frenzy.

"Oh, Roberta!" I lunged, I surged, my brain fogged over, and I shot the young woman full of my sperm. She waited to receive all I had to give before separating. She then turned to face me. Both on our knees, she gave me a tender hug.

The other girls undoubtedly felt a bit disappointed, but they were good-natured about it. "It's cool to watch you just go for it, sometimes, dad," said Emma, age 20.

But as work continued they kept squirming around and massaging their pussies. One self-indulgent episode led to another, and in half an hour I was surging inside each of my other three, pressing deep to make each one sigh. I had them all lie on their sides as I knelt above them, holding their upper leg like a post while fucking into their pussies sideways.

I would get back to the schedule after supper, I figured.

The ship had some extra gray outfits. I had quickly ditched the one I had been wearing for three million years. When Sue staggered out for the first time, she ignored my suggestion to go to the stream. She went straight to the ocean to bathe, taking a fresh suit with her. I turned my back. The Sue who came back was still bedraggled-looking, but all traces of the corpse look had been washed away, and I could see she had potential. Then she went to the stream. Perhaps it was a bit of relief to her to know in advance about the cycle of seemingly endless drinking and peeing she was about to engage in. Of course, her peeing would be done squatting, which aroused in me the lightest flicker of excitement, and it would be done without me present. She returned to her pre-freeze vibrancy and health within a couple days.