by Delta Story
by Delta Story
"So… are we going to the party?" he asked.
"What is your advice, Commander?" she queried with great seriousness.
"I think that we… might be a little bit too much for the rest of the crew," he responded.
"My feelings also," she said. "But here we are… dressed in our party finest…"
"Are you suggesting something, Captain?"
"Only if you'll stop calling me that and let me hear my name…"
"Would you like to have a party… but with just the two of us?" he whispered, daring to move within her private space.
"Perhaps that could be arranged," she murmured, welcoming his increasing closeness.
"There's just one thing, Kathryn…"
"What's that?" she managed to say as his lips approached hers.
"Any refreshments will have to come out of your replicator credits; I used all mine up on this… shirt…"
"Who says we'll need anything from the replicator?" she asked, pulling his lips down to hers.
He trembled as they made this first contact. Their hands… familiar hands which had touched each other so many times and so many ways before… hands which now became new and strange… smooth and rough… strong and tender… searching and grasping… shaking and quivering as they embarked on their new journey.
Her lips, for so long steely and stern and forbidden now were like warm honey, filling and anointing and sweetening his lips… his mouth. Her touch… for so long platonic and comforting and teasing now seared into him… filled him with the fire of a thousand suns… drew him with the pull of an anti-universe… pulling him ever more into her… consuming him for eternity. Yet he willingly succumbed to her energy and power, wanting nothing more than to be part of her. A flicker of a thought floated through him, but soon was lost - he wanted to ask her… why… why now… after all the other opportunities of earlier years? But the question became lost in the whirling emotions rapidly engulfing him.
All the hesitation and uncertainly she felt until only seconds ago flowed from her… into him as his arms encircled her body. The girth of his larger body became her shield… her comforter… a barrier against all the fears and doubts of years past. She felt herself being drawn into him, allowing him to become her protector… to be part of her.
A silent sigh opened her lips, opening her more to him… offering more to him. They hungrily tasted each other, drinking of private nectars, exploring long-hidden tastes. Wordless but not without sound, they continued exploring the new-found treasures of their beings, touching and tasting, delighting in the salty muskiness of each other, surrounded by primal scents.
Soon lips and mouths and tongues and sighs were not enough. Clothing lovingly prepared especially for tonight became worthless and irrelevant. Prior plans disappeared in the wake of the rising tide of emotions, swept away, transient bubbles on a beach. Hungry but not wanting to miss the new sensation and delights of every delicacy that they presented to one another, they gently pealed off the inhibiting layers of clothing.
He sat down on the low couch in her living area and she knelt to tug off the snug boots. While she attended to him, he slid the scarf from around her neck, briefly using its length to pull her away from her task and drawing her close to him for yet another searching kiss. As she concentrated on the boots, he gently pulled the straps of her dress off her silky shoulders, caressing her skin with his broad thumbs and fingers. Once the close-fitting boots were off, he reached around her waist and pulled her up, burying his face into the soft roundness of her stomach, covered by its red wrapping. She burrowed her face into the dark tresses of his hair, drinking in its depth and texture and taste. His hands found themselves reaching for the closure panel of her dress; with nervous fingers, he managed to begin to free her of its constraints. Her hands were unbuttoning his shirt with a dexterity that she did not know she had.
So simple… yet so elegant. She stood before him, clad only in simple undergarments. She wore no stockings; the only coverings on her feet were the plain black fabric pumps that he had seen many times before. She stood before him looking as nothing he had ever seen before, a radiant butterfly just emerging from her cocoon. Her body glowed with the sheen of sexual anticipation; her stance was one of invitation and yet conquest - sure and demure and inquisitive at the same time. His face was mere centimeters from the font of her femininity, which, although hidden, was already full and open and inviting. A wet warmth permeated from the triangle of thin material between her legs. The temptation was too great, his need too overpowering - he tentatively glided a finger underneath the soft cloth covering, only to be anointed by her rich thick wetness. He moved his other hand behind her, supporting her at the waist and slid the finger... then a second one… into the opening awaiting him.
They uttered mutual groans as the sensation overtook both of them. She rocked backwards, her legs involuntarily pulling further apart, wanting more and more of him. His arm flexed and firmed, catching her as she fell backwards, securing her in his strong grip.
"Maybe… maybe we should move somewhere... else…" he moaned huskily, his fevered cheek resting on her thrusting pelvis. He hesitatingly withdrew his fingers, with her thick moisture reluctant to release him.
She braced her hands on his shoulders, now bare where she had pulled down his shirt. "Ye… yes…" she barely got out, swallowing air in small gasps, caught in the throws of pending orgasm.
While still supporting her with one arm, he reached under her firm buttocks and picked her up. Again a brief thought flickered across his muddled mind, noting how small she really was, nothing like the imposing figure she appeared to be as she sat next to him every day on the bridge. Still engulfed with small tremors, she buried her head into the burnished firm flesh of his shoulder, her arms now encircling his muscular neck.
He carried her the few paces from the living area to her sleeping area and gently placed her on top of the blue and gold spread covering her bed. The contrast of her porcelain skin with the deep blue of the covering painted an ethereal picture that he had never seen before, even in his dreams. The only light in the room came from the starlight that came streaming through the window opposite her bed. The gentle beams washed across her face, shining with the inner glow of her beauty… and love… as she smiled dreamily up at him. She sighed, stretching her arms above her head, lost in the sensations of the reality of the situation.
He stood there for several minutes, entranced in the vision of splendor that she presented. He reached down and gently extracted the shoes from her feet; she wiggled her toes at him and he couldn't help but smile - it seemed as if every fiber in her was suddenly released from its confining bonds and reveling in its new freedom.
"Come here," she smiled up at him, breaking the silence, her eyes glazed with rising passions. He sat down on the edge of the bed and did not protest as she continued to pull the voluminous shirt from off his broad torso. When the last bit of its material became free of his body, she quickly but deftly slid the shirt under the side of the bed. She reached up and allowed her fingers to begin to dance down his smooth chest, pirouetting and prancing, lightly touching then gathering him into her grasp. His eyes closed in reverie, mesmerized in the silent music, lost in the rhythms of her flesh. Then… he drew in a staccato breath as her fingers played with his nipples, arousing and teasing them to the full attention of her demands.
"Kathryn…" he feebly cried out. But the sounds were lost as she continued her journey. Undaunted by the snug waistband of his pants, she deftly unfastened them and continued with the downward choreography of her movements. As she found the heated object of her search, not only were his nipples firm and erect, but so, too, was the velvet shaft of his manhood, standing at attention, awaiting her inspection. Her hand knowingly encircled the erect tower of flesh and slowly began a new dance… a new rhythm… as it ran up and down the hot, hard surface.
"Wait," he moaned, covering and stilling her nimble fingers with his hand. "Too… too fast…" She understood and released him.
He weakly stood up beside the bed and pulled off his trousers and undershorts. The starlight from the window shone behind him, giving his body a strange haloed appearance, dark and foreboding against the flickering, iridescent light. An animal heat radiated from him, its warmth surrounding them like an invisible blanket. His hand replaced hers, grasping the heaviness of his tumescence, holding it like an offering to her.
She understood his plea… knew that he could not do anything more to help her in her undressing, as he stood there entrapped by his stimulated body. Even though she felt paralyzed by her own throbbing passion, she raised her torso slightly and managed to unfasten her bra and toss it aside. She raised her hips and flexed her legs, easing off the thin fabric of her wet underpants, adding them to the growing pile of clothing by the bed. Slowly she lowered her legs, then grasped the flesh of his hips and drew him towards her, urging his body to join hers on the blue-covered surface of the bed.
Chakotay took a small breath; a slight smile appeared on his passion-thickened lips. Words - difficult to articulate - made their way to her ears. "Kathryn…" his words echoed huskily, "no more Starfleet; let's… let's move aside the cover…"
Her eyes languidly opened, caught in the irony of the situation. "Yes," she nodded. "No more… now… ever…" She rolled to the side of the bed and deftly pulled her legs to the edge, placing her feet to the floor. In a single graceful yet swift and determined movement, she rose from the bed and with a rapid jerk, she completely removed the Starfleet blue that still stood between them. She flung the offensive reminder to the far side of the room, leaving only the pristine pastel of the sheets to welcome the lovers within their embrace.
"Much better," he smiled back. "I don't want any more excuses." His hands firmly directed her backwards onto the bed; he pulled her legs onto the surface. "No more excuses this time, Kathryn," he smiled as he placed his muscular legs in-between the pale pinkness of her smaller ones, gently urging them further apart.
"No more," she whispered back, her eyes closing in reverie as she guided his hips lower. "Never…"
She was slick and hot as he entered her, waiting and ready for him, as he never could have imagined. The muscles of her smooth tunnel encircled him and embraced him, welcoming him into her softness, drawing him into her even more as he continued with his unrelenting entry. She raised her legs, encircling him, allowing them to clasp his pummeling body. Deeper he went and more she opened, accepting him into her fullness. He didn't want to leave her, but the primal instinct compelled him to withdraw and enter again, as if telling him that indeed this was real and no longer a deep fantasy buried within the subliminal caverns of his mind.
Again and again… his momentum grew as she yielded more and more, welcoming him with unfathomable desire. Sultry breaths warmed and moistened the air, as the entire room became part of their consummation. Neither walls nor ship bulkheads could contain the long-denied passion that swirled in cosmic spirals through them and around them; in these timeless moments, they journeyed beyond the edges of the universe, into that area where time and space, mind and soul are one. Echoes of their primal screams reached out into the ethers of space, assimilated into the silences of infinity.
She awoke first, suddenly cognizant of the weight and wet heat of his body on top of hers. How long had her subconscious desires played out this very scene, always to be tangled among the cobwebs of her mind? The air was heavy with the aura of their lovemaking - sweet and pungent, musky and acrid. Gone was the freshness of her earlier grooming ritual… gone was the identity of this space being hers alone. Now, It was theirs… and it would be forever.
She wanted to move him, but she couldn't bear to lose the burden of his somnolent body, its burden one she now gladly wanted to bear. An ancient phrase flitted into her senses, its original context lost over the centuries: He ain't heavy; he's my brother. Her passion-satiated thoughts quickly transposed the words into: He's not heavy; he's my lover.
She chuckled with the thought and gently rolled him off to her side, allowing her hands to feel the solid strength of his body. Even relaxed, his body had a vigilant firmness which reminded her of his vow of long ago to always be her warrior, to protect her from all harm. She sighed, remembering the numerous times when he had been just that - disagreeing with her, rebutting her lopsided schemes… but always there to protect her. Looking at him now, in his childlike sleep, she knew that he had always loved her, content to ever walk behind her, serving in her shadow… if that were the only way to be with her.
How long had she loved him? She couldn't even remember the first time she felt the long-suppressed emotions. Certainly they came into full fruition during that time on New Earth; but, deep inside, she knew they had taken hold of her long before that. Discipline… the ship… the crew… always they were there, reminding her of her pledged responsibilities.
He sighed and shifted his position somewhat, lying more on his back now with one leg draped over the other. She raised herself on her forearm and dared to reach out with her other hand, to touch the shimmering bronze of his thigh. He quivered at her touch and she drew back. Smiling, she reached out again.
As her fingers made contact with his skin a second time, his hand darted out and grabbed hers. "Once isn't enough?" he murmured low and playfully, pulling her towards him, cradling her on top of his prone body.
She felt stirrings and changes under her and began undulating her torso over his. "Your suggestion, not mine," she smiled back, sneaking her hand between their bodies and grasping his ever-growing member. "And you've put me back in charge," she said as she quickly raised her body, lowering herself onto his fullness, allowing him to slide into her waiting cleft.
He moaned as she leaned back and began a slow progression to sensual oblivion again. This time, she fell asleep on top of him, and he silently savored her corporeal richness while drifting off into his own emotional exhaustion.
They both awoke with a start, wrapped in each other's arms. One of the sheets partially covered them.
"What time is it?" she asked, as if their current state was a normal occurrence.
He strained to look over her shoulder at the digital readout of the chronometer. "Mmmm… looks like it's close to midnight."
"Do you… do you think we should still consider an appearance at the party?"
He rolled onto his back, taking her hand into his. "Good question. Since neither of us has shown up, people might be second-guessing us already."
"So what you're saying is… that either way… whether we do or don't show up… there will be hell to pay," she smirked.
"Yep, it sort of looks that way," he answered, rolling towards her and kissing the tip of her nose. "What do you think? Should we face the music…"
"…and dance?" she concluded. Sighing deeply, she continued. "Besides… knowing the good doctor, he's probably been more than vocal about the fact that he 'made' me a dress and I haven't even bothered to show up wearing it…"
"And since Seven is the one who put you up to all of this, she probably has added a few thoughts of her own about practical applications," Chakotay chuckled.
"Oh, I think we did pretty well in making our own 'practical applications," she smiled, tracing his lips with her fingers before kissing him deeply.
Chakotay groaned. "Ungh… Kathryn, please… don't… I'm not as young as I used to be!"
"Couldn't prove it by me," she smiled. "But you're right; we should probably make an appearance and get all of this out of the way." She suddenly swung her legs around and sat on the edge of the bed, looking around, shaking her head. "However - from the looks of things - we better do a bit of cleaning up around here before we do anything else!"
"It probably wouldn't hurt for us to jump in and out of the shower before we go, either," he added.
"What? You don't think that our… 'animal magnetism' would be welcomed?"
"Oh, I'm sure there's an abundance of - shall we say - 'hormonal aura' hanging over the holodeck by now. But they probably don't need any more added," he laughed.
"Race you to the shower!" she said, getting the head start.
He didn't even try to follow her. Instead, he fell back onto the pillows, content and glowing with the satisfaction of seeing her so marvelously free at last.
Refreshed and repaired and in their costumes du jour, Kathryn and Chakotay reached the doors of the holodeck. Briefly… silently, they looked at each other before entering the area. His eyes asked the question one final time; she quickly and firmly nodded her assent.
The doors opened to reveal that the party had peaked, serving its purpose. Through the dimmed light, the four-dozen or so couples had broken down into cozy twosomes and foursomes who sought their own private places within the replicated scene. Although the 'swoosh' of the opening doors was hidden by the mellow music floating over the area, somehow just about everyone knew that latecomers had arrived… and most of them conjectured correctly whom they might be.
The couple stood in the portal opening, barely breathing, appraising the silent reactions of their crew. He stood behind her, one hand around her waist, drawing her close, feeling protective, while his other hand gently rested on her shoulder. His dark eyes beamed down on her, with a smile that appeared to be etched as permanently on his face as his dark tattoo. She sighed and leaned her head against his chest, grinning with a satisfaction that no one could ever remember seeing before, allowing happiness and liberatation to flood her totally.
No words need be said… for everyone knew. Nods and sighs and tears throughout the room broke the tension of the moment. The old rules had been revised and rewritten; now… there were new resolutions to be kept.
~ FINIS ~