Musings in the Dark: Combat (4)


Combat (4)

4.  Skin

The next night, Sheila skipped her combat lesson.  K’avir wanted to work on another style of fighting, but she didn’t want to see him.  She was tired and all she wanted was to have a cup of tea, a hot shower and go to bed.  She worked a double shift and told her subordinates that unless it was a diehard emergency, she would not report to duty the next day.  The captain approved her absence, as she had yet to miss a shift and had earned a day off.

She took a hot, hot shower and put on her favorite T-shirt and curled up on her bed with a cup of hot lemon tea.  She shook out her long twists and sighed, wishing she had a better dildo than the one currently stashed in her nightstand.  The next time they were planet-side, she was going to find some kind of sex shop and get some new toys.  Sheila was so frustrated and masturbating could only take a woman so far.  She needed a hard man, a hard body in her bed.  Maybe Marlena had been right to get with Commander Kenner.  There was something to be said about in-house dick, except when it couldn’t stay hard.

Her door chimed.  She got off the bed and put on her robe, securing it.  “Come in!”

To her utter surprise, it was her instructor.  Sheila stared at him for a long moment, forgetting her manners.  But it was warranted as K’avir never visited anyone’s quarters at any time.  He practically lived in Security when he wasn’t with the captain or instructing the other ladies.

“Doctor,” he said.

She blinked, wondering if she was dreaming.  “K’avir, what are you doing here?”

“You missed your lesson,” he said.   “I waited for fifteen minutes and twenty-six point two seconds.  Since you are always on time, I became concerned.”

“It’s called a double shift,” Sheila said, glaring at him.  She was horny and irritable and his presence was playing hell with her nerves.  “And I’m tired, all right?  I’ll make it up tomorrow.”

“That is unacceptable,” he said, staring at her.  Her hair was down and she smelled of jade.  She was almost naked and so very alluring.  He had never seen her like that before.

“I don’t give a shit if it is, K’avir.  I’m tired.  Now you’ve said what you came to say, so please get out.  I need to get off my feet.”


“You’re the first Vulcan I know who’s hard of hearing.  Get out.  Go!  Leave me alone!”

He stood there, quiet and impassive, staring at her hard from where her robe stopped on down.  Sheila knew better than to try and push him out.  He was just a like a brick wall, stubborn, obstinate, immovable…hard, firm, abdominals like bricks, eyes shining like newly-minted pennies…she really  needed to get laid.  She turned away from him.

“Dr. Stephens, I have been instructed to train you in—”

She sighed.  It was his default setting.  He was Vulcan, a fucking telepath, and he had touched her enough in their sessions to know that she was attracted to him or at least wanted the chance to jump on his dick and ride off into space.

Did he know that?  Or was he trained to ignore such things, being that women lusted after him.

“K’avir, please.  I’m too tired to fight with you tonight.  My feet hurt and I just want to lie down.  Leave.  Please.”

He took in the sight of her room, the disorderliness of a busy, complicated woman.  Women were convoluted, emotional beings, unable to express their needs succinctly.  Instead, they had to wrap it up in layers of rationale and justification when it wasn’t necessary.  Sheila was translucent and her emotions were loud and bright, but he was Vulcan and a professional and it was illogical and…

Sheila closed her eyes and stuck her fist between her breasts.  She would start going to either Turock or Shavik for lessons.  She couldn’t deal with him anymore.  It was too much.  “If you don’t mind, could you get the fuck out of here?”

Then he was in front of her.  She gasped.  He picked her up like she weighed nothing and sat her on her dresser, knocking bottles and jars to the floor.

“K’avir, what the fuck are you doing?”  The moment he put his hands on her, she felt as if little gold bees started buzzing in her blood stream.

“I notice that you use that word a lot,” he said, trying not to put his hands on her lush brown thighs.  Trying to maintain his discipline, trying to remember who and what he was, trying to keep from doing everything he was doing.  “My understanding is that the tone in which you use it denotes tension and frustration.”

Sheila was breathing hard and deliberately ignore the last part of his statement.  “So?  I’ve been talking like this since before you started training me, so are you going to try and change me now?  If you are, you are in for a hell of a surprise!”

“I hope so,” he murmured, staring at her throat.  “I would never try to change you, Sheila.”  His hands moved of their own accord to her knees.  “I prefer you just the way you are.”

She blinked. Did he just call her by her name?  He didn’t. 

Did he?

Then she had to think about the situation.  K’avir was in her suite, standing in front of her, his hands on her bare knees.  She closed her eyes and felt herself get hot all over.  The bees in her blood were buzzing loud and began to radiate from her core.  She was so damned horny.  ‘I can’t control it,’ she thought.  ‘I can’t even stop myself.’  But she had to try.  “K’avir, did you just use my name?”

“Affirmative,” he said, his hands moving up her thighs.  His control was dwindling.

“I thought that—” Sheila watched his fingers undo the knot on her robe as if time was in slow motion.  He wasn’t undressing her, was he?

 Was he?

“Do not think,” he said.  “I cannot help but respond to you.”

“What?”  She was befuddled.  “All you’ve ever done is maintain your detachment, your discipline, your…” She moaned as he grabbed her foot.

“I can no longer do that,” he said.  “You stimulate me.”  He began massaging her foot, staring at the dark red color of her toes, amazed that she could keep them smooth and nearly callus-free in her line of work and training.  He ran his thumbs over her instep and moved his fingers over, around and between her toes.

Sheila’s breathing hitched.  K’avir was touching her; she was damn near naked at her combat instructor had his hands on her in a way he’d never had before.  “K’avir,” she murmured, staring at his large hands—thank goodness he had the hands of a man,  not some bitch-ass doctor—moving over her foot.  She spared a moment of thanks that she had taken the time to paint her toenails the other night.  Sheila thought she’d better warn him.  “K’avir, do you know what you are doing?”

He met her eyes.  “A Vulcan always knows what he is doing.”

She closed her eyes as he massaged her other foot.  His hands were warm and she stopped thinking and started feeling…

“You have beautiful feet,” he said, taking an ankle in each hand.  He massaged them hard, feeling her go limp.  “I will relieve your tension.”

Her breathing constricted.  “I hope that…you aren’t doing this…just to get me…to come to…my lesson…”

“I daresay that you are not dressed for combat,” he said.  “Your opponent would be prone to divest you of your shirt.”  Her nipples poked up like the knobs on his security console.  He stared at them, wondering how they looked, how they tasted.

How did she taste?  Sheila’s scent was intoxicating; he had wondered many times if she was as sweet as she smelled.  He wasn’t going to leave until he found out, for he had to know.

K’avir was at her calves now, fingers kneading the stiffness away.  Sheila kept her eyes closed and sighed.  “I would never…let my opponent…get this close…”

“I beg to differ,” he murmured, moving his hands to her knees.  Her T-shirt stopped nowhere above her thighs and he could smell her arousal.  “I am your opponent, always your opponent…and you have allowed me to make it to here…”

He started kissing her thighs.  She gasped and opened her eyes.  “K’avir, K’avir…I must…you must…I—I…”

“Stop talking,” he said.  He parted her legs a little wider and took a deep breath.  “You can speak to me in another language.”

“Shit,” she moaned, thinking that she would come the moment he put his mouth on her.  His lips were smooth and soft; his tongue pointy and warm.  Then he was picking her up again, putting her back down on the floor.  Her robe slid off and pooled around her ankles.

“K’avir, what are you…” Her sex seemed to roll over and beg.  She swallowed.  She was supposed to be better, stronger than this, but four years was four years…

“I cannot get complete access with you in that position,” he said.  “I want it.  I want to have all of you.  You will let me have you in this manner?  I must know your taste.”  He was already on his knees and before she could respond, he had her thighs over his shoulder and her lips in his mouth.  He moved his hands under her shirt to fondle her breasts.  Sheila couldn’t get over the fact that she was perched on K’avir’s shoulders and he was eating her out and squeezing her tits.  Was she dreaming?

 ‘Fuck,’ she thought, control gone.  ‘Just take it, you sexy bastard.  You can have anything you wish.’

“Good,” she heard him say.  She forgot that he was a telepath. 

Her breasts spilled over his hands and they were soft and cushiony and her nipples firm… she felt so good; his tongue was a magnificent warm paintbrush, tonguing her clit and laving her labia with broad strokes.  And then he would pull them in his mouth and suck hard; she tasted divine…no Vulcan could resist this

Sheila bit her lip and closed her eyes, knowing it would take all of thirty seconds for her to explode all over his face; she was that hard-up.  And it took him about three strong licks and two good sucks before she did precisely that.  She keened, pushing against his face as she came, embarrassed that she hadn’t lasted a full minute.  What must he think of her?

“I think we are only just beginning,” he said as he licked the juice from in between her legs while squeezing her breasts.  “Do not be embarrassed, for I am fully aware of your circumstances.” His voice was somewhat muffled by her thighs.

“What?” she said, trying to be indignant.  “Is it on a fucking billboard or something?  Is my name on the wall in the men’s latrine?  For a good time, call Sheila?”

She slid off his shoulder and he rose to his feet.  Sheila stared at him; at the moisture on his cheeks and lips and the slow, deliberate way he seemed to lick her off.  And just like that, she was horny again.

“Of course not,” K’avir said, staring down at her.

Sheila looked up at him.  He was a beautiful, fascinating man.  Part of her couldn’t believe that he was here and this was happening.  She blinked to be sure and then started to get a hold of herself.  She was Sheila Darlene Stephens, damn it, and she could handle this fine son-of-a-bitch.  “I guess it is, if you’re going to fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?”  He put his hands on her hips and started lifting her T-shirt.  She was naked underneath, wonderfully, gloriously naked.  “I would prefer it if you were truthful with me, Sheila.”

She loved the way he said her name.  “Yes.  I want you to fuck me, K’avir.  I need you to fuck me.  I need it; it’s been years since the last time…and I don’t need to you bullshit around with it—”

“Vulcans do not do such things,” he murmured and kissed her.  She stood on her toes and kissed him back, throwing her arms around his neck.  Her body pressed into his and she was grateful at how solid and secure K’avir was.  He broke the kiss and removed her shirt, carelessly tossing it behind him.  He stared down at her beautiful curvy body, which still bore the evidence of their combat.  It turned him on to see her bruises and he had to tell her the truth.

“I am…aroused when you fight me,” he said, moving his hands to her breasts.  “I am attracted— very —to women who are not afraid to fight back.”

Sheila stared at him, eyes rolling from the sensation of his hands—his beautiful large hands—fondling her breasts.  “You are?”

“Very,” he said, his breathing constricting.  “I look at you and I see where you have bruised as a result of your training and I…I want you.  I cannot help myself.”

“Let me get this straight,” she murmured.  “You get horny when I hit back?  You never let me hit back!”

“Sometimes I do,” he whispered, pushing her breasts together.  They were so soft and perfectly shaped.  Her nipples reminded him of sweet dark cherries.

Sheila felt herself go and it ran down her legs in thin rivulets.  He sniffed and looked down at her.

“I’m s—” she started to say.

“Why do you apologize?”  He stared at her nipples and brought her closer.

“Because I can’t control my responses to you; I’m standing here and it’s running down my legs and you’re telling me you’ve been working me so hard because it makes you horny…”

He leaned forward and touched her forehead.  “Hit me,” he whispered.

“What?  K’avir, I can’t—”

“Hit me,” he said.  “Punch me.  Kick me.  Smash me over the head with one of those bottles on your dresser.  Fight me off, Sheila.”

Sheila widened her eyes.  “K’avir, I don’t want to—”.

“Please,” he said, breathing in her ear, pressing a kiss to her neck.  “Hit me.  If you can.”

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for commenting. Please be sure to leave a name; I like to know who I am talking to.