NEW: TOS "Jack-a-roe" S/m+ 2/3 [NC17]
Greywolf the Wanderer
summary, etc., see part 1.
"Jack-a-roe"
TOS S/m+ [NC17]
part two of three
I enjoy the feeling of my trousers pressing against
my erection. Were I aboard the ship I would be embarrassed
by such a lack of control, but here it is appropriate.
There are several men who meet my gaze, but they only smile
and incline their heads, as if to acknowledge our kinship,
our shared preferences. One man stares for a moment longer,
licking his lips. I blink, uncertain of how to react, and
after a moment he rises and comes to sit beside me.
"New here, eh?" His voice is low-pitched and
somewhat rough, pleasing to my ears. He is tall and
well-built, with olive skin, high cheekbones and sleek black
hair. He could almost be Vulcan, but for his rounded human
ears.
"I-- yes. I have not been here before." He looks
me up and down quite boldly, and I am surprised to find that
I like being the subject of such attentions. Before my
sexual awakening I often found the desires of others to be
both tiresome and offensive. Now my perceptions have
changed.
I lift my glass and find that it has somehow become
empty again. How inconvenient. Perhaps I should do
something about that.
He smiles at me. "Here, let me get this next
round." And he picks up both glasses and goes to get us
refills. I watch him walk away, watch the sway and flex of
his buttocks within his tight grey trousers. I like what I
see, what he makes me feel -- most enjoyable sensations.
My new acquaintance is drinking red wine, but he
brings me another Romulan ale. I am becoming quite fond of
the taste. It satisfies something in me -- some harkening
to the ways of my ancestors perhaps? I am not sure. All I
know is that it tastes good, and that I am finally relaxing.
I feel *good,* in a way I have not experienced since I was a
child. My body is warm, my muscles feel loose, comfortable.
My mind is a little clouded, but not excessively, and in
fact this too is a pleasing sensation.
For once in my life I do not care what I look like,
or what anyone else is thinking. I do not care whether I am
behaving properly. I am enjoying myself, and that is what
seems important. Now I begin to understand my ship-mates'
fondness for alcohol. It does, in fact, have its uses. I
hoist my glass and drink deeply. When I set it down again
it is half empty.
"Hey, what're you thinking about?" He is leaning
closer, looking into my eyes.
"I was thinking... that this is agreeable," I say, a
little surprised at myself but enjoying this minor rebellion
against the strict customs of my homeworld and the
ever-present strictures of life as a StarFleet officer.
He laughs, and the accompanying smile changes his
whole face, from a dark brooding aspect to one of pleasant
open-ness. His eyes are a rich golden amber, and as I look
at him I realize that he too is beautiful, that I would very
much like to touch him.
His smile widens. "My name's Ronan," he says.
"What's yours?"
I have to think for a moment. "Sevek."
He looks me up and down, evidently liking what he
sees. "I'm glad you took that cloak off," he says, his
voice almost a purr. "Shame to hide a body like that."
I look down at myself. I am not sure what he means.
My body is adequate, it serves my needs, but I have never
considered myself exceptional in any way. I am thin, not
heavily muscled. Being Vulcan I have never needed to work
on building up my strength, as so many humans do. Jim, now
-- he has a most pleasing physique. He lifts weights and
works in the gym, he puts considerable effort into
maintaining his looks -- with good results. But I am just
me.
Still, Ronan has paid me a compliment. It is
considered polite to express gratitude, I have learned.
"You are kind," I tell him, not really sure of what to say.
I take momentary refuge in my glass, once more enjoying the
taste of the ale and the way it burns as it goes down my
throat.
He smiles again, seeming more relaxed now. "Well,"
he says, "I have to admit, I do have ulterior motives. I
like what I see; I'd like to spend some time with you
tonight." He reaches out to touch my cheek with one finger.
"Mmm," he says. "Warm." Little ripples of warmth
echo outward from where he touches my face. His skin is
cooler than mine, but I like this, being touched this way by
one whose desires match my own. I do not exactly smile at
him, but I permit my face to be more open, less stern than
Vulcan custom might dictate. I lean into his touch, feeling
quite reckless and enjoying it. His smile widens and he
repeats the gesture, lingering longer this time, almost a
caress.
"Hey, d'you want to dance for a while?" He puts one
hand lightly on my shoulder. It surprises me a little that
I am not feeling his thoughts through his touch, but some
humans have natural mindshields and perhaps the ale has
affected my Gift. It does not seem important.
"I have not indulged in this activity before," I
tell him. "But I am willing to try."
He laughs again. "Okay, let's try it. If you don't
like it, we can always sit back down."
That seems logical. I find, though, when I stand
again, that the ale is definitely affecting my equilibrium.
I can walk, I am not falling about as I have sometimes seen
my ship-mates do -- but it requires greater concentration
than usual to walk in a straight line and not misstep. I
focus my thoughts and the difficulty diminishes. I follow
Ronan as he walks toward the back of the room. There is
another room behind the main one, and here the musicians are
playing somewhat quieter music than that in the front half
of the bar. Also, unlike those in the main room, the
dancers here all seem to be following the same pattern.
I watch the couples around us for some moments until
I have discerned this pattern. Then I let Ronan put his arm
about my waist and lead us onto the floor among the others.
The dance seems simple enough, a sequence of repeated steps
and turns -- it is much simpler than the spinning, leaping
dances of my homeworld. It is easy to follow his lead, to
let myself be carried along by the music and the strength of
his arms. His scent is warm and rich, intoxicating.
When the music stops, however, the room seems to
keep spinning for a time. I sway and find it necessary to
hold on to his arm to keep from stumbling. The ale, it
seems, is catching up with me. But I still feel good. He
smiles, seeing my difficulty, then leans over and presses
his lips to mine. They are human-cool and taste of the wine
he has drunk, but this, too, is enjoyable.
In a matter of moments we are leaning against each
other, breathing one another's breath, still kissing. His
touch has ignited a smouldering warmth inside of me; I can
feel my body responding, my flesh growing even harder--
Oh, I like this. I have dreamed of this, lying in
my quarters at night, sweating and hungry, empty and alone.
And now it is happening, it is real...
We stand pressing our bodies together, sharing more
kisses. He teaches me to open my mouth, to touch his
tongue, to share the tastes of his mouth and mine. It is
pleasant indeed, and I feel the fire within me growing
hotter. He is hard, pressed against my thigh; my own
hardness presses against his belly. He rocks his hips back
and forth and I gasp at the resulting sensations. He
reaches to cup my buttocks, to lift me and press me more
tightly against him. A shiver runs through me and I cannot
entirely stifle a soft moan.
He gestures toward the back of the room and asks if
I wish to retire to a private booth. I permit myself the
smallest of smiles, and agree. I want to kiss him again. I
want to do more, to do things I have only dared to dream of
before. As we walk he keeps his arm around me as if to
support me, and this, too, is pleasing to me.
At the back of this room there are several large
booths, deep and semi-enclosed, with curtains across the
openings. He peers into one or two until he finds an
unoccupied one. Then he holds out his hand and I take it
and follow him inside, not sure what to expect.
The booth is actually a small room, carpeted in a
deep, soft pile, with padded benches on either side and a
small table against the back wall, barely big enough to hold
a glass or two. Small lamps on either side give a soft
orange light, much like that of a candle or an oil lamp.
Numerous pillows are scattered about the floor, and heavy
floor-length brocade curtains ensure privacy. On one of the
benches several neatly folded blankets can be seen. Ronan
takes a seat on the other bench and gestures for me to sit
beside him. I hesitate for an instant, but this is foolish.
My body's hunger has not abated. I sit and let myself be
gathered into his arms once more. I lean into his embrace
and let him kiss me again. His hands wander across my body,
stroking me, petting me as if I were a cat.
Ah, I like this, this kissing. I never understood
its appeal before, but now I do. I return the kiss -- then
stop, gasping, as he puts his hand on my erection. Ah, that
feels *good.* I smile very slightly and put my hand on him,
in turn. He is very hard beneath his clothes -- and hungry,
if his reaction to my touch is any indication. We sit there
touching one another, rubbing and stroking, until suddenly
he slides off the bench and goes to his knees in front of
me. He parts my knees and slides in between my legs,
reaching for the clasp of my trousers. I am silent, afraid
to say the wrong thing, afraid I am about to make a complete
fool of myself...
But that does not happen. Instead he slowly
unfastens my trousers and pulls me forward a little, so that
he can slide them partway down my thighs. He lowers his
head, presses his cheek against me, turns and puts his open
mouth upon me. Only the thin cloth of my briefs separates
us; it is as if there were nothing between us at all.
I cannot keep myself from gasping as he slides my
briefs down and takes the head of my penis into his mouth.
Ohhh...
*This* is...
This is amazing. I have never felt anything like
this before...
His tongue is cool, as human skin is cool; it is
smooth, as human tongues are smooth. He licks and sucks at
me, sliding the tip of his tongue between the two ridges on
the head of my penis. Oh, I *like* this!
I am as hard now as I have ever been in my life. My
penis is fully erect, my sheath retracted. I can smell my
own excitement, mixed with the salt-sharp tang of human
sweat. He lowers his head, raises it again, all the time
working me with that so-skillful tongue. I lean back
against the wall and let my eyes close, permitting what
little remains of my control to slip away. I lose myself in
his touch, in the feel of his mouth upon me, the sensation
of my penis sliding in and out of his throat. It feels *so
good.* Tension gathers within me, both like and unlike the
few times I have given in to temptation and pleasured
myself. No -- this is stronger, more elemental, far harder
to resist. Control is not an option, not now.
My breath grows short, my muscles tense... He takes
my full length in and swallows around me -- and I am lost,
writhing and gasping, as I fill his mouth with my seed.
Ahhhh...
He looks up at me as I fight to catch my breath and
he smiles, licking his lips. "Mmm," he says quietly, "you
taste good, my friend. Want to see?"
He rises and offers me a kiss and I accept,
surprised by the taste of myself upon his lips. It is not
unpleasant, merely different. It is not a thing I have
tasted before.
Now he sits beside me again and takes me into his
arms. We kiss once more, and I am amazed to find my body
responding anew. I had not realized this was possible. He
pets me again, reaching up under my shirts to caress me, to
stroke my skin and pinch at my nipples. I cannot help
shivering from the feelings he evokes.
He stops kissing me for a moment and leans back a
little, looks into my eyes. "Sevek," he purrs, and at first
I do not know who he means.
Oh, of course. Now I remember. "Sevek," he says,
"you are *hot,* my friend. Even your skin is hot. I want
you. Please, let me fuck you -- I'll make you feel *good.*"
I blink once or twice before my somewhat befuddled
mind can process his words. As I do I feel my penis swell,
my body grow eager and hungry once more. I lean forward and
kiss him again, fumbling a little but feeling more sure as I
continue. "Yes," I tell him, "please, now." I am awash in
the feel and the scent of him, overwhelmed by the glittering
of his eyes, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his fingers
gliding across my skin, so gentle, so soft and cool...
Ah -- I have hungered for this, I have needed this.
I have been so alone...
"Come on," he says, pulling me down to where he has
seated himself on the floor. The carpet is soft, the floor
is clean; I let myself be pulled into his arms and kissed
some more. He unfastens the rest of my clothes and I allow
him to do it, helping to remove them until we are both
naked, sitting together, running our hands over one
another's skin. I let him lower me to the floor, spread my
legs and slide himself between them. Once more he bends to
take me in his mouth and I gasp, my head thrown back, my
fists clenched. Oh, this is exquisite, it is torment... He
strokes my inner thighs, caressing me in places where no-one
else has touched me since I was an infant. And oh, it feels
good...
He guides me to lift my legs and bend my knees, to
give him better access. He lets my penis slide from his
mouth and starts licking downward, taking first one and then
the other of my testicles into his mouth, slurping at them,
nuzzling me with his chin. The roughness of his unshaven
face as it rubs against my skin is startling, exciting.
Then he lifts my scrotum and licks further down, until he is
licking me...
Ai! Ohh, yes...
Ahhh... Oh please, *more*--
I like this. I like this very much. I have never
imagined such a practice, but it feels wonderful. Now he
presses there with a fingertip, slick and wet and cool. He
pushes a little harder, and his finger... His finger goes--
Ah!
So *this* is how it feels. I never realized, I had
no idea...
I roll my head from side to side; I cannot keep
still. I am overwhelmed by this, by all these new
sensations... Now he pushes a second slippery finger into
me, moving both of them back and forth, stretching me,
working to loosen what has always been so tight. Oh, this
is delightful... He takes me in his mouth again, as he
pushes a third finger in beside the other two. I cannot
control myself; I am moaning and writhing and I do not care
at all. I want more of this, of him. I want to experience
all that he can teach me. I want him *now*--
"Ah! Please, do not keep me waiting..." I hardly
recognize my own voice, so deep and rough it sounds...
A soft laugh beside my ear, and his tongue flicks
out to taste my skin again. He kisses me for a moment, then
slides himself closer, pressing our bodies together. I feel
his fingers leave me and I mourn that loss, until I feel
something larger and warmer take their place, press inward,
push until it begins to enter. He is slick and wet, he has
prepared himself. I will my flesh to relax; after a moment
it does so, and that easily he pushes inside my body.
Sss! For an instant there is pain, sharp and bright
-- then I command my body to relax further and the pain
passes. He slides forward until he is snugged up against
me, until I can feel him deep inside. I feel full and yes,
I like this, also, very much.
He groans, hugging me tightly for a moment. "Ohhh,
you're so hot and tight, you feel *so good,*" he whispers,
and then he begins to move.
Slowly he withdraws, until the ridge around the head
of his penis fetches up against my sphincter. It is an odd
sensation, but a pleasant one. Then he thrusts inward once
more, arching his back for the deepest possible penetration
-- and I gasp, shuddering, as he brushes something even
deeper inside me. A wave of intense pleasure ripples
outward from that spot, rushing through my whole body.
"Ahh," I moan, "oh, yes -- Ronan, please, do that again..."
He smiles, and does so. The feeling is even
stronger the second time.
Oh, this is... I have never felt this before,
either. I reach around him to cup his buttocks, pulling him
closer. An even stronger shudder rocks me and now it is he
who gasps as my muscles contract, squeezing him. He bends
his head to kiss me, wraps his arms around me, thrusts
deeply again and yet again. We settle into a rhythm -- the
oldest rhythm of all -- rocking and thrusting, holding each
other tightly. His softly-furred belly slides against my
penis as he moves; the friction is maddening, exquisite,
delightful.
Hot electric tingles of pleasure gather in my loins;
waves of it flood my body. I am submerged in it, moaning,
shuddering, completely out of control. I can hardly
breathe; a strange new pressure is building within me,
growing ever higher, ever more intense. Ronan groans; his
thrusts grow shorter, his rhythm irregular. Faster we move,
and faster still.
He reaches between us and takes my penis in his
hand, squeezing, stroking. I lift my hips, shoving myself
into his fist, eager for more. A whole new wave of heat
flows through me, each time his fingers stroke and squeeze
me. Ohhh, such *pleasure*...
A cool human tongue licks at my throat, my cheek,
the side of my neck. "Ah, gods, Sevek," he moans, "I'm
going to come. Please, come with me, let yourself go..."
He nips at my earlobe, then buries his face in my neck,
nuzzling and sucking. With every thrust he touches that
same spot deep within me; with every stroke of his hand on
my sex the pleasure and the pressure grow stronger still. I
feel him swell inside me, start to shudder and twitch...
Finally he shouts and arches his back, filling me with his
seed. The heat and the sudden fullness is yet another
pleasure -- and suddenly I am swept into the swirling
madness of climax, crying out, convulsing, spraying us both
with my own hot flood.
It has never been like this before, *never.* That
is my only thought as blackness rises and sweeps over me,
washing my awareness away.
-----///-----
End part two
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Enjoy...
Greywolf the Wanderer
itinerant writer and Vulcan biker punk
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