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The captain of the Enterprise strolled across a moonlit glen, marveling once more at the beauty and serenity of what he had begun to think of as the Shore Leave planet. The place had been disturbing at first but once he'd learned that it was an amusement park whose "entertainments" were tuned to thought patterns, he'd granted staggered leave to the crew.
He smiled to himself, remembering the people and events of the past few hours. He knew that they had been delivered at his wishes, but some of them had appeared almost before he was even aware that he was thinking of them. It was a unique experience, one he wouldn't mind exploring further. But...
It must be after midnight ship's time, he sternly reminded himself. I should get back to the Enterprise. Can't leave poor Spock in charge forever.
As he reached for his communicator, a familiar figure stepped out from behind a tree.
"Decided to see what all the excitement's about? Well, good for you. I was just heading back so I'll leave you to it."
The communicator fell from Kirk's hand as he was pulled into a passionate embrace.
The Vulcan quickly backed Kirk up against a tree and pressed his mouth to the stunned human's.
Having longed for this for over three years, Kirk's first reaction was the one he'd always told himself was the only response possible. *No*. Starfleet frowned on intimate relations with those under your command, and even if Command didn't, Kirk's personal policy had always been "Don't." It was hard enough ordering people into dangerous situations. That sort of involvement would only...
Wait a minute. This isn't real.
Hard hands rubbed his chest and his nipples jumped to attention.
Kirk threw his arms around Spock's shoulders and pulled him close, glorying in the heat and pressure of that deceptively slender body. Suddenly his nostrils were invaded by the delicious and surprising smell of the Vulcan's skin.
Almond. Kirk chuckled to himself. Interesting choice.
Kirk tasted gold and copper as a hot tongue explored his mouth. Fiery fingertips traced his jaw and ran through his hair. A strong body pressed itself full length against his own.
Soon they were locked in an erotic dance of darting tongues, roving hands, and grinding hips. Panting and moaning, they rushed forward eagerly, as if afraid to linger and enjoy any of it.
Spock reached inside Kirk's collar and the captain gasped as his shirt was torn down the front, exposing his chest to the cool night breeze. Hungry lips pressed to the base of his throat and he heard a midnight voice murmur, "Jim."
The sensuous mouth worked its way down his body, stopping to allow sharp teeth to tease an aching nipple, pausing just long enough for a tongue could tickle his navel. Then his pants were unfastened and pushed down to his thighs. And oh! Strong hands touched him, clutched his buttocks, massaged his thighs, spread his legs.
"Spock," he moaned as he dug his nails into the tree bark.
As he knelt in front of his commanding officer, Spock lowered his head and his hair grazed Kirk's throbbing cock.
"Do that again," the captain pleaded.
The dark silk was drawn once again across his groin and Kirk closed his eyes and gave himself over to pure pleasure. Fantasy or reality, it didn't matter. It was what he wanted.
Kirk reached down and wrapped the soft locks around his shaft. Then Spock turned his head and Kirk almost came as the head of his penis brushed the sharp tip of a Vulcan ear.
Suddenly, Spock stood and removed his own shirt. Kirk watched breathlessly as his first officer tore off his boots and pants. Then the captain felt his entire body draw tight as the Vulcan's double-ridged cock sprang free.
Kirk knew nothing of Vulcan sexuality, had no idea what Spock might enjoy or detest, but he knew that he wanted to take that beautiful organ in his mouth more than he'd ever wanted anything.
He stumbled to the ground and pressed his lips to the head.
Kirk ran his tongue around the first ridge, then the second, delighting in the sharp sounds that drew in response. He repeated the motions, lingering repeatedly over any spot that made Spock quiver. Slowly, he licked all the way down the shaft and lapped at the balls. Then with exquisite tenderness, he took the Vulcan's organ into his mouth.
The taste of almond was very strong and Kirk's passion responded to that sweetness. He sucked gently at first, then harder, relishing Spock's guttural moans. And the delicious denial as his own cock demanded satisfaction. A satisfaction he was prepared to wait for.
He put his hands on Spock's ass and pushed, forcing that long rod all the way down his throat. Spock cried out and arched and Kirk was sure the Vulcan would come but instead, he pulled away.
Spock fell to the ground, taking Kirk with him, and they grappled hungrily until finally, their eager cocks rubbed against each other.
Kirk felt an unfamiliar moisture coating his groin. It took him a second to realize that it was pre-ejaculate, much thicker and warmer than his own. He heard Spock gasping words he couldn't understand and then a sudden fiery spurt of effervescent liquid bathed his stomach.
Kirk trembled as he felt that bubbly potion being smeared over his cock and balls. Then Vulcan hands carefully explored his body, sparking a ravenous flame everywhere they touched.
A smooth tongue circled his ear and Kirk suddenly realized how...alien...he must seem to Spock. Warm lips dragged slowly across his temple and traced the curve of his eyebrows. Alien indeed. And Spock seemed determined to taste every foreign bit of him.
Then Kirk remembered that this was his *science officer.* What the hell did he expect?
As gentle fingertips studied the head of his cock, he clenched his teeth and thought, If he says, "Fascinating," I'll kill him.
"Salt," Spock murmured as he kissed Kirk just below the ear.
Then Spock's fingers were exploring new territory, parting the captain's cheeks and tickling his anus. All with a contemplative slowness that drove Kirk to the edge of climax. Gasping, he thrust his hips towards his seducer.
"Jim," Spock whispered. "Please...do not come yet."
Kirk twisted and moaned against the Vulcan's shoulder.
"Please, Jim. This is too good to end so soon."
Strong hands held him down and the exploration continued. Kirk shuddered as lips moved slowly down his neck, onto his chest, his belly, yes, lower--what? No more? Ah! Sharp teeth were nipping at his toes now, then gnawing his legs, nibbling his thighs, yes higher--higher--
Kirk felt a mouth press wetly against his cock and heard the sound of soft kisses on tender flesh. Then the tip of a pointed tongue traced the engorged veins and curled around the head. And finally, at last, a mouth--scorching hot--closed around his aching arousal and sucked.
"Spock," he moaned, wishing he knew some other name for his beautiful Vulcan, something he'd never said before, something more intimate. A name for a lover.
The almost unbearably gentle suction and Spock's carefully controlled actions were such new thrills that Kirk almost came from *not* receiving enough stimulation. Desperate to know all of the Vulcan's passion, Kirk was very close to begging for more when Spock sat up and the human found himself staring into cool dark eyes that were clouded with desire.
The first officer knelt between the captain's legs and lowered himself. Writhing under the scorching heat, Kirk realized another thing he hadn't known about Vulcan sexuality--Spock was hard again.
Kirk soared into a mad pleasure of darkness and light, flying so fast that he didn't know which sensation sent him there--the hard cock rubbing against his own or the sound of that voice, deep and wild as the ocean.
"Jim. You are cool air in the desert."
Then Spock's tongue was in his mouth and, tasting their mingled essences in a kiss, Kirk knew what he meant.
Arms stronger than any he'd felt before closed around him as their cocks rubbed violently in an impassioned battle for release. Then, as their cries pierced the darkness, human and Vulcan exploded in the hungry embrace of a need finally met.
When Kirk woke up, he was sticky, dirty, and cold. But happy. He sat up and realized he was also alone. And suddenly he wasn't so happy.
As he struggled to his feet, he thought grumpily, You'd think a planet as smart as this one could have pulled up my pants. Or removed them.
He hunted around until he found his communicator. When he contacted the Enterprise for beam-up, Spock responded with his usual efficiency.
"The last of the crew has returned to the ship, captain," Lieutenant Uhura reported.
"Very good. Lay in a course for Quadrant 904, Mr. Chekov."
"Mr. Sulu. Take us out of orbit."
Kirk sat back in the command seat and glanced over at the science officer.
I should probably feel guilty, he thought, repressing a smile. It was like I...used him. But it wasn't him, it was just a figment of my imagination.
The captain chuckled quietly. I didn't know I had that much imagination.
His happy mood lasted until lunch.
The captain and first officer sat across from each other at a table in the officers' mess. For once they were both eating salads, Spock because it was his preference and Kirk because McCoy had laid down the law about the captain's diet. And because the doctor had gotten some anonymous midshipman to reprogram the food synthesizers so that no matter what the captain ordered, he received the CMO's prescribed nourishment.
Kirk sighed and wished he could ask someone to get him a hamburger.
Suddenly, the room tilted violently and both men were thrown to the floor. Kirk scrambled to his feet and slammed his fist against the comm unit.
"Scotty, what the hell was that?"
"We caught the tail end of an ion storm, sir."
Lieutenant Uhura's voice broke in. "Uhura here, sir. All decks reporting in. Minor injuries only, sir."
"All right. Mr. Scott, give that storm a wide berth."
"Captain." Spock was at his side, unruffled as ever. "You're bleeding."
The Vulcan pressed his dinner napkin to the captain's forehead.
Kirk stiffened and said, "Thank you, Mr. Spock. I'll have Dr. McCoy take a look at it."
The captain left the mess hall and strode to the turbolift, refusing to give in to the urge to run. When he heard the doors slide shut behind him, he closed his eyes and listened to the pounding of his heart. Then, with trembling hands, he brought the soft, white napkin to his face and inhaled deeply. Something inside of him tumbled as he smelled the faint scent of almonds.
"Well, captain, I must say I'm surprised. I can't remember the last time you came into sickbay with something as simple as a cut on your forehead."
His mind a couple of parsecs away, Kirk didn't respond promptly to the doctor's teasing.
"I said you usually wait until you have something really challenging for me."
"Maybe I've finally taken your lectures to heart."
"Hmph. That'll be the day. All right, you're through. Easiest piece of work I've ever done."
Kirk jumped off the diagnostic couch.
"Thanks, Bones." He headed to the door and turned thoughtfully. "Bones. On that planet yesterday, did you meet anyone you thought might be real?"
The ship's surgeon grinned. "I met a few I wished were real. And a couple I'm glad weren't."
"But if the planet got information for those entertainments from our thoughts, how did it come up with details we didn't know?"
"Well...What if you met someone there...someone you recognize but you've never...heard his voice. And this person spoke to you. And then later you found out that, in reality, he sounds exactly like he did on the planet. What would you think?"
"I'm not sure. I would be inclined to think that at some point, I *did* hear this person speak and my conscious mind had simply forgotten about it."
Was it possible? Surely he would remember something as surprising and distinctive as almonds.
"Jim, can we drop the hypotheticals? Who did you meet?"
Kirk brushed the question off lightly. "It's nothing, Bones. I'm just...letting my imagination get the better of me."
The captain settled into the command seat and frowned.
If Spock really does smell like almonds, surely I would've noticed it before this. But I can hardly ask my first officer if I can sniff him. And what would that prove anyway? Most species produce some sort of scent during arousal.
But how did it get on the napkin? Was Spock aroused during lunch? Impossible. No salad was that good.
Perhaps the smell is always present but is only produced in *noticeable* quantity during arousal. If that were the case, could a cloth napkin resting in his lap pick up the smell? Possibly.
Thinking back to the encounter on the planet, the captain came to another disturbing realization. When compared to the other, er, "people" he'd met on the planet, "Spock" had been more...there. He had done and said things that genuinely surprised Kirk and that shouldn't have happened, should it?
But it couldn't really have been Spock. No. Why would the first officer beam down to the planet, make love to his captain, and disappear?
If it was real, there was evidence. The semen stains on his clothing, for instance.
Oh yes, Captain Kirk could just imagine taking that to the lab and asking for an analysis. What would he say when a grinning Dr. Enos delivered his report?
"Thank you, doctor. I needed to know if I boffed the first officer."
No, lab analysis was not an option. And besides, that lousy planet probably manufactured the real thing.
Check the transporter log. But the senior officers didn't always log those things promptly. And sometimes not at all.
Ask Spock. Oh, that would be an interesting conversation. Immediately followed by a request for transfer.
Suddenly he was struck by an even more disturbing thought. What if Spock had beamed down to the planet, specifically for the purpose of living a fantasy of his own? A fantasy involving his commanding officer? Was it possible that it was really Spock but Spock thought it wasn't really Kirk?
The captain was getting a headache.
At the end of alpha shift, the Enterprise's two top officers stepped into the turbolift. The doors slid shut and, trying to look casual, Kirk inhaled slowly through his nose. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing. Perhaps--
"Captain, are you experiencing respiratory distress?"
"No, Mr. Spock. It's a...relaxation exercise."
Kirk glanced over at his first officer. Spock's face was as impassive and unreadable as ever. Making a sudden decision and acting before he could second-guess himself, Kirk stopped the turbolift and faced the Vulcan.
"To what are you referring, captain?"
"Nothing, Mr. Spock. Never mind."
Spock calmly placed himself between the captain and the turbolift control.
"To what are you referring, captain?" he repeated.
"Last night...on the planet surface...I, uh, I thought you...Were you there, Spock?"
The Vulcan hoisted an eyebrow and thought for a beat.
"Jim, I cannot answer your question based on the information you have provided. However, I will say this. I am here now."
And the captain found himself being kissed fervently, tasting gold and copper, and smelling the sweet warm scent of almonds.
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