By Shonhalok
I was in the bath when I heard the door release – followed by quick, light
footsteps ascending the stairs – just on the stroke of ten – precisely on
time. Of course, I knew who it was, for I had sent him the code.
Softly, in answer to his greeting, more than a little nervous, I called out,
"I'm in here."
A moment later, he pushed the door ajar and entered. The room already
miniscule shrank further, challenged by his imposing height and daunting
presence.
Shyly, I gazed up at him from where I lay beneath the water, for an instant
meeting the gaze of his direct hazel eyes. His brooding eyebrows, along
with his usually unruly hair had recently been trimmed. Brushed forward
over his brow and temples, it framed the face of Mephistopheles, my Dark
Knight, blessed with a mysterious air and a perilous glory. That evening,
instead of his habitual robes, he wore a well-cut, casual, suit, a soft russet
shade, beneath which, I glimpsed a becoming mandarin-collared shirt, dyed the
same colour as the sands on his home world.
The bath, full to the brim with a thick layer of soap bubbles concealed my
nakedness, yet the flame buried in his eyes echoed the heat of the water.
He gazed down at me, one aristocratic eyebrow on the rise, and my heart
leapt. I trembled beneath the froth, for that smile was more intimate
than any kiss.
"So, we meet again," he murmured, his soft drawl, mellifluous, and
deceptively calm. "But do not hide. I wish to look upon
thee. Show thyself."
Held in thrall by his mesmerising gaze, obedient to his will, I reached for the
handles on each side of the bath and pulled myself upright. Our eyes were
now level as I turned to face him, my breasts discreetly obscured by a coating
of soap bubbles that also draped my belly and thighs. I peeped at him
from beneath my eyelashes, to see the secret-smile he reserved only for me
curve in approval.
"Do not be shy, t'veh." And he leaned forward, his eyes
appraising as he delicately swept away the concealing foam.
Warmth surged through me, staining my chest and cheeks with crimson as he
reached out and cupped one of my breasts in each of his hands, his thumbs
gently brushing the nipples. The sensitive buds obeyed his silent but
insistent command. They rose, standing proud of the surrounding darker
aureoles, dusky pink, abruptly hard as pebbles.
"Look at me," he quietly directed and unable to glance aside I stared
into the fathomless depths of his eyes while his long fingers slowly moved
downward, skimming each side of my wet body, over my hips to my thighs.
Unable to prevent it, I moaned softly as he explored my abdomen, his intimate
touch tingling across my skin in a fiery caress. He ringed my belly
button with a questing fingertip and my stomach lurched.
He saw my uncertain swallow and his eyes darkened
further. "Everywhere I have touched with my fingers, my lips and
tongue and teeth will follow. This I guarantee."
It was a promise I knew he had every intention of keeping as he continued his
devastatingly teasing massage. Breathless with anticipation, blood
throbbing hotly through my veins, my knees trembled as he pulled lightly at the
tight, moist curls that clustered at the apex of my quivering thighs.
With pounding heart, the pulses beating erratically in my temples and throat as
well as the secret place between my legs, I awaited the further expected
assault.
It did not happen. Instead, he abruptly stepped nearer to the bath,
leaned forward, and with tantalizing possessiveness took my right nipple
between his lips. While his hands slid gently down the length of my back,
assertively exploring the shallow cleft at the bottom of my spine, his tongue
tip lathed my swollen bud. Instinctively I arched my backbone, clutching
at his shoulders as my knees threatened to give way. Electricity arced
through me and only his hands on my buttocks stopped me from falling. A
moan of ecstasy escaped my control as my sexuality awakened beneath his
embrace.
At my gasp of sweet agony, he straightened, hands spread across my bottom, and
his mouth reached for my lips. I felt the shock of my own eager response
as I gave myself up to the passion of his kiss. Lips hard and searching,
ravished me for what seemed an eternity, sending fresh delight spiralling
through my flesh. His mouth scorched a burning trail along my jaw, his
breath hot and moist against my throat, his eyelashes fluttering the length of
my cheek. Revelling in pleasure, I did not resist as he drew me closer
against him, a tremor of wanting shivering through me from neck to knees.
"I'll make you wet, " I murmured diffidently against his ear,
unashamedly clinging to him. With large hands still pressed against the
yielding flesh of my rump, a dark brow arched mischievously. He nipped my
ear lobe and a bolt of scorching desire flared through my abdomen.
"I look forward to it." I
shivered again at the assurance in his voice and he drew away a little so that
he could look into my eyes.
"Are thee cold, my k'diwa? Shall we continue this in thy
room?" Without waiting for an answer, he reached for the fluffy
white towelling-sheet warming on the heated rail, wrapped it about me, and
lifted me from the bath. Then, gathering me like a child into his arms he
strode confidently into the upstairs hall.
As in any typical dwelling on this planet, the rooms were
compact and the room I called mine was no exception. A plain rectangle,
it was undistinguished except for the huge number of paper books and a large
picture window, draped with lace curtains pulled now against the dark. In
the daytime, the sun filled it with warmth and light but now the yellow walls
glowed with the softness of pale gold lamplight.
Still holding me in his arms, he looked quickly around at the inbuilt pale wood
cupboards and vanity desk before placing me on the wide, wall-length cabin bed
– a three-foot high platform with storage drawers underneath. For a
moment, he concentrated on getting me warm and dry, briskly rubbing the
absorbent terry cotton over my skin watching my reaction with knowing eyes as
the towel lightly chafed my nipples, that same secret smile tugging at his lips
when I took a quick, excited breath. Hardened by the friction and his
interest, the tips of my breasts stood at attention, two tightly furled flower
buds waiting to be picked. Putting a pillow behind my shoulders, he urged
me gently back against the wall and elbowed my knees apart before expertly
patting between my thighs, his eyes again on my face. I clutched at the
duvet, gathering it between my fingers, eyes half closed, moaning softly as my
clitoris abruptly throbbed.
Correctly interpreting my frantic look, he murmured. "Undo my shirt,
Beloved One," and shivered as I fumbled with the fastenings.
Quickly, he shouldered out of his jacket and shirt as I reached with unsteady
fingers for the closures on his trousers, wanting to see him, wanting to feel
his skin against my own. It came as no surprise that he wore no
underwear. He kicked off his boots, pushed down his pants, and rolled me
into his arms. His mouth fastened on mine again and I parted my lips
allowing him to plunder my tongue, take it captive, and suckle it into blissful
submission.
He shifted onto his side until his abdomen was snug against by spine, arms
beneath my breasts, his hot palms teasing my raised nipples. The swell of
his penis rubbed the furrow between by bottom-cheeks, nudging at my opening,
and my crotch grew wet. He nipped my neck, pushed me fully onto my
stomach, while his hot palm soothed a path over the rounded swell of my hip and
onward to the shallow crease that cleft my buttocks. Abruptly, to the
exclusion of everything else, my concentration focused on the fingers that
lightly roamed between the globes of my cheeks. I clenched against him
instinctively, and heard his impatient sigh. A moment later, he reined a
flurry of butterfly kisses down my backbone and my nervous fear calmed. But not
for long.
I felt him nuzzle the dimples in the small of my back, pressing his lips to
each one. Yet, when his tongue slithered moistly over my skin, I squirmed
once more in breathless trepidation. I tried to turn but his arm suddenly
became a band of steel holding me down as he leaned over me.
"Would thee escape me, sweetness," he murmured against my flank in a
husky whisper. "Or have thee dreamed of me exploring thee in just
this way?"
When his finger pressed against the entrance to my anus I gasped, liquid
sensations swirling through my abdomen. As with my belly button in the
bath earlier, he twirled a fingertip around the tightly pinched sphincter, his
hot breath quickening the skin there. Clutching at the duvet, a tremor
heating my groin and thighs, I gnawed at the clenched fist trapped beneath me
until, completely hypnotized by his touch, I yielded to the burning sweetness
that gradually started to build deep inside my pelvis. But a moment
later, paying no heed to my whimpering appeal, the probing fingers playfully
moved on, the sounds of his tender amusement echoing faintly through the
pounding blood in my ears.
A hand on my hip turned me over onto my back once more and without being fully
aware, I slid my palms up his chest, lightly grazing his nipples before twining
my arms around his neck. He pressed against me full-length, his skin
wonderfully smooth, almost hairless apart from a fuzzy softness on his
chest. Even his pubis was bare. His hands clasped my bottom pulling
me against his erection and I felt the rousing heat of his flesh burn into
me.
I ground my crotch against him as he stroked me with his shaft, juices
glistening wetly, wanting him inside of me one way or another – but he had
other ideas.
"Not yet, t'veh. There is plenty of time before we get to
that."
Again, he slipped off the bed, leaned me back against the pillow, and put
another under my hips, raising me slightly. Spreading my knees, his
bright gaze drank me in.
"Thee is wanton," he growled, "Mine own
jezebel." I inhaled sharply as he gripped my ankles, thrusting my
legs back against my breasts so that I was fully open and accessible.
Then, with his large hands holding my thighs even wider apart, he bent his head
to nuzzle lovingly at my nether lips.
Tufts of his hair gently tortured the softness of my inner
thighs and belly as his mouth performed its magic rites. As he laid a
pattern of yielding kisses down the crease of my groin, I heard myself cry out,
a muffled, inarticulate sob. My hips lifted of their own accord and I
writhed helplessly in his determined grasp. Never before had I
experienced such vibrant sensations. Again, I cried out, clutching at his
hair with both hands.
Growling low and exultantly at my surrender, he eagerly allowed me to guide his
mouth to the sweetest spot. The secretions of my body flowed like wild
honey as he tongued me, lapping and stroking, first with the tip then with the
flat, soft then hard, fierce and delicate, smooth and rough, licking a masterly
path between my inner and outer lips, dancing on the hood of my clitoris, until
the tap-tap of his wayward tongue drove me to a wild concupiscence.
When I thought I could bear no more, when the fires raged, and passion pounded
through my blood, heart, and head, he pulled away and for a time rained kisses
on the mound of my pubis or nibbled playfully at the rounded globes of my
bottom, or gently sucked at my outer lips.
"Sweet t'veh", he murmured in soft praise, until my heartbeat
steadied and I could breathe again, "little chkariya, my own le-matya-girl
."
Then he picked up where he left off until my senses reeled once more and I
stifled the rapturous scream that worked in my throat. He kept me on the
edge of the precipice for more than an hour taking me to the brink each time,
mercilessly restraining that last fateful leap into the abyss, until the tears
flowed down my face and I begged him for release.
But his heady torture had just begun.
He took the pillow from beneath my head and hips before settling beside me on
the bed. Encircling me in his strong arms, his hand on my back crushed me
to him and moulded my curves to his muscular body. My head fit perfectly
in the hollow between his neck and shoulder and for a moment, I buried my hot,
tear-streaked face there desperately aware of the intoxicating cinnamon scent
of his bare, clean skin pressed the length of my own, intermingled with the
musky odour of my arousal. But he would not allow me to hide there for
long. He licked the salty tears from my face before reclaiming my lips,
his mouth covering mine, burning with a fiery ardour as his tongue stoked my
desire.
Almost delirious with excitement, I hardly noticed when he turned on his back
and rolled me on top of him. Even if I had wanted to, I could not twist
loose. The strength of his arms dragged me along his body until I straddled his
chest. Those bewitching hazel eyes held me like a butterfly on a
pin. Mesmerized I stared down at him.
Long lips curled in a bare suggestion of a smile as he
murmured, "Turn around, Beloved. Face the other way."
Without question, I followed his instructions, twisting around so that my back
was to him. His hands on my hips lifted me easily and repositioned me
even higher on his chest. Hot breath fanned between my legs and I gasped
as fresh sensations burst through my nether lips. The hot blood rose in
my cheeks as I realised where his nose rested but soon forgot my shame as his
devilish tongue invaded my last defence. He worked me as before until I
wailed. The sweat started from my pores as I arched above him, spine bent
and my head thrown back. Instinctively, I bore down, grunting, and in
that moment, he thrust his tongue up into me.
The sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before. Unable to prevent
myself I rocked and arched, the warmth expanding from the centre of my being,
little thrills shaking and trembling through my womb, building faster and
faster as his tongue plunged in and out – until the rising tension exploded in
a burst of flaming incandescence.
---
The convulsions took me over, juddered through my awakened flesh, and then
shrank abruptly as all my awareness focussed on the conflagration blazing along
my nerves.
Strangely muted, far off, I heard my voice cry out his name. Then I was
lying in his arms again, head pillowed on his strong chest, the beat of his
heart beneath my ear. For a time he allowed me to collect my breath, snuggled
against him our legs intertwined. Lazy fingers trailed a path up and down
my back before he took my hand, guiding it to the apex of his thighs,
encouraging me to explore him in the same way he had explored me.
Accepting the unspoken invitation, I took his hot, turgid flesh between my
fingers and bent my mouth to him. Absorbing his sweetness, my lips
tingled.
"Oh, yes, t'veh," I heard him whisper. "That is the
way."
His hand on my crown held me close as I pleasured him. With the tip of my
tongue, I learned his contours, each ridge, and line, the responsive
underbelly, the smooth head with the single, salty tear weeping from the tiny
slit. Hips climbing, gently nudging the back of my throat, his soft cries
urged me on. His hands tangled in my hair, directed the movements of my
mouth as I rose and fell upon his penis in rhythm with his gasps and moans.
He became a Demon, my Quiet Knight, holding on to that which should be mine,
withholding my victory. He fought against his body's command to the very
last. I swallowed him whole, worked him afresh. My tongue cavorted
along his length, capered and flounced, pirouetted, and sashayed, until my jaws
ached. Then, at last, I felt his shaft swell and stiffen. He
throbbed against the roof of my mouth, bucked, then let go. I tasted
cinnamon, rich and flavourful as his seed gushed over my tongue.
With a satisfied sigh, I released him and lay back,
exhausted. But while the taste of him even yet remained fresh on my lips,
he reached for me again.
One hand shifted me up his hard body in one smooth slide while the other
arranged my leg over his lean hip. His penis had hardly softened but wet
as I was, he entered me easily, a slow, gliding pressure, a key slipping into a
well-oiled lock. He curled his long fingers over my buttocks, clasped me
to him, and rolled me beneath him on the bed. Inside, I felt his penis
stretch and push deeper.
"A'tha," he murmured huskily, and nipped sharply at my ear
lobe with his teeth. Pain and pleasure merged, different sides of the
same coin. "K'diwa, sweet t'veh, my Beloved One.
Now thee will learn the meaning of passion."
His weight pinned me to the mattress. Dark eyes glowed with a strange
predatory flame. The heat of him came from within and without. He
pushed gently – and slid further in – until our pubis met. A strange,
tingling delight spread along my nerves as he started to rock slowly, dreamily,
back and forth in sensuous massage. His penis throbbed and pleasure,
building minute-by-minute, radiated outward. He stroked my hair, kissed
my brow and cheek with his fingertips, ran the pad of his thumb across my lips
in loving attention. Finally, he bent his head suckling my nipples in
turn until I gasped and arched my back. With my heels locked together in
the small of his back, an unstoppable ache gathered deep within me.
"I'm going to come," I moaned. "I can't stop it…"
He raised his head. "Look at
me," he said.
It was a command I had no wish to flout. Obediently I gazed up into his
eyes. My face glowed; the skin of my breasts and thighs prickled with
currents of desire. The fire spread to my sheath clasped about his
penis. He shivered.
Poised above me, his body quivered. He pulled out in
slow deliberation. The muscles of my vagina tightened about him as he
re-entered. Again, he withdrew. I sighed through pursed lips, my
body taut beneath him, toes curled against the bed, fingers digging into the
duvet.
By some marvel of bio-control, he pressed inward once more in calculated
leisure… a slow dance… sexy salsa… smoochy-twosome… last waltz…
Far off a clock chimed twelve as I came with his final push, my contractions
potently deep, the pleasure so exquisite I seemed to shatter into a million
glowing stars. He followed me, hurtled beyond the point of no return; our
bodies vibrating as we soared to an awesome, shuddering climax together--
*********************************************************************
Sarek removed his fingertips carefully from the katra points of Amanda's
face. She lay on her back, an arm thrown up above her head, lost in
blissful slumber. As he continued to watch, he heard her sigh in content,
a smile of satisfaction curving her lips.
His own lips echoed her look for a moment as he murmured softly, "Sleep
well, my Beloved t'veh, sweet dreams…"
Though he had never admitted it openly, either to himself or to her, he knew he
loved her with a passion that only his ancestors had truly known. But
Vulcan biology being what it was, he could only show her that ardour every seven
years – a poor return for all the devotion she had lavished on him over the
years.
His voice muted, he commanded the lights down except for a spotlight directly
above his side of the dais and reached for the padd that lay on the retracting
shelf nearby. Leaning back against his pillows, he translated the alien
script that ran across the screen, the words spoken under his breath,
resonating on his tongue: 'Er Roud el Aater p'nozeka el Khater', it
began. The language was ancient, though still spoken on Earth. He
had learned Arabic specifically to read the text in its original form.
The task had truly been a labour of love, a gift for his Human wife, though she
knew only the result of his work.
That thought lifted the corners of his hard mouth in the way only Amanda would
recognise. He had read that Humans believed the only truly erotic organ
was the brain. Now he knew the truth in the saying. What his body
could not provide his imagination made up for. He pleased his wife and
his wife pleased him.
And when he ran out of inspiration from the pages of The Perfumed Garden, there
was always The Kama Sutra! The quiet night in he had suggested to Amanda
had certainly proved a success. Mentally he made a note to schedule
another for the following week.
The End.