The next night, Aitlun'a had the stage to herself with no dancers to distract him from her movements. On Wednesdays, the club highlighted their money makers with personal shows to break the mid-week lull in business. Starting at 5:00pm, when the working population began to pour in as a pit stop between work and the house, each girl had a thirty minute set to make them hot and bothered.
Kirk arrived earlier than the appointed time and chose one of his three preferred seating arrangements to gain a good view of his Vulcaness as she entertained him. Nursing his drink, Jim considered that it was presumptuous to claim her as his own but he knew he was most definitely hers.
His time spent in Iowa had been lonely and largely unproductive. He farmed, he finished school (barely, though not from lack of intelligence but much more to do with his impulsiveness) and used the rest of his time outside of school chasing skirts and talking (or fighting) his way out of arguments.
With his father dead and his mother busy working, Kirk was left with only his estranged brother and surly uncle to call on, but as it was, Jim was mainly left to his own devices. After being tapped by Pike at the Riverside bar and grill to join Starfleet and surpass his father's achievements, Kirk went in headlong with dreams of space and exploration.
The pace at the Academy was grueling with rigorous hours of physical conditioning, arduous nights spent drilling himself over ethics homework and regulation codes. However, the most grueling of all was staying awake long enough in class to take notes to gain a general idea of what his professors were lecturing about before nodding off to catch up on sleep.
Because the time he didn't spend studying and completing homework or papers, he used to satiate his libido.
The time studying at Starfleet didn't do anything to help his raging cupidity. If anything, it made his cravings worse. Terabytes of holovids and stills were downloaded to his personal comm where he watched each and every second in rapt attention, detailing the sighs, moans and climatic screams of the females on the screens. Of course, his favorites featured Vulcans (or in most cases impersonators) rutting up against wanton women for scientific study or in rarer pics, pon farr.
He relieved the pain of his throbbing cock day by day by wasting his seed into the palm of his hand or the tight skin of a condom while simultaneously imagining fucking the mewling females in the projections as he pounded into some charmed female he met just minutes before while drinking or dancing at the club.
As a matter of familiarity, he was mostly attracted to humans, followed closely by Vulcans and as a strange and surprising third–Caitians. All three had their merits. Vulcan females were exotic to him, lithe, green-tinged and touch telepaths, while humans were warm, wet and a female species he was well versed in. Caitians were so different from the others but had those wonderfully triangular ears and then there were those tails…and what they could do with them...
The DJ's voice stirred him from his drunken thoughts and he slid his bright blue gaze over towards the curtain, watching, waiting for his infatuation to appear. Instead of the side entrances, she entered with a bowed head from the center stage, the curtains parting and revealing her body cocooned in a heavy robe of black.
Her head bobbed from one side to the next, swinging her bangs and ponytail from side to side like a pendulum. Kirk caught sight of her ears and chuckled to himself as he saw the earrings he bought her adorning them. She had colored her hair as well. He noticed the long wavy strands fading from cerulean blue into a red violet. Finally her head stopped. Facing the crowd with her eyes closed, she shed her outer garment and revealed a wonderful sight beneath it. Tonight she was a ballerina.
The second piece of jewelry he gave her, a string of rhinestones woven into a one piece body chain, was laced across her torso like a leotard, shimmering delicately like diamonds dotting her skin. Rising onto her toes of her pointe shoes, she extended one long leg forward and brought her arms languidly to first position.
A hush fell over the crowd as his Aitlun'a's feet floated across the stage, her transparent LED lit tutu changing colors as she went from one position to the next.
Kirk's breath caught in his throat as he watched her legs flutter and spread in the air as she ran and leaped into a grand jeté, gliding through the air like some mythical sprite before catching hold of the front pole with her hands and swinging up towards the center.
Stretching, the Vulcaness formed her body into a triangle with her hands and feet along the pole and her rear jutting out towards the audience and started to spin into a modified grand penché. From there, she moved in time with the music, adagio and leisurely as if underwater. The music she chose added to that effect as Jim felt like he was glimpsing a mermaid from Risa III.
For all its soothing melodies and ballet movements, the thin brown Vulcan's performance was highly erotic.
Her face was highly emotional tonight, most of the feeling conveyed through her eyes in conjunction with the pout she wore on her plush mouth as if she were panting. The tutu was purely for show as it stood out from her waist stiff as a board and did nothing to hide her wet slit and the ample cheeks behind her.
James couldn't have been more pleased with her unless she was privately dancing for him as she gracefully and vigorously stirred his loins and imagination. He held his breath as she looked over in his direction. She stretched her legs out into a center split while hanging from the pole with her arms up above her locked around the pole. Her supple, verdant sex was spread open to his stare and he felt his mouth call her name, hoping that some way she'd be able to pick up his voice among the others and the music with her sharp alien hearing. Aitlun'a, however did not answer back and turned her body along with her face away as she circled the bar.
'Perhaps she couldn't hear me,' he thought dejectedly, knowing that it would have been a big feat for her to do so in the first place. He could barely hear the bartender over the thrum of the bass, but his eyes were sharp. Even from the back, he could see her breathy huffs as she worked her body to spin upside down with her feet on the ceiling. There, she continued to dance as she did on the floor as the bar helped secure her position between pliés and an interesting take on sissone jumps.
He took another gulp from his glass, licking after the foam from his lips as he watched her twerk from the ceiling as her tutu rotated and shifted like a hula hoop on her hips. 'What a tease,' he thought looking from the rapidly clearing bottom of his glass as he drained it dry and drowned his inhibitions. He wanted her, more of what he was currently getting anyway. It wasn't enough and he felt himself needing more stimulation to stave off his sordid sensuality.
Just the night before as he had taken a Deltan back to his room only to have her tap out after the fifth hour.
"I can't keep up with you," she panted above him, her smooth head coated in shiny beads of sweat.
"Are you sure? Is that possible?"
She laughed at him and dismounted from his cock and went to retrieve her clothes. "I assure you it's possible, though highly usual. You are a very rare breed of your species, Jim. I haven't been with any human male or female that's been able to outpace me."
He propped himself up by his elbows and watched her as she dressed. "Well, I guess there's a first time for everything…"
She smiled at him and gave him a heated kiss on his mouth. He returned it and snatched her back onto the bed with a growl. The Deltan giggled and pushed at him firmly. "Yes, Jim. You are definitely my first insatiable human. You should get yourself a Vulcan like the one you were thinking about. They can go for days if they're suffering from pon farr."
He withdrew from her and hummed apologetically. "Yeah, sorry. It's hard to find non-bonded Vulcans and then they're usually horribly logical or crazy with no morals. Forget it. I don't want to make you sad."
He shook his head and waved the notion of sadness away. "It's okay. Everything about me has been bizarre from my birth to my kinks, so why should my emotions be any different?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly, kissing him once more before bidding him good night while he rolled out of bed to shower for class.
As he ordered his third drink of the evening, he thought back to his musings in the shower. He thought of his classmate, the sexy, smart and unobtainable Uhura. She was so untouchable he couldn't even get her to tell him her first name. The sultry, communications track cadet was a hard read for him as he couldn't tell if she honestly despised him or had an ace game of hard to get.
He had caught her staring at that Vulcan professor that they had at the Academy but her glances went largely ignored or unnoticed. He scoffed into his glass and drank to that notion. Being looked over by Vulcans was something the two had in common whether she'd acknowledge it or not, but he couldn't, or rather wouldn't go there.
He'd always wanted to find a girl to go steady with but he was a lot for one woman to bear. For the times that he had dated that didn't end with them washing out or wanting to go back to being single for academic reasons, the relationship usually flamed out due to his sex drive. He had many things going for him and he was very much the gentleman with his girlfriends at large. When dating, he was solely committed to that one woman and doted on her every chance he got, enough to make them feel special but not smothered. From occasional dinners out to bowling night and contra dancing, Kirk was alive with excitement to experience anything and everything with his significant other. However, flowers and late night ice cream runs couldn't make up for the caveats they saw in him.
Kirk could go on for days saying all the things girls loved and hated about him. However, one issue was repeated over and over like a broken record. He wanted it too much; he was too kinky. He was a freak for what he wanted to try or a perverted sexist for the things he said. James T. Kirk was a horrid, deplorable male sexpot with a sex drive that bards could sing odes about for ages. He would apologize and say he'd try to change, but the women would either leave him in a flurry of cursing or stay until it got uncomfortable enough for both of them to call it quits.
He would looked at Uhura with her neatly manicured nails organizing the PADDs in the midst of a lecture. Her long ponytail swiveled left and right as she took copious notes and he figured her for a secret freak. It was always the quiet ones, the ones that protested too much or would have far too little to drink that had the dirtiest minds. He was sure that if she gave him a chance he would be the one tapping out exhausted and spent.
But as it was she held no open interest in him and still held Kirk at a distance, probably hoping for the Vulcan to forsake all logic and fuck her senseless.
Jim went back to watching his Vulcaness work her way up and down the pole like some fabled spider nymph as she curled her fingers beckoning out to the crowd.
'Oh, I'd come and get you,' he thought taking another sip of his drink. 'But you'd better ready for me baby, 'cause I've got something for you that you won't soon forget.'
He pulled out a small gauzy bag of wrist and ankle bangles and placed inside a thin slip of paper in the same rosy color that he had used to pen the Vulcaness's 'love' letters by the alias of Eros. She never replied with a note of her own, but instead wore his gifts the night after the bartender delivered them.
The burly Bolian in question walked over to his barstool with a glass and dishrag in hand, trying without success to make the thin, damp cloth dry off the last of the water spotting the surface. As he spread the water along the exterior of the tumbler, he gave Kirk a wide smile, his blue face suddenly broken by the bright white canines emerging from his face. "Mr. Eros. Ready for me to make your delivery?"
Kirk slid his glass and the present over with a nod. "You know it. I have work waiting for me at home that's distracting my mind and now that my girl is done dancing, I'm going to call it a night."
The azure alien accepted the glass, placing it into the wash sink and pocketed Kirk's bag into his work apron. "You know, she always looks for your letters."
"She has a funny way of showing it."
The bartender shrugged and placed the dry glass on the shelf in front of him and scrubbed the glasses in the wash sink with surprising gentleness given his great size. "If she gets other notes or gifts she's happy, but she always asks for yours."
"Is Aitlun'a bonded?" Kirk asked, pulling a cigarette from his coat and accepting the lighter the Bolian slid over from behind the counter.
"Our little Vulcaness doesn't even have a boyfriend – not for lack of those trying to fill the position, but more that she ironically is quite a private person. I would say you're the closest one to being her special someone, but you see how she holds even you at a distance."
Kirk nodded, inhaling slowly and letting the smoke mellow out his tension. He wanted her and she was frustratingly hard to get a hold of even as she stood bowing on the stage not even 20 feet away from him under the hot stage lights. He exhaled out of the corner of his mouth as he eyed her modest bust toting her trademark color clashing nipples. The dark brown bud make his mind wonder as to how it would feel between his fingers or his lips. "Tell her I'd like to hear from her, please."
"Of course, but you know Vulcans. Who knows how they process requests when there are no emotions involved."
"You have a point there. I shouldn't be projecting on her like she's human."
The bartender shrugged as he placed dishes into the blue water of the sanitizing sink, his navy hands disappearing as they entered the liquid. "We're all guilty of that, Eros, so don't get too down on yourself. Besides, you may find that your technique with treating her like a human female may work."
Kirk scoffed and watched longingly as Aitlun'a walked off the stage and melded into the left stage curtain. "What? You're telling me that going after her as an illogical smooth talking alpha male is going to get me farther than being respectful and logical?"
"Stranger things have happened, Jim Kirk…" he said dryly.
Kirk's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline as he looked to the floor and chewed over the Bolian's suggestion. "It's worth a shot I suppose."
The Bolian nodded with that blinding smile again and went back to drying with his pitiful dish rag. "Yes, that's the Kirk I've come to know."
The space born Iowan stood up, ashing out the butt of his cigarette and exhaling a white, wispy cloud with his trademark baby blues shining through the fog. "I don't believe in no win scenarios – just in puzzles that I've yet to solve."