BEST DS9 FEMALE-FEMALE STORY (tie)

Title: "Promenade"

Author: R.Schultz (cousindream@MSN.com)

Series: DS9

Code: Lwaxana Troi/Leeta

Rating: NC-17/R for graphic sex.

Disclaimer: Star Trek and it's universes belong to Paramount and whoever. I'm just a poor sinner leading a few of their characters astray. (Yeah!) I'm not making money off this. I'll put their characters back good as new. This STORY belongs to me under common-law copyright. Set in the period after "The Forsaken", first season. Written Nov., 2000. Apx. 7100 words.

Summary: Lwaxana Troi is on DS9 with a 'fact-finding' commission from the Federation, and she's bored. An unlikely friendship proceeds between the Light of the Seventh House and the Dabo girl.

Warning: This story involves a consensual relationship between two (fictional) adult women. If not your cup of tea, go. If you are underage to read this sort of thing, or if this is illegal in your country or locale, go.

Archiving: This story is part of the Femme Fuh-Q Fest. It will be posted to ASCEM. May be archived, and I hope for notice when this happens.

Feedback: Send all comments to cousindream@MSN.com

PROMENADE

by R. Schultz



The others were going down to Bajor now. Evidently the `Provisional' government was being very nice to the visitors from the Federation. I had no interest in being lauded at another meaningless banquet or celebration. Fed badly done food and vacuous praises. I'll be down tomorrow, or the day after. Let them perform their little pretends. Smile at their little deceits.

To tell more high-sounding fibs than the Bajoran representatives... Ah. Now that I enjoyed. It was a delightful dance of words, and my job is to learn to dance it better than their best masters.

It was all such a farce, though. Back on Babel the Parliament can hardly stop falling all over their own feet at the prospect of another happy addition to the Federation. This parade of prideful louts and pious incompetents was an unnecessary formality to allow pompous people to think their inept input will mean admission or denial of the Bajoran petition.

Below me strode the masculine figure of Chief Constable Odo. Hurrying somewhere on his genuine and multiple duties. So embarrassed he was, afterwards, after the debacle in the elevator. No, not debacle. I might not have discovered just what a shape-shifter was capable of, but I had made a lifelong friend.

So alone I was, again, now. A few new clothes on this sagging frame, a few flourishes on a somber russet pants-suit. And Odo was walking, quite forcefully, away. Not even aware of my inspection. The injustice of it all. A little more luck and we could have had an interesting evening. Morning. *Sigh*

So I stood there, elbows akimbo over the throngs below. Wishing I had Picard with me right now. Oh, what a JOY he was! His little sidesteps and operatic exits as he maintained his chastity in the face of my determined onslaught. The sparkle of his desperate retreats were more fun than any coupling of our over-aged and sweaty bodies could ever hope to accomplish.

That Klingon of his, that Worf personage, that last time, oh, what a delightful wild card he had become! I believe my dear daughter had much to do with that.

Deanna, myself and he were on the Turbolift at the time. Not a hint of a smile on his face, he speaks to me out of the corner of his mouth while on the turbolift.

"It is not nice for you to tease my Captain the way you do," he had sotto-voiced at me. "He thinks you lust after his virtue, seek his body, and are serious in your matrimonial quest."

Deanna had driven a sharp little Betazoid elbow in his ribs, and he hadn't even grunted. "A little teasing will do our Captain good, Mr. Worf," my sweet angelic innocent Deanna said. "Help him re-establish his personal balance."

The Klingon had immediately begun sliding to one side, obviously losing his balance. This time he made a noise when maidenly Deanna gave him a spirited one in his side from that well-remembered elbow of hers. I'd felt that pointy thing once or twice myself.

In the momentary silence which followed, I expressed my opinion that the Captain's warp core would have to be sabotaged before I could hope to capture him. I would need the assistance of others. Any likely volunteers willing to present their aid in my fervent quest?

"Mother...." she began.

Ah, it was such fun on the ENTERPRISE. DS9 was so....cosmic. Vital. Important. Imminent. Great Events waiting in it's wings. Boring. I had seen SO many important events in my too-long life, they now blended into each other in my memories. Shades of gray. Where was a Jean-Luc when I needed one?

The movement caught my eye first. People had been moving about up here forever. This one was different. I had to smile when I turned my head. Ask and ye shall receive, I mentally congratulated myself. This little delight was going to be my relief from ennui.

She was sitting on the floor, her legs dangling over the edge. over the people below. A young girl, Bajoran once I noticed the nose ridges. Chin on the middle railing, staring at...everything.
Nothing.

She was surprised when I swung down to join her. Yes, it hurt a bit when my body suddenly bent in unaccustomed ways. Hell with it. One is always doing ridiculous things in the company of the young. She had the wit to giggle when my bones and joints reminded me of my age, and the wisdom to hold my arm in sympathy. Or maybe she was making sure I didn't pitch over and down onto the Promenade. That could be messy. Embarrassing.

The young Bajoran woman snuck a few sideways looks at me before smiling. Once seated, it wasn't such a bad place to be. I knew I'd only be able to stand it for so long, and I'd be ungraceful as hell getting back up. However, since grace wasn't getting me very far...

Right now I wasn't feeling very beautiful, young or graceful. Hell with it. Maybe Prince Gawain in shining armor will be there to help me back to my feet. Failing that there was this railing. It didn't look likely to crumple under the weight of an old Betazoid. Always have a fall-back position.

"Much better," the girl said. "The hair I mean. If that dark coloring is natural, you should culture that look. Suits you." Commenting on my colorful hair shades and styles of yesterday and this morning.

"If you must know," I sighed, "I wear this look all the time. I do an incredible amount of judging and reasoning and protocol and political power brokering on my home planet. An image that suggests power and wisdom AND authority is very useful." I hesitated to explain my mental abilities as a Betazoid. It alienated most strangers, even if it wasn't real telepathy.

Every one is afraid of their sins being exposed. How to explain in a few words that it's just emotions and moods we can see well? How to convince them we'd just as soon not go through every day trying to make sense out of that monstrous muddle their undisciplined minds
are?

The fact is that in those few seconds I'd just learned enough to be honest with her. This girl was no innocent. Yet she had not thought avaricious thoughts when I mentioned 'power'. She had just a thin broth of envy, the kind everyone has when facing those wealthier than themselves. Nothing bitter. Nothing poisonous.

Most often, being able to read people's moods, gives us more choices than we wish. Which is why most of the time we behave as though we didn't catch 'THAT' secret or emotion.

"I have a Padd full of names attached to me, but those are mostly just titles. My name is Lwaxana....what's yours?"

She gave me her slight hand, I tried very hard not to see things when we shook. "Leeta," she replied. She rushed to include; "I'm a Dabo girl down at Quark's". Then waited for my reaction of distaste.

"I know," I said. "I saw you there earlier, when I was following the Chief Constable around like a love-sick old fool. That was certainly an exercise in futility. Chasing him, I mean. Dabo is one also, I suppose, but you can have fun being futile there. Odo respects me now, but I don't know as whether I'd have liked his changeable body in bed more. I mean, just think of it! A male that can change ALL his measurements to suit his lady's mood? ALL of them?"

Leeta sat a moment, then got this terribly sly grin on her face. "If he were a female, I wonder if he'd have periodic egg-passing and swelling? At least for him, for her, it'd be no problem keeping his slender girlish figure. Eat whatever you like...!"

"Odo's clothes are the real him, think of the wardrobe he could have as a woman! See something in a holo, be wearing it before you can look back! Be the latest everything!"

Girl talk. It probably hadn't changed since....before Cochrane and Abe Lincoln.

Leeta had come from a district on Bajor. Her father a systems and machinery repair person, in one of the agricultural areas. Come the occupation and he was forced to fix things for the Cardassians. Some years ago they brought him and his daughter to DS9. They brought them here, to Hell, to die.

I assumed there was no longer any family.

"Why do you sit here?" I asked.

"I can pretend," she said. "I can pretend I'm invisible and I'm spying on them and discovering all their secrets. I can pretend they're part of my family and I'm keeping an eye on them. I can pretend I'm part of them, their lives, and they're part of mine. I can pretend after an hour or two I'm going to leave my perch for a nice place where I'm going to be well paid and everyone respects me."

I looked at her, sad inside. "Leeta," I hurried. "I'm a Betazoid. We can read other people's emotions and moods, at times, and we can be a hell of a good shoulder to cry on. If you want. I can't read minds, none of us can. But we can be Alpha Quadrant's best shoulders to cry on."

I touched her again, girl stuff, trying to ask her to be my shoulder to cry on. Come, little Dabo child, let's practice life. One little problem at a time. Most recent problems first. Such as finding out why and how some woman had recently broken your heart.

"Leeta, come with me. Find us someplace quiet, you're the native here, take me somewhere quiet where they have soft seats for old backsides and a drink that's hot and pleasant to an old tongue." With that I swung my feet up and pivoted to Promenade deck itself.

"First off, though, do you think you could find five or six muscular younglings to lever this body of mine erect?"

In the event one giggling female, one railing, and one Betazoid who didn't mind appearing ungraceful was quite enough.



The doorway was a flash of velvet, cherry and sienna, rust and Roc's Blood. The Psisil Tree it grandly said. The second we were inside, Leeta became instantly uneasy, but she pretended nothing was wrong. An older male showed us a little alcove with a tiny table and plenty of room for me to maneuver.

As she was off-center here, I made myself comfortable and discreetly officious to the staff. Leeta was broadcasting unease on all available band-widths, so I stalled the waiter while I tried to determine her distress.

I started telling her tales on my fellow ambassadorial busybodies, exaggerating where necessary. Most fact-finding missions, in my recall, couldn't find the floor if they fell down. Keeping it light, enlarging on my persona of witty and cantankerous gossip.

In the meantime I observed our fellow diners in what must be the station's most fashionable restaurant. Thin soup sort of a place if you were to ask me. It wisely kept it's pretensions to a minimum. The actual wooden table was a delight, however. Leeta explained the table was a wood native to Bajor, Psisil. In turn I noted wood this fine-grained would sell well in the luxury market before someone got the replicator formula right.

The explanation for the signals emanating here was not obvious until I picked up some of the rampant hormonal overload. Leeta had the grace to be extremely uncomfortable. This was the place where people, males with power or money brought their young females to be impressed. Nothing unusual.

My little Dabo girl was embarrassed to be here with a friend. Usually she came here when some panting male was attempting to surmount her objections. She probably got a meal and a small slice of the take. Poor child.

That was enough for me. "Come on, Leeta, this place is too fancy for me right now. I want something more...friendly. Can you take me where YOU go for a quiet moment?"

We breezed right out, ignoring the attempts by management to get me and my credit filche back inside. Leeta was in a storm-center inside, and I believed it was force of habit that had her take me to that den of over-chargers.

To her credit, Leeta pulled me against a curving wall to talk with me. "They let me eat and drink there cheap, because men buy me things in there..."

"I understand," I said. "I'm sure it is a wonderful place to eat. Only that isn't what I'm looking for. Can we go to your little hideaway? Let's go right now to wherever YOU go for a quiet place."

I reminded her I could read most emotions and knew she was sorry. She was unwilling to see a new friend overcharged. In turn I reminded her I was a female and knew what a girl had to do to survive sometimes. It's still a male's universe.

It was a very abject and confused Leeta that took me down......there, over here, and in this door...until we were in a tiny one-irised door Raktajino place. In seconds we were against a back wall, and the staff left us completely alone. The help was formidable, though. The big cats from Xenon A are a sight in any gathering. Over two meters tall, much of it muscular, but surprisingly difficult to anger. From her halter I presumed this one was female. We were sisters, in a way. Females ruled on both our planets.

The Xenon kept an eye on us, but otherwise returned to curling herself into a quiet ball on a stand between the Raktajino and Ice Cream. Patience in orange fur.

It took a while, but Leeta quieted. Great Mother, she was such an innocent in so many ways.

Most ordinary scams and deceits had ceased being novelties to me a T-century before this child was born. A little case of too-high prices was nothing. Looking at her as she loosened up again, I modified that age difference to a T-century and a quarter. I kept reciting to her what Betazoid abilities would have done to save me from most petty commercial thieveries. In my view, their tricks would have been delivered with all the subtlety of an asteroid impacting on a planet. They were already radiating like fusion flares by the time we sat down. Betazoid were never so blind we couldn't hear some messages. It just took time to convince Leeta it was still right between us. Mother save the innocents.

For some time I folded against Leeta, brushing shoulders, enjoying being maternal and giving. Regretting a life less useful than it had been. Once.... Once I would have been the focal point of this ambassadorial frenzy. Now politics was just so..so repetitive.

The Xenon A Tiger girl brought us some whites, a local Bajor drink. Tasted like a mixture of Lime and Quent. Didn't appeal to me, and probably most Terran humans. Then stood watching Leeta as she went off to the dumper to repair her face paint. Bajor obviously couldn't afford the good kind that will hold up to a bit of wear.

To my surprise the Tiger girl teleported instantly to the bench alongside me, silent as a cat in her moccasins. "So tell me, quick. How did you and Leeta meet? She's a sweet sheila, don't worry about that Quark's job of hers. She leads the males on, that's her job, but she doesn't take her work home with her, if you know what I mean.

"How long have you known her? Are you passing through? I never knew she liked older femmes, you're not offended are you? You're human aren't you? My names Woota, it's actually several syllables long in Standard, so everyone calls me Woota. Gonna stay long? If so, Hoho could probably come up with a nice big cabin down in the sixth level where they're rebuilding the storage cells. If you give him a few days. What do you do? I like the suit, it looks simple and very Martian. Here come two friends of hers, you've got to meet them!"

She motioned two males to the table, and Tiger introduced them to me, I introduced myself as Lwaxana, they were human-derivative. Tshien and Hekator.

"Oh, I see Leeta is moving up in the Galaxy!" the shorter one said. "Glad to see a little class in this dive, it could use it. I'm glad to see Leeta's gotten off that Buddhadamned stage above the
Promenade. Just sit there, moping, being dramatically heartbroken ever since that little slot from Regnir, what was her name...?"

"Mitlis or Witless or something like that. Knew she was going to use Let and throw her away, first time I saw them together. It was no surprise to me, let me tell you, when it got around the tight-assed slot was married to a male back on the homeworld. Didn't I tell you all? That slot was going to be pain to our Dabo queen."

I'd already figured it all out when I saw the purple squares lovingly painted on the replicator. Soon as we walked through the door. At least it was nice to know Leeta had a few friends.

Surprisingly, the Tiger girl took a mocassin off and was quickly rubbing her paw-foot on my old shins. It felt uplifting to be leched at by the Tiger female. Playing the part, I took one delightfully furred hand in mine and gave it a kiss. She giggled for that. There are few things more unlikely than two meters plus of muscular feline going giggly over an old humanoid like myself.

"Is that one of those Vulcan silk-cotton blend suits? If only I had the money," Hekator sighed.

"Oh sweet humanoid, do be a doll and let everyone feel the EXQUISITE texture on that suit of yours?" Woota asked. As the two males felt my sleeves, Woota inched closer. With her foot-paw still caressing my leg.

"If you ever feel like venturing to the wild side," she said, "I do enjoy most humanoids, if they appeal to me." At which point she licked my shoulder and twisted so that her paw was kneading my thigh. All that attention did this old Betazoid ego a galaxy of good.

Leeta was absolutely floored by the time she exited. There was I with a foot-paw in my lap, scratching between the claws. Leeta standing by the dumper while everyone said `hi' at her.

The Tiger was stretched out on the back bench with me, with one unshod foot in my lap being energetically scratched. Xenon's still had vestigial pads and retractable claws on their small toes. It was a novelty scratching where she couldn't get to easily. I could stand that purring all day and tomorrow long. Music to old ears.

"Oh, Leeta, my dearest love, you get tired of this one, send her my way." Woota made ecstatic noises when I found an especially good spot between the index claw and for-claw.

"Oh God! Do you believe in long engagements, Lwaxana? Tell me that you don't. Be my wife. You can scratch my pad ANYTIME. Lwaxana, delightful female, has anyone ever told you that you give great finger?"


We had been left to our own devices now. I kept smelling clean Leeta, knowing her body was next to mine.

"You meant to let me guess, didn't you Leeta?" About her liking girls. She hasn't used the word bi to me.

She nodded her head, giving me a sideways question. "No, I'm not offended. It's quite touching, you're trying to be honest with the stranger. Why?"

"Because so much of my day is involved with being dishonest. Away from my job I want to be as much me as possible. Not some Dabo girl that smiles and giggles and quivers when somebody puts their hands on me. And I've still got to smile.

"I need some place and some one and some time where I can abandon the Dabo girl and be me. It's very important to have this time."

"Why me?" I asked.

"You looked to be a kind listener and were at the right place at the right time. I suppose I'm using you. Are you mad? Do you mind?"

Ignoring that offer, I looked in her eyes again. "Care to tell me about her? The one that broke your heart?"

"Oh. Her." Sighing dramatically. Leeta had an innate sense of theatre. "It was such a nasty little tale told forty times before. She's a spacer, married, a pair of children on Rigner, and I wound up being the female in this port.

"She's a first on a Rignerian freighter. She found Quark's and she sees me. She swore I was her first female, and she didn't know I liked femmes. But she'd had too many ethanol's. For fun she decided to make a hook on the Dabo girl, see if she bit on it.

"She started acting friendly, touching, rubbing, interested. It was fun getting picked up like that. Without Quark or his brother realizing their employee was having less and less interest in that damned Dabo game, and more and more interest in this customer who kept touching me.

"After work, we went to my little place where she whispered things in my ear, just like a male does, when we made love. Promises, hopes, some truths, many lies. Just like a male. Her marriage and younglings back home on Regnir she never mentioned. Nothing to share with the Dabo slot.

"She didn't even have any scars on her belly. I've since learned what a higher scale of medical aid can do, nothing like on Bajor or up here. Until Doctor Bashir came.

"In the end it was obvious I was just something exciting to do when she hit DS9. In the end she didn't even bothering trying to explain her lies. She'd used me and that was the end of it. Like a male."

I patted her hand once. "It still makes me furious to see how stupid I'd been. She never took me around to see her crewmates, or showed me holo's from home. You know, there were the classic signs. I should have guessed." A pause.

It was time to end the cycle of depression and self-flagellation. "You mean she started like this?" I asked. Placing myself against her, leaning against the young pretty Dabo girl. So young. She exuded the sleek appeal I knew I had never had. Leeta gave me the funniest look then. Not entirely sure what next to do.

"Tell me, Leeta, did this female smile at you, like I'm doing? Did she touch your hand or run a finger down your side? Was her hand eventually giving your hips or side quick little touchings where other people couldn't see her do it?"

My hand found the small of her back, then traveled to the swells of her lovely hips, then her side opposite me. Not pulling Leeta to me, but she was knowing my hand was around her. I could feel the frenzy of spikes in her thoughts. The confusion. A shade of fear. A wave, just unrolling, of anticipation. Surprise. Wondering. Warmth where my hand or hip touched her. A quick thread of wanting.

"Lwaxana?" she asked in a strained alto. I leaned to one side to kiss her arm, then her shoulder. My hand was traveling up and down her side, then as I leaned into the side of her face, that caressing hand cupped the side of her breast.

Poor Leeta was frozen, unsure which way to jump. I kissed her cheek, my hand finding the line of her spine and shoulders. My tongue finding her Bajoran earring and pulling on it gently. Turned that way I put my other hand on her thigh, light finger tracings. I could feel her quivering, her knees shaking. When I made to bring my fingers to the top of her thigh Leeta's hand stopped me.

Squeaky voice. "Lwaxana...?"

"Hmmmm?", rubbing my cheek against her shoulder. Oh, she smelled of strange spices and new beginnings, different planets and anticipation. Or I imagined so.

"Everyone's watching...?"

I opened my eyes, and they were. "It bothers you?" In a world where naturalism, nudity was the accepted mode of dress, I'd learned to be more open in my displays of affection.

"I... It... Yes" a timid nibble of a word.

I looked around. Woota instantly returned to her stool, and Hekator and Tshien immediately found something to look at in the surface of their table. In the corner directly across two males wouldn't have noticed if the Borg attacked. They had other things on their minds. Two Bajoran females at the counter were reading a Padd. The one glanced and gave her girlfriend a nudge. I waved back.

Returning to Leeta I made to return to her earring-bedecked ear, and she backed away. So I kissed her arm. Rubbed her upper thigh some more. Very lightly. And let my left hand drift a trail of touches down her back. Cupping the further curve of soft asscheek. Ladylike. Feeling that sense of fire existing in my lower belly again. All praises be... I'd been afraid I'd forgotten how.

Lwaxana..." Leeta crawled my name. It sounded beautiful in her throat. "This is... Too fast. Please...."

"Of course...but tell me one thing first, and it's utmostly important, sweet Leeta." She looked at me hesitantly. "Do you think it would be acceptable if this old foolish female invited you to her
cabin? I'd like to continue in a more private location something I want your advice on." Quizzical look on Leeta.

"Somebody once described love as a moveable feast. Do you think I'm to old to have a dinner with?"


~~~~~ Cabin Rho 19, LL1 ~~~~~

It had been an enjoyable return to my cabin, with a multitude of side trips. Leeta was giggling at odd times. A high-pitched unsteady sort of a giggle. Not entirely sure what she was letting herself in for, or what her ultimate response would be. Hoping mixed with a high sexual fever. This gorgeous female was feeling amorous in my company. I get back home I'll sacrifice a thousand fatted calves and Jean-Luc besides. But uncertainty lay before her, this was somehow far beyond her expectations.

For myself, I'll admit the prospect of holding that superb body or kissing that lovely face excited me as it might some male. Well, I couldn't reproduce some male reactions, but I could feel my body being very warm.

Since leaving "Another Road" I had not touched Leeta, letting her decide whether or not to go further. At least she wasn't making excuses of disengagement. Her emotions were bubbling, and her cheeks were flushed. I could practically hear her heart. She had no fear in her. Only hopes of fun, excitement and new trust. Somewhere along the way she'd decided to do a very female thing with me and trust me.

We had brought a few sta's of food, mostly from the Promenade. A few meaningless items, nothing expensive. Leeta's had her fill of humanoids trying to purchase her slender body.

The centerpiece of it all, though, was Leeta herself. Moving with fluid grace, aware of my close study of her body, her face, her laugh, the way now she'd allow her fingers to touch me. In a cove not far from security she had pulled me to her. Held me. Let me give her a quick kiss.

Leeta liked the cabin, larger than her own, but still Cardassian cold in design. Once inside I put our little bag of foods and clothes by the door. Her back was to me and she felt warm as a fire, to my senses. I went to her, never more aware of the twinges of a century and a half of living.

She sighed when I brought my decrepit body to hers, my belly feeling the smooth flows of her backside, my hands moving up to weigh her young firm breasts. She slowly rubbed herself back into my embrace and my body. Enjoying the feel of another warm female. She turned, holding my arms, backstepping.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Lwaxana Troi?" She took a step towards me, then another. She could take no more without me falling down, not so unlikely a prospect.

She was no longer running away. The hunted, turning on the hunter. Waiting for my next move. Which was to raise my arms to let her curl into the curve of them.

The first kiss was all glory and light, a touch progressing into much more. The second had us staring each other's eyes, her mouth waiting for the touch of tongue. The third was with closed eyes and the stuttering flicking of tonguetips. The fourth began with my tongue going from side to side of her mouth, her lips sucking on my tongue. The fifth left bruising, my body warm all over as I felt her breasts with mine, her hands on my sides and back.

The sixth was cut short when she groaned, a reaction to the back of one hand quickly rubbing her groin. The seventh was swallowed by our cries as her hand hurried across my belly to find my clothed sex.

It was as if there were a fire in my abdomen, directly connecting a spot in my lower belly to my sex.

"Leeta," I managed. "Humpghmmm?", she managed, burrowing into my now-rumpled shirt. Tongue licking the lines of sweat gathering in the hollow of my neck. How had it gotten so hot in here so quickly?

"I'm in the range of being six times your age, sexy child. My body is old, very old. My body sags everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. And I doubt very much if this could be much more than one lovely interlude. Or two or ten. I don't even know if I can please you....

"Leeta...are you sure you want to continue with this?"

"If I say yes, what'll you do?"

"Probably precipitate my death throes." Leeta kept alternating between caressing my neck and fondling my body, such as it was. It was getting harder to think, my skin felt steamed, and my ankles were complaining. My shoulder was complaining again, my backside wanted a seat under it, and I'd never felt so alive in years.

Leeta managed to get my jacket and shirt off somehow. My hands had become ten thumbs and I could not help her. Then I worked on her clothes. She was better at this than I was. At least she knew the bind line swung from her left neckline of her colorful dress, to her right hip.

She made to help take more of my clothes, but waited for me to fumble myself out of my pants and shoes. By that point I'd called computer to dim us to 20%, in an effort to hide some of my worst points. I touched my bra to retract and curl, only then realizing Leeta was already standing there in her bare skin. It even looked smooth to the touch. I felt like a bag of wrinkles.

It had been so long. So long since my last....loving. So long since I anticipated it so much. So long since I had a nearly perfect body standing before me. So VERY long since the last time a young female waited for my touch. Mine.

She came to me, giggling as I somehow got my unders off my big fat backside. She lifted and kissed first one breast, than the other. I ran my fingers through her rich thick hair as her mouth and tongue, her teeth and fingers found my drooping nipples, the undersides of my pendulous old woman's breasts.

Plasm hitting them couldn't have made me more alive. She'd found my groin again. She felt the sag of belly and hip, her hands caressed the aged muscles in my thighs.

I mumbled something and Leeta raised her head to look into my eyes. "Please... Let me... Sit down, if I don't do something...."

She sat down on the edge of the couch, her hands playing with my nips as I leaned over her to taste her lips and neck anew. I quivered, my knees threatened to give way, and my belly threatened to overload its fusion core. It felt hot, my sex felt surreal with tension. Her hand dipped again to my groin, mine following to caress her fondling fingers. And find something amazing. I was managing to lubricate. At my age.

Before I had to lay down, or came to a point where my knees couldn't stand me kneeling, something had to be done.

"Only...let's go to the bedroom. I need my soft bed right now."

I think I didn't need to lean on her slight shoulders more than two times. My knees felt like castanets.

She didn't object when I made motions for her to lay back on the bed. If I wanted to enjoy her body first, she could bend to that wish. Oddly enough the more I kissed her, the more I traced fingers over her firm young breasts, the younger I felt. When I spent long moments in caressing her belly-button with my tongue, my body raised not a single objection of pain.

I could not touch her enough. Such warm smooth skin, such life to it. Even in this light I could see the flush that covered her from brow to feet. Already a light sheen of sweat wet her chest, her
hands moved to help me or to cup her hardening nips. It was with a song shouting in my blood that I finally came down to that most precious part of her, next to her unique sentient mind.

Her thighs spasmed when my fingers first ran through her patch of fragrant body hair. She edged her legs open, seeking whatever I might decide to do to or for her.

"Computer," I asked. "Increase lighting to 100%." I bent to examine my prize.

"Leeta," I began. "Do all Bajorans have these circles...there? They look like your, your clit, it's the center of a bulls-eye, a sexy little target." She giggled at my surprise.

"All Bajoran women have them." She jumped when I lightly caressed each of the three circles. "They're just ridging and skin darkening."

When she jerked her knees in the air I also knew they could be a sensitive spot. It must have been as if she had one clit and fifty ancillary lesser clits.

"It's not usually, it's rarely, they're not supposed to be sensitive like that," she mumbled.

What could I do with an invitation like that except to lower myself (swiftly!) (painlessly!) to the bed, bumping her thighs with my shoulders. My hands touched the insides of her thighs and she opened herself happily to me.

She was an Exo flower, petals thickening as my touchings stirred her. The scent of her was a treasure, a fragrance forgotten through the years. She leered down at me, gasping when my first kiss was centered on the tiny white pearl visible at the top of her sex. I licked it, kissing again and again, enjoying the taste of this woman. I felt a tenth my age. My groin, my blood sang to savor the tangy saltiness of her. I ran my lips down her petals, feeling my own blood sing when I leaned forward, bending my now supple neck to taste the entrance of her life, her sex.

I lost myself in the tastes and the heat. I was a famished traveler, a shipwreck, suddenly given sweetest food and finest wine. I couldn't get enough of her as her hips rocked and arched.

She said something and I opened my eyes to look up at her. Her tongue was caught in her teeth, her eyes in pain. She could not speak, but her fingers spoke for her. Legs widespread, muscles
corded in her strong thighs, her fingers had stretched the skin and flesh at the top of her sex. Trying to tauten the clit, asking without words for my next move.

Her groin hairs tickled my nose, I inhaled her like perfume, my tongue, then my lips feasted on her love bead. She became louder, her hips circling, her fingers white-knuckled. I tried to make her tiny steel bolt of a clit tighter, better. It was hidden in the depths of her flesh, jerking, trying to thrust out. I sucked it into my mouth, chewing with increased frenzy as she tottered on the top of the slide.

Then she wailed. Her knees jerked in the air, her head flew from side to side, the scent of her deepened, I could feel her fluids with my finger.

She grabbed my head, let go, grabbed again, pulling me to her center, letting go. Wailing again and again. I kept sucking, nibbling, letting her clit feel my teeth.

I felt a teenager with her.

Even after she was through I stayed there. My face to her inviting mound, enjoying her scent. Enjoying the look in her eyes as she gazed down at me.

In a second she had twisted to kiss me. I dipped fingers inside her many times, letting us both taste her. Ambrosia and nectar.

"My turn," she said. Cupping my mound, fingering me in a gentle masturbation. Fingers to mouth, time after time, her girl's touch, exciting me, warming me, creating fire in my belly again.

"Leeta, darling..." I managed. She took it for a request, a warning, a statement of wants.

"Of course, sweetheart, whatever you want. Here, scoot up, let me help you, relax...." In moments I was spread on the bed and it was she whose legs dangled off the edge. I opened for my lover, hoping for so much, wanting it all. Then...

"Lwaxana, darlin', do you mind if I get some light here?" She called computer to put the lights back up. I worried she might be repelled by the sag and wrinkles, but her thoughts were focused elsewhere.

She was entranced by my groin. She ran fingers through my thick hair, smiling a sly grin. "You're all white haired here. That is so cute. You have hair treatments? You look so gorgeous with that garden of white flourishing there. I love to touch it." Wonder of wonders she liked my body. There at least. There was more to come.

"A garden. Yes. Oh, you're opening so for me when I touch you." Her head dipped and my body wound tight in my belly, I had to finger my hardened nipples, lift and enjoy my tired breasts. Then her mouth dipped again.

"Has anyone ever... Your lips, no, your petals... They're growing larger and larger, puffing out. Has anyone ever told you that you look like an opening flower? Thick petals calling for a touch or a kiss, a blossom of white and pink. You smell soft and light, you taste..." If she enjoyed looking at me from that perspective, the lights could stay on and bright until this Station fell into Bajor's sun. I saw her wet two fingers in her mouth and I groaned. When she put them inside me I....

So good, so damned many times good, and I could feel it getting better as her mouth returned to me. The hell with the lights.



Leeta touched me, and I awoke purring. It had been a loving and exciting night. I was amazed to find almost no muscles or bones unhappy or complaining.

She was by my side, her hand idly finding my belly button. I patted that hand, twisting to kiss her. The taste of her lips was pleasing, thrilling, satisfying. She tasted of me and I of her. I hadn't remembered how satisfying it could be with a woman who wants you, much less a young one. I hadn't awakened with a woman in my bed since... Had it been THAT long?

Our noses could have touched, so her whispered words were clearly heard. My tired hairs were the target of her hands until she finally asked a few questions of me. I'd been expecting more of them, and earlier.

Let us begin, I thought. This has been far too hurried an affair. We should have talked more. But we both knew I was offering a few cycles of fun, not a lifelong commitment. Such a burning joy she was, so alive, so perfect, so marvelously accepting of my old woman's flesh and frame.

"Lwaxana....who was your first woman?" Very astute. She didn't ask for my first love.

So many things she could have asked. My family, my position, children, she didn't even know whether or not I had a husband waiting for me on Beta Z Prime. She wanted to know...of my first woman.

She kept distracting me by sucking on my nipples, or letting her hands wander over my belly, but I think I managed to keep focused on the story.

"At one time I was in love with a Vulcan, or thought I was. He was a brave StarFleet officer, and he served on the flagship of the fleet. He would accept none of my shameless invitations and continually left for adventures in nearby space.

"I had a medical degree, and I was important, so I was able to become a medical nurse in StarFleet. I was a doctor, but I took the position of nurse just to serve. One day his ship came back, and my application to join was accepted.

"Do you know I'd been altered to appeal to my love? Not the ears, thank you, but made a little bit older, to appear more.....his type of female. Oh, what stupid things I've done...

"It was fun in many ways, there were many things I experienced and saw that even today I have trouble believing. Some are still under official Federation seal.

"My romance, however, was a complete disaster. He was so enwrapped in his hard sciences and his ties to the ship and to his fellow Bridge officers that he had no time for the skinny nurse with the thin legs and the skimpy bosom. He never took me to bed once. Not once. I shudder to think how many times I threw myself at him.

"Eventually my hope died and I was heartbroken, positive I'd never find a love like him again.

"There was, however, a lovely communications officer on the ship who'd watched my fruitless mating attempts. Charming, strong, fierce at times, a marvelous player of harp, rich dark brown skin, swirling black hair, patient, oh, so many things. Mostly she was my friend and eventually she became my lover. I still miss her, her and the rest of that crazed ship of overly-daring adventurers.

"She had ebon eyes, she could sing like a diva and she always wore a musky scent. Very exciting. They allowed her to use a name other than her own. The name she used on the ENTERPRISE was Uhura."

to be continued in FAREWELL BAJOR, FAREWELL
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