Disclaimer is in the first chapter. Other than Vulcan words, letters in italics represent people's inner thoughts.
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Chapter 5: A typical male
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The early morning hours arrived and quiet reigned in the entire S'chn T'gai household.
Well, not exactly in the entire household. For there was an odd, heavy sound coming from the living-room.
"R-r-r-r-ronc..."
A sleeping Skon let out another loud snore.
And thrust again.
Which caused T'Rama, who was imprisoned in his arms and definitely not sleeping, to let out another groan of pleasure.
"Ohhhhnnnhhh…"
Yet, and despite her deep satisfaction, her irritation continued to grow. Never in her entire life had she felt so humiliated… by sleeping in such a position both stimulating and uncomfortable.
Or attempted to sleep. For the only ones who had actually slept – far too heavily – the night before, were the males, Skon and the cub. She, regardless of her fatigue or her numerous attempts, had not slept at all.
And she owed it all to her beloved adun.
Having spent the entire night engaging in mating activities in the warm living room, the couple had eventually slept in front of the fireplace. Now, as dawn approached, T'Rama found herself lying on her right side while Skon was spooned behind her.
Or, in a word, glued behind her.
And being unable to change that position, T'Rama fumed.
Skon had fallen asleep while he was still inside her. His lok was still semi-hard, and although T'Rama had difficulty believing it, Skon had a sufficient erection in his sleep! In addition to that, he was snoring right in her ear. And each snore was followed by a sharp thrust.
Her mind was filled with several questions that demanded answers.
Was Skon aware of the fact that he became hard in his sleep?
Had it happened before or was it a first-time reaction triggered by their mating?
If it wasn't… how did he do it? Did his brain control it, or were the lok's nerves reacting because of their coupling?
Did her adun awake every morning… with an erect lok?
And the most terrifying thought of all… Did it happen to other males? Her honored father or Solkar?
She blushed to the roots of her hair. Oh, these thoughts were so embarrassing! But… these were things that made her really wonder. Skon's lok was touching her in a very special spot. And thus every thrust was affecting her in an… oh, so… pleasant way. Which had absolutely nothing to do with a peaceful, decent night's sleep.
On top of everything, she couldn't move. Skon had his hands wrapped around her in such a tight embrace it was a miracle she could breathe.
Her adun's right arm was around her waist; his left arm was embracing her chest, his hand cupping one breast. T'Rama couldn't even close her legs; each time she tried to move Skon snored. And each snore was followed by –
"R-r-r-ro-o-nc."
Another snore.
And another thrust.
"Ohh!" she moaned, filled with lust, and trying in vain to pursue her lips.
Oh, by the wisdom of logic and the hall of the Great Council! This was intolerable! They definitely needed to discuss sleeping arrangements. Or else she would never be able to sleep decently or enough … ever again.
There was no way she would let Skon share her bedchamber. Once they mated, he would go straight back to his bedroom. And leave her to sleep in peace and comfort.
Perhaps it was time for another escape attempt? Once again, T'Rama tried to loosen his tight embrace. For a moment it seemed she would succeed. However, once Skon felt his hands losing contact with her body, he tightened his grip and protested with a prolonged snoring sound.
"R-r-r-r-ro-ro-ronc."
Which was followed by many short quick thrusts.
This time T'Rama let out a small cry and bit her lower lip so as not to moan from the pleasure he was inflicting. Her control had never been put to the test like this, never ever…
Filled with resentment, she decided to awake him. But the moment she turned to face him… was the moment she reconsidered.
Her adun seemed so handsome and peaceful as he slept, with his tousled hair, his mouth half-opened, like an innocent child, that T'Rama simply couldn't do it. Many years ago, the day Skon gave her T'Ama's fake adoption certificate, was the day he conquered her heart. Regardless of her discomfort, there was only thing she could do, and that would be to endure this until Skon awoke.
As for sleeping arrangements ... Her mind swiftly began planning ahead. She could move to the bedroom next to Skon's. That room, viewing the mountains, had served as a nursery when Skon was an infant and both bedrooms communicated by an intermediate door. That would be extremely useful; their mating would be undetected when they had guests.
Truth be told, she preferred her current bedroom, which viewed the internal garden. She often preferred to meditate there, instead of the traditional meditation rooms. But this was a sacrifice T'Rama was willing to make. Her bedroom could become a guest room.
Or perhaps… a nursery? Her mouth twitched at that thought. They would place the crib near the eastern window–
"R-r-r-ronc."
Another snore.
Another thrust.
Lost in her thoughts, Skon's convulsive move caught her by surprise.
"Aaannhhh!" Against her will, T'Rama let out another moan as her body shook from all the built-up sexual tension. Yet having not slept for another night – this time for no reason at all except Skon's erect lok – and after skipping her evening meditation, her control was slowly failing her and she was becoming exasperated.
Was there ever a time inside the caves that she found Skon's snoring amusing? Well, no more! It was disturbing and offensive and unrefined and… and… and highly improper! Yes, it was. She would tell him to his face, the first minute he awoke. And after each mating session she would personally made sure Skon would return to his room. If necessary, she could resort to violence.
Imprisoned in her bondmate's embrace, feeling both aroused and miserable, T'Rama's gaze fell on the large wooden table at the other side of the room. The exquisitely carved ancient desk belonged to Skon's family for nearly five centuries. It was a priceless unique artifact… and Solkar's wedding gift.
Guilt flooded through T'Rama's entire being; her lower lip trembled in remorse and embarrassment. She held Solkar in the highest esteem. She respected him as much as she respected her own father. How could she face him again? How was she going to look at him again in the eyes, after she and Skon had mated on the table… not once but twice?
In an uncharacteristic move, she closed her eyes and shook her head as if to clear her mind from these needlessly shameful thoughts. Having regrets about something that happened was illogical. They would never mate on the desk again, ever. In fact certain rules had to be established. Like mating in the living room, leaving their detectable scent in almost every chair and couch. And wall.
Once Skon awoke, they would clean up. She would take care of cleaning the furniture and the blankets, he the walls and the floor. Also they would open every door and window so that the desert air would refresh the inside of their house. This was far too personal to leave it to the temperature controls. Nobody should suspect a thing.
"R-r-r-ronc."
Another snore.
Another thrust.
She sighed. Trying to keep her mind distracted, she began thinking of how different their mating inside the caves was from what happened the previous night. Eight point two hours before she'd been uncertain whether she would find mating pleasurable. The penile spines only grew once every seven years, while Skon was under the influence of the fever. Yet inside the caves they were responsible for her losing her mind – during Skon's Time she lost count of the orgasms she reached.
Tonight that experience seemed so far away, it could have belonged to a different species.
Skon's hard, yet spineless lok could bring her to an orgasm, although the path was different. The Fever's effect was sweeping and fierce, a biological necessity. Nature dictated a time span of approximately fifty hours, which ensured both the female's pregnancy and the survival of the male, who afterwards became responsible for the protection of the female and the newborn, ensuring the extension of his bloodline.
Once the mating inside the caves began, she could easily reach an orgasm every seven to ten minutes. In the Fever's peak, maybe every four to five. Rapid ovulation or sometimes hyper-ovulation was the rule.
"R-r-r-ronc."
Another snore.
Another thrust.
This time she caught herself. She closed her eyes tight and pursed her lips together. Her nostrils flared. Where would this lead? He would wake up eventually, wouldn't he? Well she would make sure he was aware of her disapproval, the exact moment he awoke.
She let out another sigh.
What was she thinking? Oh, yes, Skon's spineless, yet hard lok. Well, last night certainly was a revelation. During their mating she discovered that slowly she reached a satisfactory level of pleasure by clitoral stimulation, without accomplishing a vaginal orgasm. Inside the caves she had difficulty separating them, yet during last night's mating, and following Skon's several assiduous attempts …
For the first time, T'Rama realized that she wanted this; she wanted what took place last night to happen again – without thinking about offspring and their clan responsibilities. The sensations she felt, the feelings last night awoke inside her, were things she couldn't take back. She wanted to share that experience with her adun for the rest of their lives.
Slowly she caressed Skon's strong hands that circled her body. During their mating, her poor adun had really tried…
T'Rama's lips quirked up at the ends. For a beginner, Skon's attempts were praiseworthy indeed. Yet, perhaps… further investigation was necessary to reach conclusive data. Because the one time, she had probably ovulated …
Her body and mind were overwhelmed by a sensation fierce enough to temporarily stop all her thought patterns and almost made her forget her whereabouts and even her logic …
Which caused another potential danger. They had to find a balance between mating and maintaining their control. It was dangerous even to allow the simplest slip. The event with the cub was indicative of what could happen. What was Skon capable of doing if someone disturbed them?
No wonder mating out of one's Time was considered dangerous. They had to approach this new experience with great care and awareness.
She pursed her lips, determined to succeed. They could control themselves and at the same time recreate some of the events from Skon's Time.
Skon could solve harder equations than this. She could safely extract fragile artifacts by breaking gigantic rocks. They had to succeed. And they would succeed.
"R-r-ronc."
Another snore.
Another thrust.
"Ohhh…" T'Rama let out a small, miserable moan, uncertain of how much longer she could stand this unusual sexual experience.
Fortunately at this moment Skon awoke.
Unfortunately, he stretched out all his extremities. Hands, feet, all of them … His hard lok included.
A prolonged, voiceless cry came out of T'Rama's mouth. Her breathing stopped as his lok touched the center of her pleasure. A deep purr came from Skon's sternum. Without saying a word, her adun pulled out of her, turned her on her back, stretched her legs, covered her body with his own, and began moving inside her. His mouth went directly – what a surprise – to her neck.
T'Rama was shocked at how insensitive he was. Here she was, sleep-deprived, yet thinking, planning ahead, and securing their family's privacy and respectability. She was even feeling guilty, considering they had defiled her respected father-in-law's wedding present.
None of that mattered to Skon. Because at that moment, there was only one thing in his mind.
"I can't believe I haven't thought of that sooner," he mumbled, softly nibbling her throat.
And at that moment T'Rama exploded.
She was sleep-deprived. And she was tired.
She was tired of running their household all by herself. She was tired of constantly reminding him his meals, which he often forgot, lost in his equations, studies or translations… She was tired of making even the simplest decisions for both of them, like when they should visit their parents or their friends, or care for the garden, or arranging the maintenance of their hovercars, which Skon never remembered on time. And she knew that she would be the one responsible for the cub as well. If she were to leave it to Skon's care, the poor creature would probably starve to death.
The angry words left her mouth before she could make the connection.
"You are such a typical male!"
Skon was surprised by her anger over something he regarded as completely natural - his physiology. He looked down at their joined bodies and then gave her a puzzled look.
"Why, yes, I am. Would you prefer me otherwise?"
T'Rama was prepared for every other answer… except a straightforward admission. Her lips trembled as Skon's question buzzed in her mind.
Unwittingly, her adun had just asked an interesting question. Would she change anything about him, if she could?
Her mind went back to the first day they met. His indecisiveness, his sincerity, his slight naivety, the natural way he had extended his protection over her. Then, over the years, how he had approached her. How he cared for everything that mattered to her. Her pet lizard, her fascination for antiques and old, paper-made books. How he shared her rejoicing every time her team discovered ancient artifacts, altars and scrolls during their excavations. How he came to be an integral part of her life. How he, mentally and physically, completed her.
T'Rama's anger evaporated. Realizing there was only one answer, she shook her head hesitantly.
"No," she wanted to say, "I do not."
But Skon didn't need to hear what he already knew. Before his adun'a managed to utter another word, he covered T'Rama's mouth with his and stole her next breath. And several others.
To Be Continued...
Vulcan words (from the Vulcan Language Dictionary)
I think by this time we all know what lok is.
Author's note: The large wooden table is also mentioned in my dark story "Α Τale of Two Mirrors". I liked it, so I used it here as well.
SpockLikesCats edited this chapter. I told her that it is a very simple, small scene, where nothing happens and nobody moves at all. I meant that this chapter may seem boring. She replied, "I think Skon is moving. A little," and also informed me that Skon's situation is called Vulcan 'Morning Wood'. I had never heard of that expression and there are not enough laughs in the world…
Thank you SpockLikesCats, for all your encouraging words, help and support.
This chapter completes the romantic part of the story. Next chapter will be a little angsty – just a heads up. But you all know I am a sucker for happy endings.
Dear readers, please consider leaving a review. It is always helpful and encouraging to hear what you think!
