A Guest From the Moon

‘This is your moment, Jo,’ I thought to myself, as I started to pull down the zip of my black uniform, allowing my golden breasts to be exposed. ‘You’ve been waiting for this all your life.’

My uniform was one-piece and tight-fitting, which parted easily from my full chest as I pulled on the silver zip, inch by delicious inch.

You see, as soon as I was assigned to my new post on the Moon, the first thing I wanted to do was get naked.

However – listen to me – I don’t mean getting naked with just anyone: I didn’t just walk up to the first person I saw in a Moonbase corridor and say, ‘Hey, my name’s Jo, look at this fine pair of tits – would you like to suck on them?’

No. That was not my style.

I was different from that – indeed, you could say I’ve been different all my life. I’ve always had a different way of looking at things, a different way of feeling about things, you know?

For a start, when I was twenty-two, I joined the Star Exploration Academy – so while my friends were keen to spend their weekends riding round the back roads of the cities in their hover cars, or feeding credits into the Hologram machines at the All Night Cafe, I spent my time studying – astrophysics, astronomy, astrobiology – all kinds of stuff.

Well, as long as I still had an active sex life, of course. I made sure I didn’t cut that out.

Men, women – I was open to all partners.

But I still put a lot of time into my studies.

Let me tell you why.

Because I used to spend hours looking at the beautiful cold globe of the Moon in the sky, and thought, ‘Moon, I want you.’

It was like I was talking to it as a lover, you know? Sending out a telepathic message of need and desire.

‘I want you,’ I said mentally to the Moon as I gazed at its aching beauty. At the Academy I would stare at it for hours through the glass window of my room; and at other times I would stand at midnight in the Academy gardens, hunched up in a coat, my breath a white whisper in the air, looking up in wonder at this celestial body miles away from me out in space.

And despite the distance, I felt it was staring back at me, and that it could hear me, tuned into my intense thoughts.

My message was: ‘Moon, I want you. I want to live on you, I want to have a future with you. I want to live on your beautiful mystery, to share the breathtaking mystery of you. I want to be there, living on you, breathing you in almost – the wonder of another world.’

That was the point.

I wanted to have new horizons, away from the Earth.

There, I felt like I had done it all – being naked in the gardens outside my apartment block, being naked in the fields, lying naked on the warm branches up trees on a summer’s afternoon, being naked in the seas letting the water play joyously around my clit, being naked on the soft sandy beaches; letting the warm countryside breeze play on my tanned stomach, letting the cold sea breeze play on my bare breasts, letting the hot August sun bake my naked back and shoulders – I felt like I’d experienced all that.

How can any woman not enjoy that?

We’re sensual beings, we love that.

I certainly do. I love getting naked with nature – allowing the wind to kiss my bare skin, welcoming the sensual sunlight onto my naked thighs. I will always love that – I haven’t fallen out of love with it.

Don’t worry, my darling planet Earth: I haven’t got bored with you at all.

But in my growth and development, I knew I wanted more.

And more.

Oh, God. So much more.

It’s what being human is all about.

And that was where the Moon came in. I would be in my room at the Academy, the night late, halfway through an essay, my head spinning with calculations and equations, and I would take a break by looking up from my computer and out through the window and see the Moon, gracefully high in the sky, tucked away in a corner of the cold glass, and think to myself, ‘Oh, you beautiful, beautiful thing.’

Do you understand what I mean?

Have you ever felt that about the Moon?

Have you ever ached with the sheer beauty of it?

I thought, ‘Oh Moon, sweet, sweet Moon, I want to be naked on you. I want to be like a flower growing on your surface, unique and mysterious, at home in the wonder of you, as if my naked body would be something growing out of your soil, something precious, a lovely gift on your landscape.’

The wanting was so great inside me.

‘I want my naked body spread out like a jewel on your surface,’ I thought, ‘and for starships to pass overhead and look down on me with surprise and wonder, as they see me wedded to the mystery of what you are.’

Now, I’m the kind of woman who’s always wanted so much to feel exotic: I’ve already paraded my body naked and golden on the beaches of Barbados, swam naked and proud in the azure Caribbean, relaxed naked and free in the lush green Daintree Rainforest of Queensland, Australia – and now I wanted something else, something special.

Which meant off the planet altogether.

Do you understand what I mean, as you read my words, about wanting more? Pleasure is pleasure, and it’s natural to want to savour it, taste it, explore it. It’s natural to want to explore that pleasure further and further.

Your body and mind and soul always want more; you want to live life to the full, want to make your future ecstatic.

We all do.

We all want more.

And in doing that, we truly become ourselves.

So I’m sure you’ll know what I mean when I say I wanted to find new horizons, almost as if my body was commanding me to feed it with a new ecstasy, to enjoy the serenade of living.

James Lusarde says he is fascinated by the wonder and mystery of women, love, romance and sex. He has four stories up on amazon at the moment, including ‘Naked on the Moon’