Souled Out by C.E. Gee
A spirit roamed the surface of Mars. Sometimes diverted by boulders or steep-sided dunes, the spirit otherwise flowed easily over sand and smaller rocks that typified surface features of that most venerable of planets.
The spirit had been wandering for many millennium. And though it possessed nothing resembling the sensory organs or conscious perceptiveness of living beings, in its own way the spirit was aware of the constraints imposed upon it by material reality.
But though bound by the physical plane, the spirit was not of it. And its lack of a physical structure meant it held no memories of its fellow spirits, who long ago had abandoned it to a lonely fate as they themselves regressed their transmigrations to the lowly souls of the dying planet's remaining life forms: microbes and one hardy strain of lichen.
By not surrendering to regression, alone the spirit had kept alive an ancient longing. And now that longing was joined by a presence not sensed in a very long time. Mindlessly driven by a force older than the universe itself, the spirit pushed on toward the presence.
#
The inflatable structure resembled a Quonset hut. Half buried beneath the ochre-colored sands of Mars, its tube-like shape facilitated inclusion of two airlocks, one at each end.
Sandra Nusbaum emerged from the west-facing airlock. Her lissome form was packed tightly into a battered but serviceable Antov model WO-2 spacesuit, the joints of which creaked faintly in the thin atmosphere as the young woman set out for the antenna farm located at Base Camp Bradbury's perimeter. It soon became apparent that Sandra's destination was the antenna farm's communications hut.
Isolated from the rest of the camp to prevent its transmitters from interfering with sensitive scientific instrumentation, the communications hut was both work-place and domicile to Ed Grimm. And because Sandra and Ed were lovers, the small dome had become their own special trysting place, away from the prying eyes of their peers and the disapproving sentiments of their superiors.
Nearing the hut's airlock, Sandra sensed something. She paused, and despite the space suit's awkward rigidity, pivoted gracefully around, searching the surrounding area; no one was in sight. It being dusk, the camp had buttoned up for the night; the only signs of life were yellowish glows of light emanating from viewports and windows of the camp's numerous structures. Sandra tried to shake off a feeling of being watched, but it followed her the rest of her way to the airlock. Before entering the lock, Sandra once again searched about, absolutely sure someone was nearby. Even after sealing herself into the airlock, she still felt the unease.
Entering the communications hut, Sandra removed her helmet, nestling it beneath the crook of her left arm as she carefully picked her way down the narrow central aisle. Abruptly, she called out, "Hey, Ed! Where you at?"
Above the wavering and high-pitched whine emitted by racks of electronic gear came a muffled but emphatic reply: "Over here, babe!" Near one sloping wall was a small cubicle. Constructed of packing cases and equipment cabinets, the cubicle was barely large enough for a couple of sleeping bags, which were deployed as comforters upon a wide but thin air mattress. Ed was sitting cross-legged atop the comforters, sipping dark colored liquid from a plastic cup. He was clad in dark blue boxer shorts and matching tee shirt.
Hoisting the cup in a mock toast, Ed said, "Heard you come in. Hope you don't mind my starting early; gotta be up before dawn tomorrow."
"Oh, I don't think that's a problem at all," replied Sandra, her delicate, elfin-like features enhanced by a sly smile. "Just make sure you save me some -- Okay?" Her eyes, wide-set and so deeply brown as to seem almost black, danced gaily at sight of her lover.
"There's plenty," replied Ed, taking another sip and smacking his lips. "Not bad, if I do say so myself. Yeasty, but the freeze-dried cranberry juice masks the yeast."
Sandra beamed; the cranberry juice addition to Ed's raisin-jack had been her idea. Now that the latest batch of ersatz wine was ready, Sandra intended to make good use of it.
Stripping off the spacesuit, Sandra shyly asked, "Mind if I go pee?"
"It's almost empty," replied Ed, jerking his head toward the far side of the dome. "Hydroponics swapped the holding tank just this morning."
Sandra strode off to the commode; Ed gulped down the dregs of his cup, refilled it, then filled a cup for Sandra. When she returned, Ed offered the cup up to her.
"Thanks," Sandra purred, lowering her supple young form to the mattress, coming to rest cross-legged before her boyfriend. Clad in standard issue long johns, Sandra had not bothered with fitting the urine-tube, so the grommetted gap at the crotch of her quilted undergarment framed an enticing tuft of snatch hair.
Nostrils flaring, Ed hungrily eyed Sandra's nether region, his eager stare focusing in on the exposed tuft. Sandra giggled, then sipped the lukewarm raisin-jack. She too smacked her lips before laughing at both the bold taste of the drink and Ed's obvious lust. "You'll get yours," she teased, stretching out an arm to tousle Ed's unkempt hair. "But let's talk first. It's been a long day and I want to enjoy the booze -- maybe get a buzz on."
Ed took one more gulp, put aside his cup, then stretched out on the mattress, face-up, hands behind his head. A wicked smile came to him. And his now semi-tumescent cock tented the boxer shorts up into an auspicious pyramid.
Sandra scooted across until she sat at Ed's side. She shifted the drink to her left hand, placing her right hand gently atop Ed's muscular thigh. "I thought you wanted to talk first," smirked Ed as Sandra slid her hand up his thigh and through the gaping leg hole of the boxer shorts.
As her slender, sensitive fingers fondled Ed's balls, Sandra coyly asked, "I can't amuse myself while we're talking?"
"Whatever," groaned Ed, his eyes now closed.
Sandra sipped her drink while she fondled Ed's scrotum. His nuts were as big as plums, and Sandra carefully squeezed and felt about them as if she were some produce buyer, astutely gauging the suitability of her next purchase.
Sandra then fell to playfully teasing and plucking the hairs of Ed's crotch, asking, "Anything strange been happening around here?"
"Whaddaya mean?" distractedly replied Ed.
Taking another sip of her drink, Sandra paused in thought, making two tiny vertical furrows between the arches of her neatly plucked eyebrows. "Just before I came through the airlock, I got the distinct feeling I was being watched." Ed snorted. "The way you swing that sweet little behind of yours, it's a wonder the whole friggin' camp wasn't watchin'"
Ignoring the jibe, Sandra complained, "But that's the point; somebody _was_ watching -- I just know it. And when I was sitting on the pot a minute ago, I got that exact same feeling."
"Impossible," Ed snidely proclaimed. "I got transducers connected to both inner and outer airlock hatches. There's no one here but us." Ed abruptly stood; his broad shoulders and alert stance made Sandra feel safe; she was bemused to find she liked the feeling. "Guess I'll check things out," announced Ed. "Then I'll hit the lights."
Sandra nodded, refilling her glass as Ed left the cubicle.
Within a couple of minutes the hut's lights went out. Ed's bedside terminal bathed the cubicle in a soft, diffused glow.
When Ed returned to her, Sandra was naked, beneath the covers, taking one last swig of raisin-jack. She smiled up at her boyfriend as he stood over her, steadying himself on the infirm footing of the air mattress while removing tee shirt and shorts. Ed's cock had gone limp; Sandra greedily licked her lips as she eyed the limber member. In the weak Martian gravity, Ed's schlong swayed sinuously with every movement of his body. Sandra scooted herself even farther down into the protective warmth of the sleeping bags as she tipsily anticipated the reaming she was about to receive.
Ed slid into bed next to her. "Want the light off this time?"
"Yes. Please."
The instant the terminal went black they reached for one another, rolling onto their sides, pressing the lengths of their warm bodies together in a crush of awkward but eager intimacy. Their lips met, and they kissed as new lovers often kiss: with an eagerness and passion that overwhelmed their shy tenderness.
Ed slid his hand over the smooth, unblemished, and delightfully formed curves of Sandra's ass. Tenderly, he caressed the bewitching butt, his fingers lightly stroking the soft skin. The fingertip of his middle finger came to rest at the top of the graceful slit separating Sandra's ass cheeks. Sandra broke the kiss, pushing slightly away from Ed as she imploringly whispered, "Kiss my titties first. Please? It always gets me so excited."
Ed forsook Sandra's backdoor, sliding down beneath the covers so that his face came even with her small but alluringly taut tits. Though the breasts themselves were each barely a mouthful, they were capped with uncommonly large nipples, stiffly pouting wanton desire, as if consciously seeking Ed's warm and wet mouth.
Ed's lips searched out a nipple; his tongue licking and probing back and forth over the firm little tower of erectile tissue; teasing it with quick flicks, pushing it this way and that.
Finally, desire urging more forceful action, Ed covered most of the teat's fleshy mound with his hungry mouth, slickening its smooth surface with saliva, sliding his lips up toward the now quivering nipple, sucking with such force that the nipple swelled outward even more, becoming so swollen with Sandra's hot blood that it became almost painfully rigid.
"Don't forget the other one," moaned Sandra, her fingers entangling themselves in Ed's hair as she pointedly pushed his head toward her other breast.
"Mmmmph," grunted Ed as his lips found the enticing prize. Kissing and licking and sucking Sandra's titties kept Ed's hands free to roam. The young lovers were becoming familiar with the ways of love and the wants of each other; and rolling onto her back, Sandra spread her legs, bending her knees slightly, anticipating Ed's eager explorations as his fingers began to stroke the soft but tightly curled hairs of her pussy. The glistening crack seemingly begged attention as Ed slid his middle finger the entire length of it, easing deeper as the rude digit felt out moist charms. This time it was Sandra's turn to grunt her pleasure; and as she did so, Ed slowly shoved the questing finger to the hilt, pausing only when the width of his hand allowed no further progress. Sandra whispered, "Oh gawd, that feels so wonderful." She fumbled for Ed's cock, daintily wrapping her fingers around the throbbing shaft, greedily pulling him toward her as she needlessly kneaded the already swollen organ.
Fueled by alcohol, Sandra's youthful enthusiasm would brook no further delay. "I want you in me," she breathily commanded. Ed reached to the side, his fingers feeling out the floor near the edge of the air mattress, searching for the condom he'd placed there earlier.
Sandra leaned across her lover, grabbing his wrist. "This time," she whispered horsely, "I want it to be just you. Okay?"
In a not-so-sure voice, Ed asked, "Really?"
"It'll be fine," assured Sandra. "Just this once. I feel special tonight."
His thick cock oozing precum, Ed needed no other impetus. Against the weak Martian gravity, it was scarcely an effort to roll atop Sandra's sylphlike form. Driven by lust, youthfully impatient, Ed eased his swollen cockhead up against Sandra's dripping slit, rocking his hips slightly so that the tip of his organ forced its passage between the velvety charms of his consort's cunt-lips. Sandra moaned with a plaintive yearning, a yearning that called forth ancient and instinctual responses from her lover. Without pause, Ed inched his swollen dong deeper and deeper into Sandra's welcoming breech. Her excited gasps accompanied the ponderous insertion of the stiff rod; and when it could go in no further, when their pubic hairs intertwined to a soft cushion of mammalian down, the two lovers kissed again.
Softly, but with growing urgency, their wet lips slid greedily across one another's, even as Ed inched his member slowly outward, savoring the grip of Sandra's tight twat. Once the fringe of Ed's glans emerged from Sandra's glory hole, Ed reversed direction, again plumbing the depths of the young woman's hungering form.
Her mouth only inches away from Ed's ear, Sandra whispered, "Go ahead, baby; pump me hard. I don't care. Just do it. Do me quick. Do me now!"
Slowly at first, but with an ever quickening tempo, Ed worked his blood engorged cock in and out of Sandra's cunt, rending her delicate passageway with ever more savage thrusts as his lust driven consciousness focused to the impending release.
Now wiggling her hips in sluttish side-to-side movements, Sandra called out to her lover, "Give it to me, baby. Fill me up! I want to feel you come in me!"
And Ed, caught up in his own fevered passion, accelerated his movements, rhythmically pounding his pud into Sandra's fertile furrow, even as she eagerly met his assault with her own lusty actions. The scent of sex filled the small space; the clopping sounds of colliding groins provided a fit backbeat to the chorus of groans and cries.
Then, as if in pain, Ed moaned, "Oh, gawd!"
"It's okay," whispered Sandra, mostly to herself, "give it to me."
Even as Sandra's plaintively whispered supplication filled Ed's ear, his swollen manroot began pumping out its load. Great gobs of spunk spattered Sandra's pussy walls before sliding slowly downward in the weak Martian gravity, there to pool at her cervix, even as more and more of the hot liquid spurted forth.
And Sandra, now for the very first time in her life, came at the very instant her lover came, moaning and whimpering in pleasure as her quivering pussy walls milked Ed's tool. "Oh, honey," she groaned as her convulsing cervix lapped hungrily at the life giving liquid sloshing deep within her.
That it should last an eternity was their most fervent desire -- but it could not last so long. Spent and exhausted, the two lovers finally rolled apart, there to catch their breath while whispering of their love and happiness.
#
Timing was crucial. The passageway would soon close. Morphed to a fine tendril, the spirit eased its way inward, savoring long absent sensations of life. When safely ensconced within, it gathered itself around the teeming swarm, then awaited the moment.
#
Doctor Wyles was beaming. She held the swaddled newborn up one more time for the cameraman, then said, "I think that's enough, Dan."
The cameraman nodded, lowered the tool of his trade, then cycled out through the sick bay's biolock.
Doctor Wyles turned, looked lovingly down upon the infant girl cradled so carefully in her arms, then reluctantly handed it over to Sandra. From the other side of the gurney a wide-eyed Ed looked on.
Ed and Sandra were speechless. However, while assisting an orderly in cleaning the mess, Doctor Wyles compensated for the couple's silence, excitedly blurting out, "I just can't believe it!" Then, her voice quavering with emotion, she added: "When I signed on to this expedition, I never expected to deliver the very first Martian."
In the giddiness of the moment the good Doctor's ignorance might be forgiven. But just a few seconds later, the infant, quite vocally and with a firm politeness, corrected the Doctor's inaccurate statement. A new era had arrived.
