By Rubrpig
The pattern of their lives formed. Most weekends were spent sealed away inside their lunar suits. Frank had gotten used to the breath control play that Charles indulged in when they were suited. It was easy to control and monitor in the suits and the added factor of the heat buildup in the suit when the life support system was turned off added to the intensity of the scene for both men.
Professionally, they were successful and had become the project leads for the company’s bid for the new shuttle space suit. Among the specifications for the suits from NASA was that the suits were not to be custom fitted to a specific astronaut but were to be designed so that a suit could be adjusted through interchangeable sections to fit any of the astronauts.
Between them and all of their experience in wearing their suits, they came up with a design for the new suits. The design called for a upper torso section that was made of Kevlar reinforced fibre glass to form a hard shell. This would be the basis for the outer section of the suit and the hard shell would also allow for the mounting of the back pack life support unit. The lower section would be the lower torso, legs and boots and the two pieces would seal together at the waist of the suit. The arms of the suit would attach to seals on the upper torso but were designed to be made in various lengths so they could be changed as required to fit various astronauts. The legs were also adjustable for length.
I am sick. I feel pretty crummy, but my Dom seems pretty happy about it for some reason.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are above the age of consent, but that kinda goes out the window since they engage in non-consensual behavior. The fact that it turns out all right for our fictional protagonists’ relationship doesn’t make it OK IRL. Always keep it safe, sane, and consensual. Even if that means you have to learn how to communicate better. Some details I left vague intentionally, so you fill them in however will make you more horny. This story is dedicated to Strappeddown, who inspired me to go back to work on it. And to Padlock86, who forced me to finish it.
“Fetch! Good boy!” Brett watched as Mascot chased after the leather-coated stick he’d thrown across the gym. The German Shepherd styled leather pup’s powerful and graceful movements were hypnotically natural and easy-looking. It still took Brett’s breath away. Like it had every day for the past several weeks. Brett had been true to his word. Every day after work, he stopped by the leather store and warehouse near the waterfront to visit Mascot. He’d walk in, greet the staff, then scan the security card he’d been given to access the pup training facility.
