Experiments In Physics
(photomanip by Farfalla, used with permission--thanks!)
Title: Experiments in Physics
Author: Starshadow
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: K/S
Farfalla's Challenge: Earslurping, sexy Vulcan handplay, ejaculating in pants
Disclaimer: All Hail Powerful ParaViaBorg gods who own the franchise.
I'm not making any money off this and never will. In case of glass,
break fire. Do not administer to household pets without veterinary
prescription. Not suitable for children or frightened neocons. Explicit
m/m sex within. Do Not Open if Allergic to Same. All contents not
copyright the omnipotent Paramount and Viacom copyright me, Starshadow
Productions, Ltd. Archive okay at ASC, ASCEML and the like, anyone
else, ask.
Beta: Tony Pearson. All mistakes mine.
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I am in my science lab after alpha shift. I am bent over the console,
overseeing a series of mathematical constructs that will enhance my
understanding of the physics work I have been conducting for the past
two point four five tendays. I hear the door slide open. I do not need
to turn around to know who it is. Your scent, as always intoxicates, me.
Your voice, as golden as you are. "Computer. Door lock, privacy code
alpha-alpha." I pretend to be absorbed in my work, but in reality, my
attention is on you. I feel and hear your body as it comes close to
mine. You lean over me and a cool tongue laps at my eartips. They have
fascinated you since we became lovers-- probably before, if truth be
known. For some reason many humans seem entranced by Vulcan ears,
as absorbed as I am by your pink shells, so unlike my own ears.
I turn quickly and embrace you in one move. Are you startled by my
quickness? Our uniform shirts slide together, and the feel of your body
under that cloth intoxicates me. I smell your arousal, sharp and
scented with the iron in your blood, and I want to immerse myself in
you. Absently,I snake a hand out and shut my console down, preserving
the formulae I have worked on for so many days. Another form of
research appeals to me now.
Your mouth tilts to mine and I engulf it human fashion with my own.
Vulcan fashion, I begin tracing my fingers on yours in the slow circles
that never fail to arouse you. Kissing is an interesting concept;
Vulcans do not kiss as a general rule. Our hands are more sensitive
than our mouths. Most of us are touch telepaths. We do not need to meld
to pick up stray thoughts in this way, but since most emotional beings
do not understand that, we have all been taught from childhood to
shield.
But not from our bondmates. Between us, a touch is more intense a sharing than a kiss.
You have learned well from me, my love.
Your fingers are on mine now and as they trace their swirling
patterns on my hands, from sensitive back to exquisitely sensitive
pads, they light a fire of electrical sparks that had I looked, I would
have been surprised to not see traced out in white hot and glowing
light. The light creeps up my arms and down to my belly, pooling there
and igniting warmth in my groin as well. I must have groaned aloud as
your belly touches mine, and I can feel your hardness through the
layers of cloth, your sweet pink flesh touching mine as my sheath
retracts and my arousal gains strength. I hear your answering low moan.
Do you whisper my name?
I hear my voice, ragged and low. "You are a sorcerer, James. You have
bewitched me. You put me under your spell each time we are alone, and
not a few times when we are surrounded by others. Do you know what you do to
me?"
Your sweet mouth, capturing mine again, silencing me. "Sssh,
love. Touch me again, here," and your fingers find my meld
points.
Mind-blind as you are, our bond gives you the boost to welcome me
into our link, into your cool and bright depths, so different
from my barren orderliness. Aiii, James. I am undone. Your tongue on my
face again, and we are moving together to the floor, and I find I do
not care about my mathematics or my careful constructs; all I care
about is the physics of our two bodies becoming one. I make myself a
cushion for your body, and your tongue again bathes my ears, lapping at
their tips as my sehlat once used to lap at a toothsome bit of fruit.
But your tongue is more esthetically pleasing, and it makes me arch my
body and Oh! The cloth between us becomes yet another erotic sensation.
I want to move it out of the way, I want to be devoured by you, but as
our burgeoning cocks touch, more sparks fly. Bemused, the thought hits
me--I would not be surprised if there were flames--instead, I can hold
back no longer, and we both erupt together, our touch alone sufficing
to bring us to the peak.
You grin at me and hold me tight for a moment. "Ah, love. I'd like to continue this--after a shower and in our quarters."
Rueful, I allow myself the upturning of my mouth only for your eyes.
"Jim." I speak your name as if reproachful. I am a mess, but so are
you, my sweet Captain. How are we to get to our quarters in such a
state? Stickiness pools in my belly and I can smell the musk of our
emissions. I sit up and we pull each other to our feet. I check
the locker behind me. Ah, good. Lab coats may hide a multitude of sins,
as it were. I hand one to you and don one myself, and find myself
pulled into your embrace again. I allow the kiss, then pull back.
I trace the line of your chin with a fingertip.
"Captain," I say formally. "My staff will be here in one point five
minutes, if they keep to schedule--I think it would be wise were
we to retreat."
A grin, as you brush my hair straight with your fingers, and run
them through your own frequently disheveled locks. Then you straighten
and unlock the door, as I have the computer cycle the air, dispersing
the scent as much as it can, since much lingers on our bodies.
Outside in the corridor, three of my technicians are standing, bemused.
I think perhaps they know. I have a distinctly unVulcan urge to
smile. Instead, I pull my lab coat around me and follow my Captain, I
have a desire to continue the exploration of physics of form and
function under heated water, with an eye to horizontal experimentation
later. I think you will be pleased with the elegance of the results.
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For Farfalla with love.
Starshadow