A/N: This was inspired by the episode "Lonely Among Us." I found the idea of Deanna inside Beverly's mind pretty damn, well, hot. In a borderline creepy kind of way.
WARNING: This story contains Hypno-sex, which could be taken as dub-con. This story contains sexytimes (kind of) between two women, so if that makes you go "ew!" you've been warned.
"Open your mind." The familiar lilt of Deanna's voice set Beverly at ease.
She had never done anything like this before. Of course, there were the few times before she had met her late husband where she had experimented, but, really, hadn't everyone? However, she had never expected to find herself in a situation like this. Especially now.
But here she was, reclined on Deanna's couch, with her head in Deanna's lap, with Deanna's hands in her hair. She really should have known better, but she couldn't pass up a chance to experience something like this firsthand. And, truly, she did trust Deanna.
"Open your mind to me, Beverly." Deanna coaxed, gently massaging Beverly's scalp. If the older woman's eyes hadn't been closed, they certainly would have fluttered shut at the Betazoid's ministrations. Beverly took a deep breath, and allowed herself to give in to Deanna.
"Feel me." Deanna began. "Feel my hands on you." As she spoke, Beverly felt Deanna's hands move down her neck, and at the same time stay where they were. "Give in to the sensation. Allow yourself to feel my hands on you." More hands, now on her shoulders and arms, caressing her skin under her clothes. Beverly's breathing picked up, her lips parted.
"Let yourself go." Beverly felt the pressure of a psychic hand just below her right breast. She gasped lightly as the fingers traced lazy patterns along the sensitive flesh, finally coming to rest ever so lightly atop her nipple.
"Feel my hands on you, touching you." Deanna cooed. More hands appeared, teasing her breasts. Beverly groaned, feeling the growing ache between her legs. Her world had shrunk to the couch, Deanna, and those hands.
"Please..." Beverly moaned, rolling on her side so that her face was buried in Deanna's stomach. For a brief moment, Beverly wondered if it was just her, or if the whole room began to smell like sex. She was torn away from her musings by the sensation of a hand trailing its way down her stomach.
Beverly cried out at the contact. Through her haze, she noted that Deanna had stopped talking. The hand between her legs wasted no time, as if it sensed her need, the urgency of her desire. Beverly writhed in pleasure, the hands all over her body bringing her over the edge like never before.
After it was over, Beverly lay with her head in Deanna's lap, her face still buried in Deanna's stomach, Deanna's hands in her hair, massaging her scalp gently. Finally, Beverly opened her eyes, looking up to see Deanna watching her with an amused grin.
Beverly blushed, and buried her face in the younger woman's stomach once more. She felt more than heard Deanna's chuckle.
"Beverly." Deanna coaxed, in the same lilt that the redhead had grown accustomed to. She responded by groaning into the half-Betazoid's stomach. She wasn't exactly sure why she was so thoroughly embarrassed. "Beverly." Deanna repeated, more firmly. The doctor looked up, not moving her head.
"I'd like to do this again."