EXILE

Fine droplets of blood welled up from the scratches in Roger’s back as he slid his full length into her, her arousal as strong as her response. He swiftly lost his sense of self in her moist warmth, feeling as if they were one, welded ever more strongly with every movement. He moved gently but firmly inside her, his thighs wrapped by her strong legs and his body by her arms, and those nails. After the first, hurried plunge, the two soon found each other’s own rhythm, and as they floated in space, with no gravity to pull them down, they made their own gravity, two bodies in space bound together by an irresistible attraction. As Roger moved within, she responded in kind, pushing her pelvis against him, increasing the depth of their passion.

The simple harmony of the motion of the two bodies increased in intensity, her back arching as she strained to surround him totally. His powerful arms held her close to him, his broad hands cupping her small, round buttocks in a grip that would not release her until it was over. Soon, their movements became harder, firmer, more strained, faster until there were no longer two people, but a single being, the exploding energy of a mutual passion ignited.

Resting in the afterglow, they relaxed, holding each other close, neither speaking. Around them floated the debris - odd pieces of clothing, Roger’s small kitbag, a fine spray of his blood. As they watched, the droplets one by one disappeared, sucked out by the ventilation system. The air in the hub was a pleasant twenty degrees, maintained at this temperature constantly. Neither Roger nor Gail felt any urge to move or to dress. Pleasantly together, they floated.

“I didn’t think you were serious about me.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the brightest point in my life.”

“A pilot like yourself? Get away!” Gail gave him a playful nudge in the ribs.

“No, I mean it. I’m actually battling a public image, Gail. I’m not a playboy, just a regular guy. Seems most women don’t see it that way.”

“And I do?”

“I think so... hope so!”

“So, flyboy, if I’m your dream girl, and you’re my Mister Right, what next?”

“Can’t say for sure, but I’m certain that it’s together.” He leant over and pecked her on the cheek. “Just so long as you’re in whatever port I drop anchor in.”

She turned. “And how many ports are those?”

“Just the one, dirtside.”

“Chicago?”

“Yup,” he continued. “And possibly every station.”

“What? I could never see you for months!”

“Unless...there is one way,” he replied, thinking aloud more than not. Gail near spun in her response, her wavy auburn hair streaking around like a berserk halo around her head, accenting her tempestuous nature.

“Which is?” she demanded.

“Well,” Roger started slowly, stringing her along, “if I was to request permanent CSA duty, I’ll always fly to this platform, as it is the only remand facility for the lunar colonies.”

“Is that what you flew today? The prison detail?”

“Yeah. Nothing different from any other flight, really. And you know the platforms. Fly to one, fly to them all. There’s no difference in flight routine.”

“How many convicts did you fly up?”

“The regular. Four and their guard.”

“Poor guys. Do you know what any of them were charged with?”

“A bit. It’s all listed on the passenger manifesto given to me before each flight. Usually, these are the people not bad enough to be executed, but not nice enough to be wanted on Earth.”

“Are they all, you know, really mean?” Gail had forgotten about how their conversation began - her curiosity, as insatiable as her desire for Roger Reczeski, had taken over as they floated, naked in each other’s arms, in the axial hub cabin that Roger preferred to the gravity bulbs. Whenever he was asked, Roger’s excuse was that the rotary motion that created the gravity made him seasick whenever he looked out of a window. Gail was sure herself why he preferred zero gravity - the sex was better.

“Uh, no, actually. On the whole, they’re just people who have highly pissed off the government, and are considered to be enemies of the State.”

“Shit deal!”

“Yeah. As it happens, one of the cons today was that Stein guy. You know, the CSA tried to pin him with the Spaceport shootings.”

“Except that they had already arrested him!”

“That’s the one. Anyway, his trial was yesterday. From what I can gather, they couldn’t make that one stick, but implicated him enough to warrant deportation.’

“What a break, huh?”

“He’s alive, and that counts.”

“Where is he now?”

“Within a couple of hundred metres of us, now. He and his mates are in the remand unit, at the other end from the docking axis. If for some reason they broke out, the whole unit could be jettisoned safely without the risk of collision with other platform units.”

“Clever. Did you think of it?” she asked cheekily.

“As if.”

“How many convicts are out there?”

“Questions, questions! Anywhere up to twenty six. That’s why they need so many dietitians.”

“Other from giving you something to eat?”

“Well...you’re particularly nice.”

“One more. How long are they there for?” As she spoke, she idly began to play with him. There’s life yet, she thought, as she felt an immediate response as he began to harden in her palm.

“Varies - the colony lets the Quartermaster know how many they need, and what skills. Some are here for weeks, others only days. but does that matter?”

“I guess not!” As she spoke, she grabbed his now-hard member, rolling onto him as they floated, pulling him into her with the speed and agility of a lynx. He didn’t object, couldn’t, as she gripped him all around and planted her thin, yet comfortable lips fully onto his.