"I have a better idea..."

You show Fax the bottle of whiskey you found earlier. She doesn't look at you with any expression at first, but then slowly a grin grew on her face.

"Now you're talking my language! Can't go on a dangerous mission without having a drink for the road first."

You uncork the bottle and immediately you can smell the liquor; it's strong and heady, yet subtle as a fancy whiskey should be. You raise the bottle to your lips and take a drink... and you just about stopped yourself from spitting it out. This is seriously strong stuff! The **** numbs your mouth, tasting like liquid wood.

"Hey give me that, it's a waste on you!"

You pass her the bottle and she takes a heavy swig, seemingly more used to drinking glorified paint-stripper than you are. She still grimaces afterwards though, wrinkling her face like a baby sucking a lemon for the first time.

"Christ, where'd you find this? It's good, but jesus. You could fuel the pope-mobile on this stuff."

She takes another heavy swig, then passes the bottle back to you, inviting you to continue. This time you manage to keep it down better. Time passes when you're having fun, and you both get progressively drunker... and hornier. She keeps looking at you and putting her hand on your leg.

"Hey," she suddenly says, slightly slurred but contained with years of drinking experience, "I have a crazy idea."

She brings herself closer to you.

"I've never had sex in a cryo-pod before."

You tell her that's a crazy idea.

"No no, think about it! Maybe we're out of our depth here. Maybe the safest thing for us to do is to wait for someone to get us. Someone will eventually come- it hasn't been that long since we've been frozen by the looks of things. Imagine the look on their faces when they see your cock in my pussy through the window!" She nears her face near yours, climbing onto you a little, her lips tempting as her eyes look wistfully into yours. Then suddenly starts laughing, her face red and blushing. "Fuck! What am I saying! I get horny when I've been drinking- am I that easy? To fuck a stranger I just met?" She lowers her crotch over yours; you can feel wetness through her black spacer-briefs. She grins as she starts rubbing against you.

"Yeah I guess I am."

She grabs your head behind the ear with one hand as she goes in for the kiss. Her grip is firm and strong, with the confidence of someone who has done this before many times- you aren't the first one to she had drunkenly made out with. And the making out is drunkenly; the approach was slow and sensual, but the landing is sloppy, aggressive, and passionate, your hands frantically groping and tugging and caressing as your tongues dart in and out and dancing with each other. You can taste the whiskey in her saliva, but it also has a separate, natural, sweetness. She moans. She moans when you unclip her bra, sightlessly, as you wouldn't dare to make such a rookie mistake as to interrupt the joining of lips- and she moans again when it falls away down and gets tossed aside, forgotten, and your hands pounce at her two soft yet modest, yet certainly not unpleasant to look at or grope at breasts. She giggles softly, muffled, as you touch her nipples for the first time. They're standing at attention, cold- no doubt still getting warmed up from the cryo-sleep. You can certainly help with that.

"Ahn!~" she lets out suddenly as your fingers circle the areolas. Her body retreats and collapses on itself, automatically responding to the tickling. Her eyes give you a coy 'it's nice, but you can put your hands to better use elsewhere' look as she takes hold of your wrists, and lead them around her waist. She'd entrenched herself on top of you now, her body on top of yours and close, her legs splayed and your skins touching. It's very pleasant to just make out, to just hold someone in your hands, and you do so for a while, but your cock can't help but repeatedly flex, tapping against her like someone knocking on a door. Your lips part ways for a moment as she shimmies her boxer briefs off her hips and past her well toned legs. Her junk is as toned as her abs, a single short tuft growing just above the parted, wavy lip-like slit. Then, she gets up, walks on over (slightly staggering) to her now vacant cryo-pod, and leans herself seductively for you against the angled padding inside.

"Want to cryo-pod and chill? Heh-heh."

One part of you says you shouldn't, that maybe it's not a great idea. That part is very quiet compared to the part of you that is horny.

So you follow suit. You strip and get in along with her.

She kisses you again as the door hisses closed behind you, just about feeling the glass against your ass-cheeks. You insert yourself into her wet pussy, and combined with the anticipation of the freezing, it feels so so very good. You find that as you are suddenly plunged into dreamless blackness, that feeling of pleasure lingers, stretching like a piece of taffee into oblivion.

As to what happens to you next, well, who knows for certain. Perhaps the two of you were found or you weren't- maybe rescue did come, or you were unfrozen by aliens thousands of years in the future, or the station exploded and killed you mercifully- but that's no-longer a part of this story.