Sato

It was what I've dreamed of, but more and different.

I didn't think either of them would go for it. Seconds after Malcolm nodded, all three of us were buck-naked, and the excitement alone when we got going was enough to give me a heart attack.

I was overwhelmed by too many sensations. Three of us, wrapped in a heaving mess on top of the bed; hands everywhere, mouths everywhere, and my body on fire with wanting both of them.

After months of starvation, I guess none of us were in the mood to wait. Within moments I had Malcolm's mouth between my legs. Trip swallowed my near-scream of delight as I spread myself, thrilling to the sheer sexuality of being a woman taking two lovers. Both tongues demonstrated what their owners would be doing to me shortly.

It was too damned exciting to lie still. I wanted to feel both of them, to have both of them. And they could have me … when I was ready. And not before.

Looking back, I'm not sure any of us were sane – or sober. They did their damnedest to pin me down, but somehow every time I'd wriggle free, taunting and flaunting. They laughed and cursed, and kissed each other till I broke in on the act, recalling their attention. The time would come when I'd have the pleasure of watching, but first they must satisfy me. And they were going to satisfy me. Oh yes. They were going to satisfy me as often as I wanted.

I don't know who decided what or if it just happened. Midway through another tangle that was as much war as lust, Trip finally trapped me. The sensation – my god, the feeling of hard warm flesh sliding into me; I couldn't bite back the wail of delight.

I looked down the length of my body, tilting my head to see past Malcolm, whose mouth was covering my left breast; he was lapping at my nipple like a little cat drinking milk. Trip had rolled between my parted thighs with a gasp of triumph, and the expression on his face was one of rapt and blissful concentration as he started giving me what we both wanted.

Malcolm sat up to watch. The fingers that were deft on the trigger of a phase pistol went on teasing my nipples.

As the tension ratcheted up and up in my belly, and Trip's strokes got harder and faster, Malcolm leaned down and kissed me. His mouth still tasted of my fluids. He's got a wicked, skilful tongue. "My turn next, Hoshi," he whispered. His English accent was stronger than ever, and incredibly sexy. "Come for Trip. I want to watch you come, Ensign. And that's an order."

Needless to say, I couldn't disobey a direct order from a superior officer. In another few seconds I was thrashing like a speared salmon, the waves of orgasm surging through me from where Enterprise's chief engineer was clearly on the brink of having his warp core go critical.

Malcolm rolled suddenly, one of the swift movements that are so typical of him. Next moment he was behind Trip, and both of us squealed – me, though I'd hardly any breath left, and Trip as something finally cracked his control. Malcolm bit Trip's shoulder and ran his tongue up the neck, where the tendons were standing out like cords; I can guess where his left index finger was, but his right had slipped into my sex and was cracking open another layer of heaven with tiny circular movements, as skilful as they were precise. His eyes never left my face, taking in every contortion as Trip's body slammed against mine.

As the pleasure finally subsided and Trip rolled off me, panting, I was able to gasp for air; gasps that quickly turned to one of excitement as Malcolm's expression suddenly turned predatory. He wanted me, and it was clear that the ship's weapons officer was prepared to use whatever force was necessary if I turned awkward.

As if I would. As if I didn't want him inside me, now, while I was still quivering from another man's lovemaking, spending all that formidable strength of his on giving me pleasure.

Only the knowledge that T'Pol and the captain were only a few meters away let me bite back the moan of anticipation as he maneuvered me expertly and precisely into position. He wanted to watch everything as I pleasured myself on him. The control freak was giving me control, but that in itself was controlling me.

I didn't care. I'd asked for this. I'd known what it would entail.

His hardness slipped into my slickness. I started to rock back and forth, groaning as the pleasure mounted again. Trip, recovering quickly, got in on the act almost at once. Much to my delight, as my nipples, stiff with arousal, became the center of his attention.

It was the start of a long, hot night of discovery and delight. For three people who'd started it as effective strangers, we ended it in a tangle of weary, sated bodies who were utterly intimate with each other. The first hint of dawn came all too soon, and after the two of them had slipped away to their own rooms, my bed was large and empty. I curled up in it, smelling sex and sweat, and I don't think it's ever been with more reluctance that I headed for the shower to wash off the evidence.

Twinges here and there showed me that there was some that wouldn't wash off. But then I'd left my partners in crime with evidence of my own affection too. At a guess the next time exercise periods were scheduled I wouldn't be the only one donning a T-shirt instead of a tank top, and keeping it on regardless of the discomfort.

I've never done anything like this before. But I want more. I look across the Bridge and watch Malcolm whom I once dismissed as passionless; to all appearances he's the absolute professional, but just now and again I catch his gaze, and when it happens we both remember. I know it. He knows it. And when Trip comes out on to the bridge we both look at him, and all three of us remember.

It was supposed to be a one-off.

Maybe that was naive of all of us to think human relationships could ever be that simple. Because what happened down there was anything but simple. Before, there was hunger. Now, there's addiction.

I want the next hit.

And god help me, I want it soon.


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