Author's note: The hit to review ratio was rather disappointing, but hopefully this next chapter will inspire more of you to review! Feel free to also message (or leave in your review) suggestions for scenarios you might like to see, and whatnot. More than one creative mind always makes things turn out better. Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it. (8
Same disclaimer as before; not mine.
Spock was thankful that his classes were not back to back. His mind was stuck on trying to figure out the Cadet's strange behavior. Meditation had not helped; he was still unable to decipher a logical reasoning to this. Thus, as classes went on, he – scientifically, of course – kept an eye on Cadet Hale. It was subtle, and not at all distracting to his work, which he took extra care to ensure. He noticed that she often had a far-out look in her face, though nothing like what she had that day. However, he was exceedingly patient, and was confident that persistence was the key to this mystery.
Then, about three weeks later, it happened.
"You may begin now."
This particular day he had given plenty of bookwork, and had taken to walking around the room. It reinforced the fact that everyone was suppose to be on task, and if they needed assistance, he would provide it (without simply giving them the answer, mind you). While offering pointers and tips to a student who was so close to grasping the concept he wanted them to, he smelled it. His nose, while not good over long distances, was quite exceptional in close range and picked up a sweet aroma. There was a brief moment to where he was puzzled as to what it may be, but the answer soon became clear: female pheromones. Being in an Academy with sexually active females, this was not uncommon, and he had detected it before. What was uncommon about the ordeal was the way his body reacted to it. He could feel a subtle flush creeping along his face, even after fighting back most of it through sheer will. His core temperature also raised significantly, bordering on uncomfortable, even for someone who was use to extreme heat. A dull roar was building in his hears, thrumming with his rapid heart's pace, more speedy than usual.
Although he was capable of looking over this minor details of change, there was something he could not ignore very well. Spock knew each and every feeling in his body well, to know when something was different, and unexpected. He had to steel even more control to keep his genitals inside of his body (a fact which only a few non-Vulcan beings knew was possible for a Vulcan); the alluring scent in the area promptly managed to illicit some sexual desire, and was calling the necessary body parts out for the job. Though he could keep his organs at bay from being released, there was no stopping his cock from getting semi-hard under the influence of the pheromones; a very awkward feeling to have, even for a Vulcan.
His scientific mind couldn't help but think, 'Fascinating', and it was. He had never experienced such a desire simply from a pleasant aroma, and his nose had been exposed to female pheromones in the air before – but this reaction choice to occur now, which was puzzling. Assuming it was from one of the women near, he moved to the row across, hoping that the more distance between him and the scent, the easier it would be to keep his body calm. Across the row was where Cadet Hale was, something he only suddenly realized, and was grateful; it would be much easier to observe her from a closer proximity. "Cadet Hale, are you fairing well on the assignment?"
When he was closer to her, Spock felt like his senses were being attacked viciously by the pheromones in the air; in was then he noted it was even stronger on this side, hanging thick in the air like unspoken words, and twice as persistent was before. She was producing that intoxicating aroma. He had to fight back the urge to breathe it in deeply, for his sanity, hoping to keep his cock from getting any more aroused then it already was – currently it was not painful to have his full erection inside his body, but that would deteriorate quickly at this rate.
"Yes, sir, thank you."
One quick look over her paper told him that she understood it well enough, especially compared to how she usually struggled. Although he could have told her a few things to fix to ensure she kept consistency, he did not. "Very well, continue." His legs immediately began to lead him away, away from her and that far too tempting aroma that was slowly attempting to madden his logical thought process. He had to get away from it, and fast. Luckily, that was not too difficult, with no need to aid and his long legs, Spock was seated comfortable at his desk four minutes and thirty-two seconds later.
For a distraction, he begun to look through all the data and messages on his PADD's; they were old news, really, but anything to keep his mind working. Even though he was not bombarded by that smell anymore, the desire in his body was still there. Spock did the worse thing then, allowing himself to get lost in thought. At first it was fine, and he was simply musing over his odd predicament, and then, he got a flash of images in his mind, that were most distinctly against Starfleet regulations.
*
He saw her, perhaps more clearly now than he ever truly had before. Even though as a Commander, he attempted to show all his students the same treatment, it was difficult not to notice the extremely talented ones – rather than those who simply need a little push to break into that territory..and that was her.
The setting was still the same; the classroom, the assignment, and he still had that damn aching hard-on. But one crucial thing was different. She was not in her seat. In fact, she was underneath his desk, hidden by the walls that sank to the floor and shrouded her with a thin mix of metal and dark wood, not allowing anyone to even see the bottom of her feet. There was only one way out from her current position, which is where he was, in his chair: and essentially, where his cock was.
She did not seem to mind. If anything she seemed rather eager to him help, as he was unable to keep the rigid flesh inside of his body, and it was now tenting his Starfleet black pants, making it even more uncomfortable. Self-lubrication was already starting to drip, making him hyper-aware of the situation. He eyed her uncertainly, though at this point he was hard pressed to make her presence known without compromising her position, and his as well. There was enough space between the top of the desk and his chair for him to flawlessly watch as she leaned forward, fearlessly pulling down the zipper to his fly, and even undoing the buttons, which he was thankful for endlessly.
Still, he stiffened; he was nervous as to how she would react, upon seeing one of the other few, but major differences between humans and Vulcans. Her hand reached in without hesitance, a soft cooing noise escaping her lightly parted mouth, like she knew of his thoughts. With ease she pulled him out, and although surprised, she also seemed highly intrigued, curious, and just as before, eager. Her eyes drank in his protruding anatomy, from the head – like humans, mushroomed – to what of the base she could see, looking over each alien texture with utter appreciation. Not surprisingly, it was dark green in color, which anyone would have been able to guess.
The open air on that particular part of him, for too long, he knew would cause trouble; his lubricants would work double-time, and that would be incredibly difficult to hide. Although desperate for some kind of contact, he still was fighting with himself, though both halves of his mind agreed on one thing: "You must my cock." Spock spoke low; she was close enough that she would be able to hear him without difficulty, and with the distance between his desk and his students, he doubted they would hear. Half of them were nodding off, anyway.
He was incredibly thankful for Vulcan control, then, because when she gave a hard lick to the sensitive head, a dozen sounds seemed like they wanted to come out all at once. They were bit back, and swallowed; his eyes glued to her face, her mouth. Though somewhat worried someone would decide to walk up and see, he couldn't bring himself to care too much if that happened, as long as she continued. Her hand went around the base, fingers delicately brushing both against the skin of his length, but also, the opened slit from whence it came. He couldn't help jumping slightly in his seat; it was subtle and he recovered. No one had noticed – no one except her. Lifting his flesh up slightly she dragged her tongue up from the bottom, purring in her pleasure of his taste, swirling her tongue expertly along the top.
His hands were now almost violently gripping the arms of the chair, his deep brown gaze darkening to almost a pitch-black. Spock was aware that his back was incredibly rigid now, as if his body was trying extra hard to appear normal and stoic, while the little minx underneath his desk kissed and licked the top of his cock, before her mouth opened wider to grant the pleading organ entrance into her mouth. She was teasing, at first; sinking in only over the head before removing her mouth, watching it twitch in need, before repeating the action.
It was madness, and he had half a mind to dismiss the rest of the class so he could violently fuck her teasing mouth. She seemed generous to his need, though, and began to sink fully onto his hard flesh. All the while her tongue moved and rolled, pressed against the underside of his shaft while she simply got used to his girth inside of her mouth. While he waited she got experimental with her tongue, moving it as best as she could with the current space. The movement was enough to keep stimulating him, causing a tiny shiver to fall. He heard her sigh slightly, and she released him for a moment, gathered her breathe, then completely devoured him. Her teeth only slightly grazed his flesh, not roughly, even as she bobbed her head up and down him with a steady pace. She hummed, and the sound created a steady vibration around him that send pleasurable shocks up his spine.
Without permission, one of his hands moved to tangle itself in her reddish-brown hair – probably dyed, but that thought was quickly wiped from his mind when she found the will to take him deeper. He realized that he was hitting the back of her throat now, and she wasn't even phased by it. The woman kept sucking him off so thoroughly, and now feeling it start to pulse more, used her hand on flesh that couldn't be reached; the base of his cock mostly, though it was getting daring and running over the open flesh that fanned out slightly around his flesh, a single finger slipping inside slightly through the little available space.
Spock wasn't ready for the combination of heightened pleasure and pain that made it all the more delicious. What she was doing could be dangerous; what if she had some contamination on her fingers, that was now inside his body? What if—his logical, fretful mind was shushed once again by a surge of bliss, and he noticed quite quickly that she was pulling off from his cock with suction, and was about half a second from whining because of it. She got a devious look across her features, and he was stunned when she used the hand that was slightly in his pants to pull the material down more, exposing the stretched penile-slit completely, and leaned over to drag her tongue across the flesh.
The sensation was miraculous, and she repeated it again, nearly causing him to ejaculate right then and there. His hand tightened more around her air, and she seemed to understand the unspoken request – returning to working her lovely mouth over him, lips somewhat swollen from being around him so roughly, using everything to bring him over the edge. Her tongue, teeth, sounds, probing hands. But what really undid him was when he looked down at her, he saw that her legs her open as she squat comfortably, and not only was she not wearing any panties, but he could see the sheen of desire along the inside of her thighs and beyond.
*
"Commander?"
If it wasn't for the fact he was the master of controlled, blank expressions, he would've looked stunned at the voice that caused his fantasy to die away. Now, if only it did the same to his even more persistent cock...
"What is it that you require, Cadet?"
It was Uhura; probably his most prized student. He doubted she needed his help on this assignment, since it should have been a breeze for her. His head inclined slightly to show that he was listening – he saw a faint blush spread across her cheeks, and he brushed away the urge to roll his eyes. There had once been a mutual attraction, though he wasn't sure if she knew that; but it had died quickly, finding that most of it had been because they shared similar interest in xenolinguistics, which was hard to find. She was beautiful, yes, but far too much like him. If his parents were any indication, differences could bring out good things in relationships.
"I just wanted to ask you if you change the due-date for our thematic analysis. A few people seem to be convinced you have."
He didn't even take have a second to respond. "I changed it once, which was agreed on mutually. The current, and final due-date is next Tuesday before 0800."
This seemed to be answer she was looking for, because she left him – and his aching erection – alone for the remainder of the class. Spock could hardly believe he had just experienced a full-blown fantasy about one of his students giving him a 'blowjob', if he remembered correctly. Not only that, but hell, he didn't even get to image how she would look swallowing—he forced himself to end that thought right there, and sighed slightly.
What the hell was he suppose to do for the next half an hour, besides going over there and shoving his hard-on in her face, and hope she was nice enough to take him into her mouth? Continuing the fantasy was out of the question, because he was unsure if he could handle the sight his mind desperately wished to produce, while in a public place. One thing he did know was…it was going to be a long thirty minutes.