Title: NOCTURNE: MOVEMENTS IN THE DARK
Author: Lyrastar ( lyrastarwatcher@yahoo.com )
Series: TNG
Codes: T/Y, PWP
Parts: 1/1
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters and all things Trek are the property of Paramount/Viacom. The fantasy is all mine!
Thanks to Rich and longbeachtrekstar for the beta help.
Archiving: FFF, ASC*, BLTS (if Anne wants it), and my site at www.oocities.org/lyrastarwatcher Others, please ask first.
Feedback: any kind wanted at < lyrastarwatcher@yahoo.com >
Summary: Sometimes a dance is just a dance.
Note: Part of the FFF at http://www.oocities.org/femme_fuhq_fest/
by Lyra - July 2003
"Dance with me, Tasha!" Deanna panted between heavy breaths.
Deanna had whirled and braked to a stop just at the edge of the elevated dance floor. Her skin glistened damp and her chest heaved in time with the pulse of the music of the band. Her eyes sparkled bright with life and she extended one manicured hand down from the platform to the woman she had just picked out of the crowd.
The chronometer read close to high noon, but here at the Risa Old Fashioned Dance Hall it was always the wee hours. A haze of steel-blue smoke pumped continuously out at floor level to swirl lazily around the dancers' ankles. Multicolored vapor lamps on the wall illuminated the gloom with an ever-changing array of beams that danced to a tune of their own devices. From the ceiling, a painted sky portrayed the heavens with electrified lumonium crystals piercing the black in place of stars. The supernatural rays from the artificial constellations glittered and twinkled and spiraled to the ground, drawn magnetically by the charms of Deanna's luxuriant hair. It made for an enchanting site.
"I don't dance," said Tasha firmly slamming her arms across her chest in the multi-culturally recognized gesture of avoidance. She wouldn't drink. She didn't smoke. Drugs were an anathema. She stood at ease, completely alone in the massive crowd. Although not on duty, she wore her everyday security uniform. In all honesty, she wondered why she had even come.
"Oh, it's easy." Deanna tossed her head and smiled broadly, spilling cascades of rich black curls over her shoulders. Tasha had to admit, when the prim and proper ship's Counselor deigned to let her hair down, she really was quite a woman. The low-cut dress left little of her bosom to the imagination and put most of it directly in Tasha's admiring line of sight.
Deanna persisted, "Come on, I'll show you." Her fingers waggled as if to accentuate the point.
Tasha said irritably, "I said, that I don't dance, not that I can't dance. As a counselor, surely you know the difference." Her eyes darted around trying to find somewhere else to look. It wasn't easy.
"Of course!" Deanna chirped. "And since, as an empath, I already know that you want to, we won't have a problem. Come on." Still panting lightly, Deanna flexed her palm in invitation towards Tasha's tightly clenched arms. For a moment they stood deadlocked, one laughing, one defiant. And then, unexpectedly, something gave way between them.
Without really understanding how it happened, Tasha somehow found herself being led up the steps and onto the dance floor.
"Not like that," Deanna reprimanded as they struggled to find a comfortable position. "Like this." Deanna took Tasha's right hand and placed it firmly on the cheek of her ass.
"Deanna!--" Tasha's voice rose an octave, but the ostensible protest died unanswered as her hand settled in comfortably where it had landed.
"What's the matter, don't you like girls?" Deanna asked rhetorically. She jiggled her butt and continued easily, "Now that's better. Just relax. You'll like this dance. It's the specialty of the house. People come from light-years around just for the experience."
"For a dance?" Tasha asked, curious despite herself. She looked around. The floor was indeed packed with couples, trios and other groupings in combinations that defied any one definition.
"Mm-hm. It's called The Dance in Perpetuity," Deanna said as she snuggled against Tasha's finely toned body.
Tasha made a token effort for distance, but found herself thwarted at every pull.
"Are we going to dance or are you going to fight me?" Deanna grumbled, head resting lightly on her chest.
Tasha dodged the question. As they swirled together, the hem of Deanna's dress swept deep into the swell of her trousers, teasing and enticing every time the fabric brushed soft against her leg. Deanna's very female scent filled her nose, intoxicating her further with every breath. The primal rhythm of the steel drum band thrummed through her bones and stirred something deep inside. It had been a very long time since her senses had been filled in this way. It had been a long time since she'd had the luxury of feeling sensual. The whole of the experience was nice. Very nice, indeed.
Tasha's pulled her thoughts off of that track. "Why 'The Dance in Perpetuity'?"
"Probably because it's the oldest dance in the galaxy. People have been doing it together since the dawn of time immemorial." Deanna's lilt gave the words a wicked timbre and she winked up into Tasha's gaze.
A very bad feeling started to prickle in the recesses of Tasha's mind and a red alert sounded deep within her gut. "Deanna, just what have you gotten me into?"
Deanna looked up and gave her a mischievous grin. "Oh, nothing that you didn't want to be a part of, I assure you." Deanna nuzzled her head neatly, proficiently, in the demure furrow of Tasha's breasts.
Tasha took a moment to glance around. Everywhere about her were the unmistakable signs of beings in heat. Men rubbed themselves discreetly, rubbed their partners less so. Women preened and stretched. Somewhere a woman squealed. The smell of sex was in the air.
Tasha shifted her hips uncomfortably. "Deanna, I thought you and Will--"
"You shouldn't presume so much, Tasha," Deanna cooed. "It leads to errors in judgment and you wouldn't want that, would you?" The Counselor deliberately fitted herself in between Tasha's muscular legs and took great delight in Tasha's unsuccessful attempts to back away.
"Tasha!" Deanna laughed. "Relax, will you? I asked you for this dance." She winked. "Or have you forgotten? Now in a few seconds they will turn the lights out--"
"Lights out?" Tasha blurted. "Then what?"
"What usually happens when two people are alone in the dark?" Deanna asked and dropped her right hand suggestively down to Tasha's slender waist. "And I really suggest that you relax, or this will be no fun at all."
Tasha's left hand flopped and floundered for somewhere to land. It found the cinch of Deanna's waist and settled in for the duration. Her hand glided in time with the music along the ample curves of Deanna's hips they moved and swayed to the sensual beat.
Her eyes came to rest upon the liquid movements of Deanna's cleavage. The heavy breasts lunged and rolled, dipped and swayed, taking on a life of their own to the beat of three-quarter time. The uneven neckline teased like a coquette, promising a glimpse then pulling back at just the last. Tasha stared mesmerized. The physics seemed impossible. At any moment the neckline must give way and one luscious nipple would break free up and over the top. Eyes glued to the neckline she watched and waited. She moved as one hypnotized, eyes on the prize.
And then the lights went out.
Suddenly Tasha found herself flush full of Counselor. The cream of Betazoid was everywhere, in her arms, in her mouth, between her legs. Tasha's willful body overruled the last of her mind's protestations. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest and her breathing came hard as she felt the soft promise moving beneath her. Impatient now, she pushed the bushels of hair aside and moved her mouth down to the sumptuous breasts. Down to where it longed to be.
It seemed more like a dream when it finally happened. Deanna groaned her name. The simple shock of hearing it said aloud in that way, in that tone, in her voice, reeled Tasha back to some sense of reason.
"Deanna, " she murmured, not deigning to take her lips away from the delicious curves they worshipped, "how long will this last?"
"Two minutes the first time, then the lights come back on for five, then off again for four, back on for five and off for the last eight."
"I won't make it until then," Tasha said sucking at her breasts compulsively. In the dark, her hands pawed the corset bodice, too overwhelmed to think. Too impassioned to leave the front long enough to find the secret release mechanism she craved.
"You don't have to; this is Risa." Deanna laughed and adjusted herself with proficiency. A nipple popped out and straight into Tasha's mouth.
Tasha groaned in satisfaction and suckled the plump areola, almost too big to be eaten completely, into her eager mouth. She could feel a rubbery ridge around the edge, much more distinct than a human's would be, and wondered what color it would be in the light of day. The idea of the alien sexual secrets waiting beneath her fingertips only fired her senses higher.
She ran her hand inside the bodice and cupped the sensitive underside of the breast. She caressed it gently with the pads of her fingers in that marvelous manner that men just never seemed to master.
Deanna sighed and leaned heavily into Tasha's neck. Her soft curls tickled and teased Tasha's skin. Tasha's movements became frenzied and rough as she licked and sucked in the desperation. Then suddenly, with a nasal whine, Deanna bit down hard on her neck.
Tasha's eyes flew open wide in surprise, but it did no good; still she could see nothing in the dark. The sharp little Betazoid teeth didn't break the skin, but they certainly did make the point. Tasha disengaged herself from the nipple. She sucked in her breath and, collecting herself, bent down and bestowed one last single, reverent kiss.
"Sorry," Tasha said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Don't be," Deanna whispered. Her voice had grown thick with desire. She ground her pelvis against Tasha's hip in time to the music. Tasha noted with some surprise that the band was still playing. She had all but forgotten that they were even there.
"I'm so hot for you, I think I could come just with you eating my nipples," Deanna whispered into her ear. As if to underscore the point, her sharp little Betazoid teeth began nipping and nibbling, at the earlobe dangling in front of them.
Tasha hissed and felt her clit swell in her pants. She squeezed her little muscles reflexively at the feeling. Perhaps by accident Deanna's thigh misstepped in the dance and Tasha heard herself say a name. For a trio of seconds Tasha ground her pelvis against the lovely heat. She squirmed to try to re-seat herself against the pleasure burst she had known, but then Deanna sailed away. Tasha made a mindless sound, whether triggered by the contact found or lost, she didn't know.
In the dark the empath seemed oddly oblivious to Tasha's turmoil.
"But," Deanna continued, shying away, just barely out of reach, "I think they are about to turn on the lights, and it would be a shame for you to have to arrest me for conduct unbecoming an officer."
Or was she?
"Arrest you?" Tasha's voice perked up. "You mean, I could drag your sweet little ass out in handcuffs?" The lecherous devil inside her head broke free of his cage and leapt and ran wild around her brain at the thought. But she caught him and restrained him securely. She took a stabilizing breath.
Deanna giggled. There was a rustle in the dark and Tasha had a sudden vision of Deanna's tucking her bosom back within the ridiculous little bodice, stroking her breasts carelessly with her own fingers. Touching herself...
A fresh flow of juice welled up between her legs and Tasha touched herself secretly under the veil of darkness. The devil craned his head to watch and she rubbed her clit a little harder still.
"What are you thinking about?" Deanna pressed as she moved back against her body.
"Why ask if you already know?" Tasha teased, kissing her neck compulsively.
"Because it turns me on to hear you talk dirty," Deanna whispered.
And then the lights came on.
Deanna was dancing in her arms looking very much as before. Her hair had the same indeterminate look of thoughtless disarray. The sateen dress had come through utterly unscathed; the evidence of any kisses had been efficiently wicked away by the miracle of modern textile production. Tasha marveled: how could two minutes change everything, yet leave all appearances so outwardly unmoved? Surely there should be something to show for it. Surely the world should be transformed by now.
Deanna's eyes still had the same mischievous twinkle; her pouty lips still held that ever-present promise. But, yes, now her face was flushed and her lips swelled red and thick. And if one looked very closely, her breasts still bore the sticky evidence of those precious liberties she had allowed Tasha to take with her during those precious minutes in the dark.
Tasha could not bear to look at her in the same way that she smiled up; her vision was blurred with lust. When she looked at the breasts she tasted them filling her mouth. When she looked at the lips she felt them as they would move hot and full between her legs. And the eyes. Above all else, she dare not look into the deep, black holes of those eyes.
And so they danced waist to waist, chest to chest, breath to breath, counting the seconds. Each one was agony. They dipped and swayed, skin burning though the weave of the cloth, each pass a torment, until they could take no more. Tasha twisted her head decisively and eagerly, hungrily, kissed her hard on the mouth.
From the observation gallery Ensign Sinclair pointed with a laugh. Geordi silenced the new recruit with a decisive word. Sinclair turned back to her date and they wandered off petulantly back to the bar. Geordi pulled Data out of the door and on to pursuits of a different nature. The android's litany was lost in the thrum of the music as they pushed through the crowd and out.
Finally, mercifully, the lights went out.
Tasha snaked a hand up and under Deanna's floor-length gown. Her legs were long and smooth and as much as she ached to linger over every inch, she wanted to reach the secret pinnacle even more. When she nudged the special spot, Deanna shuddered and whimpered in delight. Tasha stroked her prize with pleasure, but she could not feign surprise. She had known all along there wouldn't be any panties. Deanna just wasn't the type.
She was also pleased to find Deanna didn't depilate. Lightly, she fingered the curly hairs below. The patch was rich and thick--a perfect mirror for the curly mound above. She licked her lips in unconscious anticipation of how that tangled thatch would smell. The primal smell of women in love did something to her insides that she could neither describe nor define. But she could never get enough.
She ran a finger through the middle where the hair seeped slick and dank with the essence of what it was to be a woman. The thick liquid dripped out onto her hand and her own crotch wept in sympathy. She worked a finger in between the lips and Deanna moaned and melted into her arms.
"Tasha."
"Mm?"
"Let me--taste myself," Deanna whispered into her ear.
You little slut, Tasha thought. Nonetheless, she brought her fingers out and up to Deanna's face.
The first attempt was a near miss in the dark. The thick Betazoid juice smeared all over her nose and Deanna laughed and took a whiff. "I smell good." She stuck out her tongue, found Tasha's finger, and drew it in all the way.
Tasha gasped and sucked in her breath.
She had never wanted to be a man. Never with all the baggage that it would entail. But to have a penis, to be able to take a woman like this, to be able to be taken by a woman like this, now this was exquisite.
The mouth enveloped her and welcomed her in. She swore that she could feel her finger actually thicken, lengthen and swell with each suck of Deanna's sweet mouth. In the dark it became not only a finger, but that organ she would never have. Would never have any place but here--here in the dark.
She thrust and pumped and balled her knuckles up against Deanna's lips. She supposed she must have hurt her, but she was beyond caring now. With her other hand she grabbed Deanna's hair and held her head in tight. She tilted her hips to an unnatural angle and pressed them hard against Deanna's willing belly. Her focus narrowed to the throb in her clit and the suck of mouth against shaft until--
"Fuck!" Tasha pulled away in frustration but Deanna was too fast. She grabbed her by the waist and held her close until her heartbeat slowed to a roar.
Tasha closed her ears fearing to hear those fatal words. Tasha, what's wrong? How do you explain twenty years of confusion inside of twenty seconds?
But the words never came. Deanna just held her tight. She didn't ask for anything at all.
That, in itself, made all the difference. Tasha kissed her long and deep reveling in the softness of her lips. With a twinge of regret she pulled away. "Deanna, will you let me taste you?"
"I don't think we have very long," Deanna still swayed with her to the music of the drums. But it didn't sound like much of a protest.
Tasha went to her knees.
Tasha slipped under the voluminous skirt. The view was the same. There was only darkness all around but the aroma of female sex was suffocating now. But now it all smelled like Deanna. She extended her tongue and caught a pearl of moisture. It dissolved away in the back of her throat and she savored every wondrous drop.
She clamped her hands around Deanna's thighs then, rooting with her nose, she went in for the kill, licking and sucking for all she was worth.
Deanna shuddered and clamped her legs together. Tasha emerged her face slick and hot. Somehow she pulled herself erect. When the lights came on they were both in disarray and neither could maintain the pretense. Nor did they care to. They were wild women in heat.
Deanna cupped her ass. Deanna shuddered. Tasha manhandled her breasts. "I'm going to ravage you before the five minutes are up," she breathed into her ear.
Deanna nuzzled, "Good, I can't wait much longer. I want you inside of me now."
Tasha put a hand against her crotch and Deanna thrust her pelvis against it grinding into it with all her might.
Deanna moved to put a hand lightly against the front of Tasha's trousers. Instinctively, Tasha jumped back from the unwelcome gesture, but Deanna didn't press any further in; she seemed somehow to know. She left her hand resting on the little bulge in front and stroked it lightly, almost as one might do to a man. Tasha tilted her hips toward it.
Tasha heard a groan. Much to her surprise, it came from her own mouth. She rocked her pelvis in time to the music, hypnotized by the feeling of the fingers that stroked her mons through her uniform.
"Please, Deanna," she panted, "this is torture. Is there some place we can go? I don't want to end this in the dark. I want to see your face."
"Outside," Deanna agreed hastily. Tasha grabbed her by the wrist and they dashed out the door and into the alley.
No sooner were they outside in the midday light than Tasha threw Deanna up against the wall. She raised her skirt, inserted three fingers and fucked her with everything she had. Deanna bucked and kicked and spasmed and moaned and came with a scream that turned heads for a half kilometer. Tasha inhaled long and deep from her own sticky hand, before wiping it off, regretfully, on her uniform.
With a chuckle Deanna collapsed against Tasha's arms and made a weak motion for Tasha's groin but Tasha firmly pushed her hand away and locked her arms around her waist.
"But you didn't have any pleasure," Deanna argued.
"Wanna bet?" Tasha giggled happily. "What sort of a fucking empath are you anyway if you can't even tell?" Her usually austere face was positively transformed in the afterglow. It was like that of no one Deanna had ever seen before.
"A pretty fucking good one, if I must say so myself," Deanna bantered back, taking in Tasha in all her glory. It suited her well.
"No argument from me pretty lady." Tasha smiled and shook her head. "Damn, who knew?"
Deanna briefly wondered which one of them she was speaking of. Then Tasha reached out and pulled her close. It didn't seem to matter.
~Lyra
July 2003