The coffee was strong with lots of milk, the way I liked it. All of this was served on a white tablecloth, I had insisted on. A hand-operated cleanser...like the dry showers, removed all traces of fat and grease. Even the crumbs I cleaned up.Taking a dump was harder in the tent, because it was sent back through the matter transmitter. The suit still let me pass the liquids and solids, but instead of hitting the moon's surface, they disappeared just like the chicken bones, plates and tablecloth. I. As I enter the bar I’m hit with everything all at once, my senses are assaulted. From the dark smoky alcohol filled air that affects my eyes, nose, and lungs. To the beat of the music which I feel throbbing in my pussy. To the whine of the guitar which threatens to tear out my soul. I look around and find him in the corner. I head to the bar and get two shots, vodka straight up. The liquid fire sliding down my throat is a reminder of the fire I’ll be feeling between my lower lips in a few. More

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