Male arousal would be more challenging in space, though it could still technically be possible" – Millis

"Vaginal wetness could be an issue as the fluid - like sweat and tears - will tend to pool at the location of secretion in the absence of gravity. This wouldn't inhibit arousal necessarily, but I imagine it would be uncomfortable/unpleasant" – Millis

“This is a problem when you have sex, because your heart rate rapidly increases and you breathe more heavily. If you're not used to this, your body will become tired very quickly” - Noonan.

"Every push or thrust will propel the astronaut in the opposite direction. Imagine a pair of ice skaters standing on fresh ice. If they were to push their hands against one another, they would each shoot backwards away from each other. Astronauts would have to be properly anchored, not only to the space station itself, but also to each other. This makes the mechanics of the sex act difficult and probably somewhat awkward" - Millis

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Conestoga’s hold is cavernous, dark shadows push across the floor and walls, still and sterile under the patchy lighting. Cold steel, glistening with condensation, created small streams of water that dripped and gurgled gently into the drains provided. It was cold, with minimal heating, icy fingers reaching in from the vacuum of space beyond the thick walls.

By far, the biggest section of the ship, it housed many large shipping containers, stacked nearly to the ceiling on one side of the hold. Each container was twelve metres long, roughly two and a half metres across and high, twelve containers across, stacked five high, with yet another layer behind them. They held everything needed by the ship from toilet paper to replacement engines for Conestoga. There were no places to stop off for supplies out beyond Uranus, every requirement must be met by the contents of this hold and the wits of the crew.

Across the monolithic face of the container stack a patchwork of colours blended with the shadows in a camouflage effect that made the steel edifice something more felt than seen the higher you looked. However, on the bottom right-hand corner, one container sat in marked contrast to those around it. It was the only one painted purple for starters, an almost lurid purple at that. It was also one of only three containers where the doors that formed the end of the container were heavily padlocked. Mounted high on the left door, a light bulb was affixed. It appeared to be an ordinary light bulb, but someone had coloured over the glass with a red felt-tip pen. At the moment it was off.

A man was trying to get the padlocks off with numbed, shaking fingers. Paradoxically, despite the thick gloves and thermal jacket he wore, from the waist down he had on only underwear and socks. As he worked at the locks, he hopped irregularly from one foot to the other. Slightly, behind him, with a mouth clamped tight shut, probably to stop herself from giving voice to the need for speed insisted on by the freezing hold, stood a woman. Similarly clad, but her underwear was much smaller and thinner than his, while she lacked socks completely. Consequently, her hopping was more pronounced, faster, and accompanied by the rhythm of her slapping her arms repeated to her sides in the interests of warmth and circulation.

Finally with a clatter, the padlock was removed and hung on the face of the door. With a crash the locking handles were thrown back. The man looked over his shoulder, smiling broadly at the woman waiting behind him, before hauling back on the heavy door. It opened stiffly, but surprisingly was silent. Whatever minute sound was hidden in the low background hum, a sound common to all areas of the ship, but long since subconsciously filtered out by those aboard.

Moving quickly inside the man began flicking switches while the woman moved to the rear of the container to start a fan heater set in the wall. Once lights were set, including the red one on the outer door, and the heater warming up steadily, they met in an embrace in the centre of the small room. Holding each other tightly, they slowly moved hands over each other’s bodies, both for warmth and the faint beginnings of pleasure. Slowly, the shivering subsided as the heater moved warm air gently around them.

Disengaging they removed their final pieces of clothing; the man placed them in a locker by the entranceway. Then he turned and flicked a large switch on the panel. Instantly a whooshing sound like water through a pipe could be heard faintly. In the centre of the room, a small orb the size of a basketball lowered itself from the ceiling. It took only a few seconds for it to be up to speed, but no change could be detected yet. The man peered at the dial on the wall, it was holding steady at one atmosphere. He glanced over at the woman.

“You ready?” he inquired, getting a nod in response.

Slowly, he began turning the dial to the left toward zero. The feeling on their bodies as the effects of artificial gravity quickly bled away was always fun. The muscles of their bodies had been countering gravity, so now as that force dissipated, they quietly pushed them off the deck as they began to float, drifting slowly in the air currents created by the heating unit at one end.

The man, grasped a handrail above the panel to keep himself in place as he set up. The women, slowly began to rotate and propel herself gently through the air with languid waving of her arms. Her large breasts seem to trail slowly behind the movements of her body, at times stretching out taut, until a fresh turn or twist pulled them close again. The gentle undulation of her skin as she moved was mesmerising, the zero-gravity giving grace and flow to movement as she pirouetted slowly through the air. The man watched, still grasping the handrail as the air currents stirred and pushed at him.

Watching her, he turned another dial, slowly music began to drift into focus through hidden speakers. Choral music, by Palestrina, reached out from the mid-16th century, turning her languid movements into something of an artwork. Her twists and turns fell into rhythm of the music, so that he felt he could just watch her, but he was eager to continue, despite the glorious poetry of motion holding him entranced.

With a final glance at the panel before him, he was assured that the small unit was working at its task, nullifying the effects of Conestoga’s larger main gravity unit, interacting with the harmonic of the weak nuclear force to produce a new field local to the interior of this particular container. Moving away, he lowered a large padded curtain from the ceiling and tied it down, cutting off the first metre of the entrance, shielding their floating bodies from the sharp contours of the control panel and entrance.

Slowly, one hand grabbing convenient holds to propel himself along, he moved around each side of the container, stopping occasionally to awkwardly pull down more of the padded curtains and fasten them in place. As he moved, he watched her dancing slowly on the breeze, every now and then pushing herself away from walls as she drifted around the room. He watched her relaxed face; her closed eyes and tranquil smile showed her comfort and enjoyment.

Completing his circuit of the converted container, the padding was all in pace, protecting them from the cold hard surface of the container walls. With legs bunched beneath him, he prepared for launch to her. He watched her for a moment before calling out to her.

“Hey! You with the celestial body, want to join the three-billion-kilometre-high club?”

She opened her eyes from her reverie, found herself facing the wrong way, so waited while her body rotated in space, placing a single finger on the wall to stop her motion once she faced him. They found themselves placed at each end of the container. She smiled mischievously and pushed solidly away from the wall behind her with a sudden thrust of her legs. Anticipating her, he did the same.

Both instantly realised this was a mistake. No gravity equates to no friction to slow things down. It was immediately apparent that they were flying together at a rate that might be a little foolhardy. Unfortunately, over the short distance inside the container there was barely enough time to register this fact before bodies came together. Imperfect grips made hands barely find each other before bursting apart again. Their speed coming together meant the brief instant of connection made them spin 180 degrees so that when they burst apart again, they hurtled back the way they had come. Both managed to cushion the impact into the pads, so no damage was done, and they laughed at their first ill-thought-out attempt.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” she said eventually, rubbing one elbow.

“Maybe a little less oomph,” he agreed. He was rubbing a knee and smiling ruefully.

This time they both made sure they gave the barest impulse they could, and pleasingly, they both drifted toward each other at a much less formidable pace. Coming together in the middle of the container was much more manageable this time. Their naked bodies came together, entwined and began to spin as their momentum met and combined.

Like this, they kissed. Each passionate locking of their lips providing new sensations to explore as weightlessness made things different. Outside this room, their lips locked into each other, pressed together, breaking the seal finally by choice, but not here. Now, while lips met naturally enough, they both had pull each other physically, hands firmly on shoulders to create enough pressure to match their passion. They found they couldn’t sustain it, the physical effort in neck, shoulders and arms proved too much, unnatural almost. It took focus away from the moment, and eventually, little cramps and twitches formed. They relaxed and pushed apart from each other. At arm’s length, hand in hand, they watched each other as they floated.

“This might….” He began.

“…be a little more challenging than we thought?” she finished.

“Yeah.” He said thoughtfully. “I guess we’ll get used to it.”

Reaching down, she placed a firm hand around his very firm shaft. She smiled up at him.

“You seem to be enjoying it well enough,” she said impishly, as she began to move her hand slowly up and down on him. At least she tried to. She sound found that if she held with any sort of grip, all she did was push him bodily away. Weightlessness meant there was nothing for the force of her movements to act on, and his body moved no matter how much he willed it otherwise. She gave up, released him with a small giggle.

He tried bending down, but instead lifted her up physically through the air. Or did he push himself down, he didn’t stop to work it out, but as soon as his face was level with her breast, he clamped his lips over it, sucking hard to keep in place. Holding his mouth in place with suction, he carefully traced the tip of his tongue over the nipple inside his mouth. Finally, something seemed to work, as a long quiet moan escaped her lips. He took his time, tracing different patterns, up, down and around the hardening nipple.

“Oh, that’s good…. Keep going right there…,” she moaned gently in his ear, but already he was running into difficulty. Using suction to keep himself in place was pulling him firmly into her large, pliant breast. As it floated freely, it actually pressed into his face, making it hard to breathe, so eventually he had to stop, placing his hands on her hips to push himself away. As they began to drift slowly apart, he reached out and took each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger.

As he continued his drift, her breasts slowly straightened out, as did his arms. She unconsciously bit down slightly on her lip in anticipation of the moment they reached their limit. Unsure of what feeling that moment would invoke, she tensed slightly. The moment arrived first for her right breast, for brief moment the grip held, then both thumb and forefinger slid rapidly along the shaft of the nipple, and release suddenly with a little “plop” that was felt rather than heard.

The sudden pressure and release made her gasp slightly, but with him the sudden loss of grip with his left hand, caused an immediate reaction from the other. Without even realising, it happened in an instant, the forefinger and thumb of his right hand, increased their pressure, arresting the similar slide that already started along the short projection of the aroused nipple.

She gave a little squeal of delight as the breast, his body and especially her nipple reached the limit of their elasticity. For a brief shift of time, he hung there his arm fully outstretched to the equally taut breast. Then like elastic, the stretch rebounded, pulling them together rapidly but safely enough.

“Ooof,” she said, rubbing at her right breast, the pinch marks from his fingers showing clearly alongside the nipple. Her smile held no recrimination, and her eyes glittered as she gazed into his, excited, craving the physical attention even more.

“Again!” she cried.

Reaching up, he again took hold of both nipples firmly, then carefully he placed both his feet flat against her stomach. He straightened his legs pushing her away. There was the briefest pause in her movement as the breasts straightened again, but this time both grips slid from her as she let go another delighted squeal. She tumbled away from him like a gymnast tumbling through her routine. Her grin said it all, this was new and she was enjoying it. Reaching the end of the container, she skilfully planted legs against the pad, and pushed herself slowly back towards him.

Her aim wasn’t true, and she would have passed left of him, but thrusting out a hand she grasped his erect penis in a tight grip. Holding on doggedly as this anchor point cause her to spin around him as he pivoted in space. Slowly as they spun, she took hand holds of leg, then buttock, then hips to position herself carefully. She smiled up at him and then took him carefully into her mouth. There she found that it was difficult to push herself down the length of his shaft, she actually had to place her hands carefully and physically pull herself down.

Once there, getting back off presented a new challenge. In order to withdraw back of the rigid phallus, she had to place her hands on his hips alongside the penis and push. She nearly pushed herself off completely, and made a desperate reach round his back again, so that she could pull herself back down. It was awkward, but it worked. Grab, pull, release, push, grab, pull… she started to find some sort of rhythm and he groaned slightly as her lips teased his shaft and tip.

They stayed like this for a while, her controlling things, occasionally reaching out with a finger to push off from an approaching wall. Him slightly arched, eyes closed, letting her control pace and movement as he relaxed into the moment. Eventually, here too, they had to stop not through choice, but because it was a lot harder than it looked; jaws and shoulders began to ache slightly as she eventually pushed herself off him. They embraced as they slowly floated the length of the container bodies locked together while they rested for a moment.

“Its harder than I thought it would be,” she whispered as her lips nuzzled at his ear.

“I think we’ll work it out,” he said back. “Should be worth it. Definitely feels a little different.”

“For sure,” she said. Adding, “Practise makes perfect.”

“And one should always strive for perfection,’ he added in turn. “Carnagie Hall. Ready for the final act?”

“I think so,” she responded instantly. “Have you worked out how?”

“Not really, but I think we’ll manage,” he said, somewhat doubtfully she thought, observing a slight frown on his brow.

With a little difficulty, they managed to adjust themselves, with some pushing, some pulling and some huffing, into position so that the tip of his penis rested on her labia majora. With a solid thrust he attempted to enter her, but after the first couple of millimetres he achieved no penetration and simply pushed her lower body away from his yearning erection.

“Oh,” he said simply in disappointment. “Um, can you put your feet behind me so I have something to anchor against maybe?”

She complied, but as he repeated his thrust, she drew him closer with her feet, gaining enough purchase that he slid steadily deeper into her. Then as their bodies met, as close as they could possibly be, they discovered a new problem. He went to withdraw on the backstroke, but his penis was not released, so his movement just pulled her body along with his. Again, he had to shift his hands down to her hips and physically push himself out, swiftly changing his grip to stop before coming out of her completely. She had responded to his movements, by holding her fleet more firmly behind him, helping him come to a stop. Then he quicky thrust forward again, using his hands, and her feet to smoothly draw himself in. They continued slowly, getting used to the rhythm, adjusting quicky to fresh movements.

Soon pleasure took over, the slightly jerky pace of thrust and withdrawal faltering occasionally as sensations began to assault them. They kept things slow and steady, which was a little hard, normally, he would be getting faster at this point, finding familiar rhythms. This slowed the build up for both of them, but slowly both mastered the synchronisation, and both began to make sounds that heralded the arriving climax. His breath began to come in ever more ragged gasps, she whimpered a little, moaning gently as she closed her eyes tightly. Both recognised altered sensations, the different physical requirements that no gravity brought to them. Different, but just as good, to satisfy the most ardent hedonist.

Slow and steady, in and out, they built steadily to the moment. He, so focussed on timing, grips and coordinating movement, found holding on easier. He waited for her, keeping up a regular cadence to their movements. As she approached orgasm, her grip tightened, as her nails slowly bit into his skin. She buried her head into his chest without missing any of the necessary adjustments to keep their movement constant. Recognising that she was approaching the apogee of her pleasure, he slowly relaxed and began to let himself go as well.

Slowly, her moans increased in volume and he could feel her distraction in her movements and took more control with his hands lest they break apart at the wrong moment, letting her abandon herself to her pleasure. When he felt the first twitching of her orgasm, he too let himself go finally, and two deeply penetrating thrusts later they both came. Her loudly, crying out her excitement after the long buildup. He insistently, quickly, coming with her with one long drawn-out cry of passion.

On Earth, or even in their cabin far forward on Conestoga, they would have, at this moment, collapsed apart, withdrawing and lying beside each other, arms reaching for each other in satisfaction of the moment. Here, they slowly, rotated in space, floating in the air, embracing tightly as he slowly softened and withered inside her. He kissed her gently on the neck, as she arched her head back for him. They stayed like that for a while, just floating together, recovering strength, and assimilation the new experiences they had just had.

Finally, she raised contented eyes to his. “So,” she whispered, “the three-billion-mile-high club? We’re the first?”

“Kilometres. Three-billion-kilometre-high club,” he corrected. Adding, “actually it would be about three point two billion by now, but what’s a couple of million kilometres between friends.”

“Indeed,” she said resting her head on his chest.

“And yes, we are definitely the first.”