Randy
Jadzia Dax strolled into cabin 3C46 with her usual easy grace. "Hi, honey," she said as she dropped a kiss on top of the checkerboard hairdo. No matter how many lives she lived, she never would understand 23rd century women's fashion. But it sure was sexy!
Janice Rand sat cross-legged on their bed. Seeing Jadzia, she tipped her head back and puckered her full lips expectantly. She was not to be disappointed. Jadzia bent in to kiss her properly.
All good things must end sometime. Eventually they broke apart. "Hey," Janice said, reaching up behind Dax's ear. "You have something on your neck. Dirt, I think."
"Huh?" Dax said, feeling for the spot. "Oh, that. It's just a birthmark." Well, more like a re-birthmark, she rationalized. "I usually keep it laser-toned. I guess it's time for touch-up." With one swift pull she freed her hair from its upsweep and shook it loose around her shoulders to cover the telltale mark. She plopped down on the bed.
"Whatcha watching?" Jadzia asked, changing the subject. She gestured at the view screen on the wall across from the foot of the bed.
"Transporter diagnostics," said Janice. "The module on coexistent solid phase exclusionaries."
"Don't bother," Dax said. "They're going to completely redo the algorithm next year."
Janice gave her a queer look. Jadzia flinched. Shit, did it again! "I have friends at the assembly plant," she explained hopefully.
Janice looked unconvinced. "You know, I really hate it when you do that."
Jadzia opted for a segue. "Well, I was hoping to distract you. I need the screen for a while. They've intercepted some jettisoned Klingon AV logs and the captain wants a contextual translation ASAP."
Propped up against the headrest, Jadzia stretched out on the bed. She crossed her long legs at the ankles and unslung her tricorder running her finger over the smooth silver controls with a little smile.
"Take it," Janice said. "I should be cleaning up anyway." With a pat on Jadzia's thigh she got up and went to her art bench. Janice picked up a handful of abandoned paintbrushes and carried them with her into the head. A minute later she emerged with a towel in one hand and the brushes leaning up against the side of a cup.
"Hey, Janice," Jadzia called. "Come here. You've got to see this!"
"You know I don't understand Klingon," Janice complained. She dropped the towel on the headrest and began whisking the brushes around in the cup. As she stirred, a thick foam formed in the cup and rose slowly towards the rim.
"Oh, I think this sounds the same in any language," Dax said. "Look."
Janice set the container down on the headrest shelf. She climbed onto the bed and wriggled her way between Jadzia and the headrest. Wrapping her firm thighs around Jadzia's hips, she hugged her lover's back and peered around her neck.
"What is that?" she asked pointing at the fuzzy images on the dark screen.
Jadzia said, "This is, apparently, the ship's log recording of the captain's cabin." She twisted a knob on the tricorder and the bottom figure brightened considerably. "And that," she said with emphasis, "is apparently the captain's woman."
"How can you tell," Janice asked curiously.
"The Adam's apple."
"Oh, right."
Jadzia twisted another control and the screen zoomed in on the couple.
"Enthusiastic, aren't they?" observed Janice.
"Klingons never do anything half-hearted," agreed Dax.
"Can you change the angle?" Janice asked. "I want to see him moving in and out."
"It's a log recording, not a tele-cam probe," Dax said irritably. "It is a fixed view and chances are both these people are long since dead. So, no, I can't change the angle."
"Just asking," Janice pouted. She slipped one arm around Jadzia's waist and lightly fingered the tender underside of one breast. "I mean, don't you want to watch too?"
As if in answer the Klingon woman on the screen gave a guttural howl. In one fluid motion she threw off her partner and squatted to straddle him from above.
"Pushy bitch," said Janice, nuzzling at her lover's graceful neck. She rocked her pelvis suggestively and fingered the breast cupped within her hand a little harder.
"Yeah, but that's the way I like 'em," said Dax, stroking the long leg next to hers. "He better be careful, though," Dax said, studying the screen. "When Klingon women climax they have this organ that grips your penis and if you're not ready you'll be out of the baby making business for at least a week."
Janice twisted her neck to look her squarely in the face "Now how the hell would you know that?" she demanded.
"Klingon culture discussion group?" tried Dax. She looked down and fiddled madly with the tricorder.
Janice had opened her mouth as if to say something when the woman on the screen took her pendulous breasts in her own hands and began to work them furiously. "Man, she is really turning me on," said Janice, all earlier thoughts forgotten. She nudged her crotch more firmly against Jadzia's ass. Her garters strained at the movement, forcing the clips to bite into her thighs. She snuggled her own hard nipples neatly against Jadzia and sensuously slid them around and over the trill's fine back.
"Everything turns you on," noted Dax, working the tricorder for real this time. "Hold on. I missed that last bit."
"You're translating this?" Janice asked incredulously. "You can't possibly believe that Captain Kirk is interested in Klingon bedroom talk!"
Jadzia chuckled. "Actually, it wouldn't surprise me one bit. But either way, I have a job to do."
Janice raised one long leg high in the air and swiped it up and behind Jadzia's head to twist herself to the edge of the bed. Janice stood and unfastened her uni-dress letting it fall to her waist. With a wiggle she popped out of it and stepped aside. Besides her stockings and boots, she wore only a white lace thong. Standing tall and proud, she stepped between Jadzia and the screen. "Yes," Janice said with a grin. "You do."
Jadzia shook her head in amusement. "You are impossible." Considering her options, she reached over with one finger to pluck the thin strip of lace running between Janice's legs. "Take this off, " she commanded. She reached to the side and, one at a time, popped the fastenings of the garters. The black almost-regulation stockings slithered down the smooth legs to pool where boot met calf. "But leave the boots," Dax added as an afterthought
Janice crawled back on the bed behind Jadzia and repositioned herself against the headrest. She wrapped her legs around Jadzia's waist, clutching at her playfully. The black heels nipped sharply into Jadzia's inner thighs leaving hot red welts on the skin.
Jadzia slid down on the bed, trailing her thick hair sensuously over Janice's bare midriff. Squirming on her side, she let her cheek come to rest on one creamy thigh. The delicious friction of hair against skin sent a shiver down the length of Janice's spine. Compulsively she stroked the smooth dark head nestled tightly between her legs.
"Mm," murmured Jadzia. "You smell good." She nudged her nose deeper into the already glistening thatch of hair. Jadzia inhaled deeply savoring the rich female musk that surrounded her. With just the tip of her tongue she reached out for the familiar taste of her lover.
At the shock of the contact Janice's hands clenched reflexively into the pillow. She threw her head back and arched her back at the thrill racing through her groin. The woman on the screen roared once and collapsed on top of the still form beneath her.
Jadzia flipped full over onto her belly and gripped Janice's hips with her hands. With escalating eagerness she stroked her tongue over the full length of the velvety inner lips.
Janice was dissolving rapidly. She grabbed Jadzia's head and held it firmly in place. With a moan she thrust her hips forward to brush her clit repeatedly against Jadzia's upper lip. She bent her knees and squeezed her thighs in to rub rhythmically against the soft velour cover of Jadzia's shoulders. Her boots kicked into Jadzia's hips, spurring her on ever faster and faster.
Suddenly Jadzia jerked her head back. Groaning in disappointment, Janice let her hands drop. Jadzia screwed up her face and reached up to pluck something coarse off of her tongue. With a wry look she wiped the curly blonde strands off of her fingers and on to the bed sheet. Still working her tongue against her teeth, she reached up to the headrest for the towel. Her fingers brushed against the still-warm cup of suds.
"Janice," she asked seriously, "have you ever considered shaving?"
Janice blinked in dismay. Jadzia gave her an evil wink and walked over to the art bench. She surveyed the neat array of Janice's sculpting tools. "This should do nicely," said Jadzia, running her finger over the length of the sharp scraping blade. With a grin she sat down cross-legged between Janice's thighs and began to work.
She took one thick brush from the cup and dropped a dollop of foam onto Janice's thirsty patch. Slowly she worked it into the thick thatch, first with the soft brush, then finally switching to her owntwo fingers. Working from the outside in, she carefully razed each brassy hair from Janice's generous mound. When she finally reached the tender inner fold, Janice could not help but jump.
"Hold still," Jadzia murmured. "I don't want to hurt you." So saying Jadzia wrapped her left arm around Janice's thigh and held her firmly in place. With her right hand Jadzia carefully worked in short crisp strokes until the mons shone as smooth as an Aldebaran pearl.
"Mm, that's better," murmured Jadzia, setting down the scraper. She reached for the towel and with one quick swipe removed the remains of the soap.
Janice gasped at the rough feel of the nappy fabric against her naked sex. Just for fun, Jadzia wiped again.
Janice spread her legs wide in desperate invitation. Sitting back, Jadzia admired her handiwork. "I think I like you this way. Soft, smooth and fresh--like virgin snow." At her words one thick drip emerged from the depths of Janice's folds and fell glimmering down the edge of one delicate pink lip.
Janice pushed back against the pillow, wriggling in frustration. "Well this virgin is going to lose it if you don't do something pretty damn soon!"
Jadzia fell down flat on her stomach. She stuck out her tongue, broad and flat, and slammed it up against Janice's smooth crotch. Janice bucked, convulsively gripping sharp nails into Jadzia's shoulders. Synchronizing her movements with the telltale change in Janice's ragged breath, Jadzia pulled her face away and rammed two fingers into the depths of Janice's dripping cunt. With the touch of an expert, she twisted and pulsed Janice to a climax that even the Klingon woman would have envied.
They lay enervated on the
bed, boots crossed carelessly across boots. Jadzia lay on her stomach.
With one languid finger she traced the geometrical lines of Janice's precise
hairdo in quiet fascination. Janice had one hand tucked beneath Jadzia's
uni-brief, and lazily fondled her ass. On screen the couple lay quietly
together.
"Hey," said Janice. "Do you suppose the First Officer had a log recorder in his cabin too?"