Title: SO NEAR

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

Series: DS9/TNG

Code: Crusher/Ard'Rian MacKenzie/Kira

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Jadzia Dax is gone, Worf is gone, Kira had a boyfriend named Shak'Khar, and he's gone. Kira was Odo's gal, and he's gone. Ezri Dax can remember nights of lesbian passion with the odd girl with long auburn hair, Ard'Rian Mackenzie. Ain't life a beach? See the TNG episode "Ensigns of Command" for a view of Ard'Rian Mackenzie.

Disclaimer: Trekiverse belongs to Paramount/ViaBorgCom. I'm not playing with Trek for money. Story's mine under common-law copyright. November, 2001, 8200 words long.

Summary: Years ago Ard'Rian was rescued from Tau Cygna Five by Lt. Commander Data of the ENTERPRISE. Now she's StarFleet, working on DS9. For a while she had a pretty hot sex thing going with Jadzia Dax and Major Kira. No more. Now Ard'Rian MacKenzie is bored but hopeful. Each day brings new people to DS9.

Warning: Love and graphic sex between (fictional) adult consenting women is part of this story. If this produces an undesired spatial anomaly in your data banks, why not read elsewhere? Under aged humanoids are requested to leave, as are those who live in locales or nations where TrekSmut is a legal no-no.

Posted to the Femme_Fuhq_Fest, later to the ASCEM. May be archived, but please notify. Comments to: cousindream@aol.com

SO NEAR

by R.Schultz

Why am I looking out this porthole? I know why. I'm still hoping my ship will come in. In the meantime I'd stuck here, on DS9. Still watching fragments of my past life here laugh at me.

To me the worst thing is interacting with the both of them for hours on end, day after day, and I wasn't the one they were holding at night.

One of them is dead now .... sorta. It doesn't much effect my interactions with her. She's still alive .... sorta, and every time I check out Ezri Dax, Jadzia's bright little sex-maniac eyes gaze back at me. Ezri will never acknowledge what once was between us. We were lovers, big time.

As for me, I've come through the Dominion War mot entirely able to steer straight in the water either, mentally speaking. Being in a shooting war does that to a lot of people. Still, it irks me to know Jadzia is still alive, but swallowed up by that young prude, Ezri.

I occasionally cruise the bars --- pardon me. Bar. But it just hasn't got that wonderful flinty edge to it that it once did, back when Jadzia and Kira and I used to let it rip.

Also there were the little restaurants we would go to sometimes. You know, the places where girls and guys like me can be honest. All those places where we could be dykes and faggots, like me. And we could laugh at a Crocodile like me who gets entangled with a Bi gal. Then helplessly watches her walk away with a male. Something like that happens and everyone seems to know about it. I hate it.

I hate seeing them, both of my girls so much every day. And I hate the sympathy I get. I don't want sympathy. I want one of these resplendent females to come back to my bed. Smile, coo in my ears, and fuck my brains out.

I hated seeing Ezri and Julian such friends -- lovers -- together. In one of it's previous lives named Jadzia Dax, she was my lesbian lover. The worm probably found a lot of pillow talk to gab to Julian about. I hope the hell I wasn't much a topic of conversation between Julian and the female Trill.

Lwaxana Troi breezed in the other week. She's fun. I heard once she and Leeta were a hot number together. Imagine!

She was bringing some StarFleet Doctor to continue Doctor Julian's good work. Everyone seems to be leaving except me. And Kira.

Once Ezri was trying to teach Doctor Bashir how to be good with the Bath'leth. Which is a rather clumsy sword and battle-ax-shield if you ask me. Fighting with a sword. Testosterone games, in this day and age.

Personally I'd rather have a phaser.

I'd also rather have Jadzia back. Damn that Ezri bitch. All that choice lickable female and it's being operated by that country yokel. There she is, strolling on the Promenade, patting some male on the shoulder again. She'd get more action patting them on the ass.

I look away before she sees me looking. She knows I look. She's caught me enough times. She's a stuffy conceited righteous bitch, but she still has a major edible body.

Then there's the Major.

I can recall a naked Kira looking up into my eyes, judging by my reactions whether something she's doing with her mouth is especially good for me. I can recall her and that damned long flesh-colored dildo she liked to use on me. Push me back on the bed and climb into the saddle, just like a damned male. And I can recall how tight she'd get after I fisted her, and the way she'd bite my ear in the mornings. I liked the ways she'd cuddle. She liked to French kiss.

Then off she went, years ago. I got to watch Kira Nerys waddle around in that maternity tunic of hers. Carrying O'Brien's and Keiko's kid. And then there was that ex-resistance cell leader who's now a political wheel down on Bajor. And then that wimpy Doctor.

There is no justice.

I miss my two best dykes, even if they were really Bi. Bonding with males was what they finally did to me. Jadzia marrying Worf, and Kira Nerys getting a thing going with the metamorph, and now he's gone as well. So is every male that was in their lives. Odo has left Kira Nerys to go find his inner him, or whatever, in the starry wastes.

Hell, even O'Brien is gone, and Keiko. I liked him, I loved working with him. Hell, I even used to sneak glances at that succulent little number he had for a wife. Not that I'd ever touch her. Keiko and Miles had some good knock-out fights, but they seemed to me they were in for the long haul. I don't think I could have ever tried to come between the two of them.

DS9 isn't the free-wheeling den of sin it used to be, with him gone. Yawn. Now it's a boring den of sin.

Bajor is taking onto itself the role of entreport for all sorts of shady merchandise and shadier humanoids being trans-shipped by shadiest freighters to very shadiest destinations not listed on anyone's bill of sale.

In the old days a lot of smuggling was going on. Now it seems 99% of all merchandise here involves smuggling, and it's all legal and mundane and expected and the bureaucrats on Bajor seem to be making all the money. Boring. Expected.

Lots and lots of unknown people coming through DS9. Quark's is being run mostly by Rom, and the bar is making money hand over claw in these post-Dominion days. But it's just no fun any more. All Quark does now is mingle with the customers from the "Good Old Days." I even let him pat me on the backside occasionally. He hardly seems Ferengi any more.

By Treaty the Klingon Empire has a small eight-Klingon Military/Civil Police contingent that would obey local Bajoran Station commands. Imagine that. Klingon's that obey orders from a Bajoran Police Chief.

Makes for boring Klingon Bar fights, let me tell you. Some blotto Klingon starts something and the next second two or three Klingon's have cracked someone's head crest. It's been months since Quark's has lost any bar furniture.

Why, just look at that.....

Hello?

She might be dressed in something nice and casual. Black sweater, silver stripe, and gold wedge. Also some very baggy black-parsimmon trousers thing, very stylish with drawstring waist and narrow ankles. But I remember her none the less.

I can recall being placed on a BioBed on the ENTERPRISE, and suddenly this redhead with the marvelous cheekbones is bending over me. Letting me feel her fetching breast made my arm feel very warm.

I cornered Data that night, and achieved none of my amorous hopes. I should have tried to get to know Doctor Crusher better, I felt afterwards.

This time I'm letting my instincts take charge before my logic wakes up, and I'm up and over to the door. My hands are delighting in turning her half way, so that it was just the two of us, just outside Quark's. The noise level here was quite low at this moment in DS9's 'morning'. If only it were the noise of my ship coming in.

She looks gorgeous as a civilian. That sweater had a nice deep 'V' to it, showing a lot of fine freckled chest, and a little freckled breast. It accented her slim build, and exposed a lot of lickable throat, as well as a little long dangling earring built of half-moon slivers. She should wear a few accessories more often, I decided. Just like these three or four very thin and fragile gold bangles circling on one wrist. Elegant understatement coupled with a hint of brashness.

"Fancy meeting you here, Doctor Crusher," I smiled at her.

Lieutenant Commander Beverly Crusher. Ten years later, she might be a Commander by now, Captain mayhaps? The Doctor was looking First Class in my eyes. After the Dominion War it could be Captain. If she was an Ensign she could still make my eyes gleam.

She was a gem with a few hard edges to her. She's probably another straight, too, dammit. She probably gives herself exclusively to men. What a waste of womanhood.

Still, one always hopes. My goodness, but Beverly Crusher is a class act. If there is any justice in the universe I can be the port in any storm for this sailor. It's time for my ship to come in.

Meeeooow!

She eventually remembered me, must be quite a trick to remember ANYONE if half the stories I hear are true. The good Doctor must be in her fifties, but unlike a lot of redheads she's aged rather well. It's that StarFleet medicine, probably.

I like that sharp non-surgical facial bone structure. And I've always liked redheads.

She's caught me looking.

"Do you like what you see?", she blatantly asked. She leaned against the wall of Quark's, deliberately posing. She put out a hand and caressed my arm, then my hand.

She's the sailor and I'm the port, yes, yes, yes!

"I think you're an extremely striking woman." I managed.

"Thank you, Senior Lieutenant, an old woman likes to be complimented, especially when she's not expecting it. Look away, as much as you wish to. I enjoy it. Would you mind if I say that you too are a striking woman?"

Was this nice old broad rolling on me? No. Couldn't be. She's just complimenting me in return for my own flattery. Still....

She's rolling onto me, she's rolling onto me, she's rolling onto me, she's rolling onto me....

The fleet's in. Welcome to my harbor.

Leaning into me, she brought her lips to my ear, making it all sort of conspiratorial. Please, please, have her lick my ear....

"However, Ard'Rian -- may I call you Ard'Rian? -- what I'm doing right now is listen to my stomach growl at me in a nasty undertone. You're stationed on this place, right? Maybe you could suggest something local that would have some interesting food an old Terran sailor like me could eat without needing gastric system repairs afterward?"

Thinking fast, I urge her along, there's a local restaurant, third level, specializes in Bajor food. It's just a food place, nothing too fancy or costs too much.

She kept her hand on my arm, then put it around my other shoulder, nudging me a little closer to her. I liked that. She looks so ... interesting. Used. Skilled. Strong hands, I like the smooth way her hands glide over my arm.

At some time we could all do with a strong hand.

I never felt more plebeian and blah than I did in that tacky old service uniform. I kept remembering Doctor Beverly in that black-and-blue not-quite-standard-seeming outfit she wore on the ENTERPRISE. That, and that flowing blue coat she wore. Even that was more elegant than what I'm wearing.

Even with me stretched out on a BioBed, she was so much ... in

control. I liked to play Doctor when I was a kid. Guess what part I liked to play? Both.

She's just a hair bow-legged. That's fine with me. I've heard the old joke about how easy it is to spread the legs of bow-legged women.

I start touching back. It doesn't faze her.

Oh, I love to go swimmin' with bow-legged women....

I touch her waist, I circle her waist, The Doctor is circling my waist. I've got goosebumps. The old broad is rolling on me. And boy, do I like it.

Her fingertips are magic. I really like how soft and feminine her scent is. What is it?

My hand tingles when her fingertips interlace with mine. Happy Goddess, we're holding hands in front of everyone on the station, and she isn't letting go. If Kira walked by right now I'd give the Almighty Station Commander the big bird finger. Which reminds me, I'd better declare .... ask if I could have a day off or two.

Even if I don't get .... entangled .... with the good Doctor, I'll love to hear Kira scream about how I'll mess up her almighty schedules. May Kah'Less use her schedules for personal hygiene.

Right out of the blue, lowly Senior Lieutenant MacKenzie needs some personal time. So she can practice her interface.

Because if Doctor -- Beverly -- isn't rolling on me, I don't know what she is doing. Oh, ship of mine, please come in....

Suddenly I stop abruptly, right where I am, and Beverly looks at me with a question.

"I'm going to take you to someplace with a unique something you've probably never even heard of before," I explained. "You're going to like this.

"They have something they call a "Gamble", and on DS9 you get it only at a small fourth level restaurant and raktajino joint called "Another Road.""

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Doctor Beverly stops at the door and touches one of the lavender squares. She knows damned well what they are.

This is a place where you can find humanoids whose lovers are NOT of the opposite sex.

The door wheezes as it opens for us, spilling us into a lemon-and-white little place. A few rows of little tables, and two lines of booths against two walls. I tug her along, she's busy enjoying the artwork on the walls.

A large rack of book and music filche's are opposite the register, with Avant Garde prints and calendars giving more than a little gaudiness to the place.

The most eye-catching thing in "Another Road", however, was the two-meter tall plus Xenon A feline who was working there. Orange fur with black and white stripes, she was a double for the biggest predator cats ever to grow on Terra. Fangs and all. Her planet, was, recently, admitted to the Federation and consequent StarHegemony. Before then it had been a system of bickering and ever-warring clans.

Recently many thousands had fought and died in the Dominion War. Living proof Terra needed her allies in the Federation, giving lie to the Racial Purists.

I took Beverly over to the stasis box and presented her with the eye-and-sweet-tooth marvel called the "Gamble". It was a square cake, gleaming under a multi-colored layer of cream frosting. Just to look at it makes one gain weight. A large blob of green here, purple there, flaky with dark reddish slivers of over-ripe Neda Stalk, nibble's of Chocolate, or Rachel's Hair sprinkle's.

"The best is inside," I whispered in awe. "There are 32 different squares of cake inside, some of them ice-cream cake. The cream icings they lie in are also differing flavor's, many of them complimentary, or sensations all by themselves.

"Obviously a marvel of stasis box creation. Each segment is brought together at the finish point of baking creation, and put together in one stasis marvel.

"Few people finish more than a square or two, they are lost in savoring the flavors." I smile in pride, for I have tasted it before, and I know the baker of this prodigious marvel, a creator of this paradigm of sugary excess.

Beverly looked at it a few minutes. Then she whispered loud enough for me to understand; "I presume no one has to buy the whole cake?"

She winched at the price for one side, to be split between the two of us. Four squares apiece. Woota, the Tiger, ensured us she had small stasis bags for take-out of the reminder.

We sat behind the table of one of the wall units. Beverly was hesitant about eating once she was staring it in the eye. I forked a bit of indigo icing into my mouth, savoring and identifying the bottom corner.

"Grape and...," I began. "...Killem. The cake is... Grape and Wyess. Oh, it is so fresh and moist, look at the way it oozes and crumbles on my fork. Here....have a taste."

Beverly looked at my offering for half a minute, then allowed me to insert the sample into her mouth. Her eyes flickered as her taste buds were assaulted by the direct heady distinct tastes.

With eyes closed she tasted. Then she brought her fork to a corner, working at the ice cream cake beginning to melt at room temperature.

"Lemon and Rachel's hair ice cream, the cake is whipped lemon swirl ice cream ... oh, oh, oh. Here, Ard'Rian, you have to taste this," Beverly said. With that I leaned forward for the bite she thrust into my mouth.

I loved lemon, I'd never had any until I was in Ten Forward, on the ENTERPRISE. It was amazing how many happy memories were associated with my stay on that ship. It liberated me from a small colony of unremitting toil and sacrifice into a wider universe of rewarding possibilities.

I'd seduced Data, and found that something I didn't want. Yet I'd discovered so much more. I'd never have discovered my love for women on my home planet, and that alone made the up-wrenching of my people worthwhile.

Now I eased banana-nut bread with pineapple cream into Beverly's aching mouth. Our mouths were close.

"Pineapple frappe cream?" she whispered a question.

I smelled the flavors as she savored them. Beverly put a corner of icing in my open mouth. Lime-something, so wonderfully tart and creamy soft. Beverly had something on her chin, and I licked it off. Beverly moaned when I continued to lick down her neck.

She put her hand to the back of my head and directed my tongue back up her throat and chin to her mouth. It was my turn to moan when she began licking my lips with that expressive tongue of hers.

"Toot, toot, toot...."

"WHAT the hell are you doing?" the Doctor mumbled in my ear.

"My ship has just come in," I replied.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

We're entangled in Beverly's cabin bed. She's awake. She's going to smile. I can tell because her smile starts with her eyes. There's a crinkle to begin with, and it spreads all over her face until her lips curl up in a smile.

I'd wanted that smile very badly. I'd wanted Beverly to wake up and be happy to be naked in bed with plain old lean and lanky me.

No liquor was involved last night, unless you counted that chocolate-cherry-brandy cake. I wanted her first thought to be that she pleased to be in my -- her -- bed. Please, no asking herself "Oh Gawh, what did I do last night?" That smile said better than words that she was happy to be rubbing skin with me.

"Hi there, Ardy," Beverly whispered, "Did anyone ever tell you you're beautiful naked?"

Being reassured, I started caressing the exquisite soft flowing breasts she had. They felt so womanly and lovely. Liquid, malleable, quivering, vulnerable. I could get to have a serious thing about those breasts. When I worked the nipples a little, they hardened and grew in my hands, and the good Doctor shivered most delightfully.

"Wait right there," she said and elevated her trim body out towards the central cabin. Buddha, she had a nice ass. I had a premonition as to what she was going to do, prompting me to arch and shiver, myself.

In a moment she was back with a plate of cake and a gleam in her eyes. As soon as she lay down my legs were back and spread, anticipating where her dining table was to be. I masturbated carefully, enjoying my degree of wetness, awaiting her next move.

She took a finger of icing and laid it on my clit. The shock of cold made me squeal and gasp. She stirred more icing onto my crotch before she presented me with a finger of it to taste.

Such sweet perfection .... Vanilla ice cream with Rachel's Hair. I had to groan as I licked it off Beverly's index finger, mesmerized by the growing cascade of cinnamon and cold maple syrup that was the Bollian fruit rind.

"More," I had to cry, and she gave me more. She broke off a portion of cake for me. Evassberry and apple-cinnamon, and I groaned again.

I watched Beverly wipe the cake of it's icing. Working my groin and pubic hairs with the melting confection, crumbling cake into my whole groin. I shivered again, partly from the cold coating my clit and now-pulsing crotch.

Beverly lowered her classic face into the heart of me and I broke into flight as she proceeded to clean me with her most attentative and greedy lips.

Occasionally she would pause, making me cry for her to continue. She would feed me fingers of cake and cream, then go back to licking and eating and sucking my hairy groin with her tongue and lips and teeth and licking.

Oh. Oh oh oh. Oh oh ooohhh

It was coming on so fast! My groin was ... hot. My belly was full of tingle fireworks fire growing waves of sliding sparkles

Oh. Oh! Oh! Oh! I was ... She kept pulling my groin away and chewing on it... I ... YESYESOHYESSS...

I had to close my legs from her ravenous mouth it was too good it was too fast oh my ...

In time, after rolling about in the bed, I could think clearly again, my groin and belly felt empty...

I could see again and Beverly crawled up my body, lightly kissing all the way. Her eyes were smiling again.

I felt messy, and it was only fair that my Doctor feel the same way. Beverly sprawled on the bed while I worked myself out of the room. I took her dish of Evassberry-cinnamon with me. She probably expected me to scrape the square back into one of the stasis bags. She didn't know what a pig I was, yet. My biosystem could ingest prodigious amounts of frightening types of food and I could stay lean and sinewy.

Instead of saving it, I ate the remnants of that tongue-treasure.

Then I got a square out of my bag and hummed with joy as I tasted Grape and Wyess. So very, very moist. Grape and some other berry and juicy whipped Killiem for the icing. Just the thing for a plump-lipped shining red-haired pussy. The mere thought of that delicious cunt opening for me made me have hot and cold flashes in my belly. I had to tell her.

Back in the room I told Beverly to open her clean unmarred dancer's legs. She'd told me she danced, and she was going to give me a little show in one of the holosuites Quark rented. I was hoping she'd dance for me naked.

I also didn't seem to be able to get enough of that incandescent triangle she sported so wonderfully.

I'd thought it'd be her so soft breasts I'd worship, once I got her clothes off. Which I did. Instead it was that shocking red crown of hair her crotch wore that kept making my head swim. It was a shame she couldn't walk around nude ALL the time.

Okay, so I knew the perfection of her pussy hair had had some help from a dye gel, it was still incredible to look at.

Now I knelt between her lickable legs, bringing my square of cake to it's new warm dinner plate. I lay for some minutes admiring the spectacle. Finally my Doctor wondered what I was doing.

"I'm enjoying myself just looking at your pussy and your pussy-hair. It's so perfect, Beverly, it's a paradigm of woman the way it minutely pulses with life. To look at it makes me want to eat your tender cunt.

"That incredible hair, the thick fat pouty way your lips get when you're anticipating sex. The hidden entrance, the flavors you are when I lick into that pink cunt mouth.

"I think it's one of the most beautiful edible pussies I've ever known. You're beautiful here, Beverly, your cunt is such a beautiful thing. Spreading a little of this cake and icing on it is just gilding the lily. Buddha, I think I'll never grow bored of eating your pussy," I explained.

That was easy to say. I'm embarrassed by myself, but it was true. I objectify too much, and Beverly Howard Crusher did have a luxurious mat of pubic hair crowning a sharply distinct and lovely groin. What's to explain? As a lesbian, I loved it.

As she had done, so did I. I used my fingers to ladle the icing onto her clit, her enlarging and puffy lips, the enchanting growth of pubic hair. I gave Beverly my fingers to clean with her mouth, again enjoying the way her smile began with crinkles of her eyes. Buddha, but she could be such an intriguing woman. I hoped she was my ship just come in.

Then I brought my lips to her clit, her icing, her crumbles of cake. I pulled on her puffy lips, let my tongue scoop out the goodness in her pussymouth. It kept flowing down her groin, always giving me more to lick, there, at the slick entrance of her femininity. Hooh boy, krick in the neck or no, this was something I REALLY enjoyed doing....

Her Mons was a thick mixture of hair, icing and cake crumbs, giving Beverly a eye-catching layer of succulent mouth beauty. It was a task to clean it without hurting Beverly. I also kept having to slide my mouth down her lips and crack to the constant flow from her vaginal entrance.

Beverly came a few more times for me, but she kept her legs open to me. Her hips would lift and twist and convulse, but always she accepted all the loving I could give her.

Eventually I took one of her comes as a signal to leave off my loving. Beverly seemed nearly clean, and my neck was going to kill me. I snaked my way up my StarFleet Officer's body, rubbing my freckles on hers, so to speak.

The way she licked and kissed my throat and breasts and my face was more than acceptable. Beverly liking to use her tongue on EVERYTHING was a very nice aspect of her. I could stand to be subjected to that a lot.

"Let's get a shower together, shall we?" Beverly asked. "I've a few attachments that can make a douche a REALLY fun thing to share."

Good. The crinkle stayed in her eyes. She was willing to use a little plastic in her sex. Didn't throw her to think of adding something inorganic to our pleasure. Some gals weren't all that eager.

A wet and slippery me in the same (large) shower ensuite with a wet and slippery Beverly sounded like a super thing to do next. I like wet, slippery, and amorous females in a shower.

So far there didn't seem to be any drawbacks to this older woman.

Any time this Commander came to DS9 (or wherever I was stationed), she just might be my ship that came in to port. Wonder if she could get me onto the ENTERPRISE? Wonder if she could mention to her Captain that I had Stats and Time-In-Grade for Lt. Commander?

Not to mention a few medals from that fucking war just past. Anything to get away from DS9.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Major Kira was not happy seeing me in a three-shades-of-sienna dress with a lot of a lanky redhead's legs showing, namely mine. Not that I did anything undignified or untoward, but she had to have had a notion of why I was in her command center at the same time as Commander Beverly Crusher was.

Beverly was here to attack the problem of health care, or lack of it, down on Bajor. Problem is so simply stated that even an Engineer on DS9 knows it.

The Cardassian's killed most of the Doctor's down on Bajor. End of story .... almost.

Came the Dominion War and Bajor's Second Occupation/"Accommodation". It was decided by the Bajor Government, while they had the opportunity, to round up all those so-called dangerous domestic elements and put them in camps.

Doctors are conservatives by inclination, but they also go around questioning government policies. Just like opposing politicians, some journalists, homosexuals, satirists and recent immigrants. All the usual people who wind up in any Government "Collecting Center."

The result being a lot fewer doctor's than there used to be. Not to mention immigrants, satirists, opposing politicians, homosexuals and journalists.

Which is one reason why I don't like it here. People I knew died down on Bajor. For nothing. And now the murderers seem to be up here, in charge, and making credits hand over fist. Do I sound bitter?

So I kept my mouth shut, but I wanted to stand alongside my latest girlfriend and tell her to Kira's face that what was needed was to bring a whole lot of Bajoran Doctor's back to life and send them out amongst the populace. Simple, Na?

Lieutenant Bailey gave me a lot of dirty looks while I was tourist-izing the command center, but I waved at him and ignored him. Grow hair on his chest if he ran Engineering for a few days. Be good for him. Be better for me, knowing everything was HIS problem for once.

It was wonderful. I wasted time while my Beverly went down to Bajor. I walked around window-shopping. Put a few Marguerite's under my belt at Quark's, and talked reminisces with Morn and Quark. Bought a nice set of boots, ate a square of "Gamble" at "Another Road." Undressed in Beverly's Cabin and had a scented bath. Bought a few things on the Replicator. Sprawled naked in Beverly's larger bed. Masturbated myself four or five times with some of the toys I brought from my cabin. Went into a lazy nap while waiting for Beverly to get back. Where we could make a little more insane fornication.

Ah, the life of the idle (but not rich). I've got to learn not to be such a workaholic. Knowing my little vacation irritates my pregnant Bajoran pumpkin, Major Kira, should provide me some incentive. Not that she's pregnant. This time. It's just a visual by-product of her being stuffed into that hideous Bajoran uniform.

And, oh, doesn't my new transparent outfit feel seductive. Beverly should be coming back any time now. If Kira doesn't keep her on Bajor all day and all night. If Kira DOES do that, I'll take another day off. I've got the accumulated vacation time.

Major Kira has Bailey. He's a big boy now. He can learn to keep DS9 functional all by himself.

Ooooooh, do I feel sinful!

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Beverly was back -- finally -- about twenty hundred Zulu, and looked exhausted. I'd gotten out of my surprise's, and had a quite sedate green pastel knit on, down to my knees. A skinny brown belt tied it off. If we had to whip it off for a little indecent foreplay, it'd take about twenty-two seconds to do so.

She was amazed to find me pushing her in front of a table and feeding her a veggie-tarq stew. Little did she know it was one of the few things I could cook with ingredients from the replicator.

Afterwards I helped her through a shower and into a bed. I kept the both of us nude, but she went right to sleep on me. Poor baby, Ardy will take care of you......

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The lights were about five percent, and I could hear the dumper being used. Then I could enjoy the soft flow of warm red-head snuggling to me. Not to mention Beverly was wearing "Pathway". This was a nice subtle code, I understood. This nice slightly sweet Risan cologne was a code meaning if you want to sleep, we'll sleep. If you want to fuck, I'm ready for that too.

She rubbed her female body all over mine, kissing, tickling, humming, touching. Her intentions were obviously amorous.

"Your turn to use the ensuite," Beverly said.

"I just went before you did," I replied. "Am I stinky?"

"No .... it's just that I want to see what you got for me to enjoy today." Beverly was obviously one perceptive woman.

"You DID get something fancy and warm and unusual and sensual. Didn't you? I want to see it and feel it and nuzzle it and then peel it off you," Beverly said. "Then we're going to fuck each other's depraved minds out."

What girl could scorn such a genteel invitation like that?

The lights were up to forty percent when I emerged. My wrap was gold trim and transparent green sheer, and gold and cranberry dots lent it body, to an eye. It hid my body like a Klingon hides his temper.

Bev was on one elbow, and she was focusing on one thing only.

"WHAT the HELL is that thing you're wearing?" Beverly giggled. She was pointing to my new toy. My gaudy -- hairy? -- bright orange Risan self-seating dildo. Erect, of course.

I think this was one of my better strip dances. It was called my "Salome". I used to be a professional strip dancer (for males, and occasionally females) back in San Francisco, during my Academy days. I didn't have a credit then, beyond my Cadet pension, and a person needs SOME credits of their own. StarFleet may think we've gotten over so much reliance on money, but I got news for them.

Naturally my dance, like Salome's, ended with me posed and still, hopefully gracefully, and naked as hell. Excepting my erect orange dildo. Also, I wasn't calling for anyone's head to be brought to me on a silver platter.

My red-headed Doctor rolled me over to her after I crawled back into her bed. Beverly inspected my -- our -- dildo carefully, jacking it for the feel. It proudly stood there, towering over my pubes, waiting to fulfill it's glorious destiny. The base spread out in hundreds of compoloidal plastic threads, firmly seating itself on my body. I loved the way it looked so bizarre and masculine there.

"What does it do, besides look scary? Does it only have that coat of stubby hair and that's it? If it's Risan, it's got to have a gimmick." I got the control from under my pillow and happily turned it on.

"It's called a "Barber Pole", and as you can see, it presents an almost-illusion," I said.

"It LOOKS like circles are rising out of the base and disappearing in the business end. But it is just an appearance generated by the fact the short nubs are programmed to grow longer in sequence. Doesn't it look ravishing?"

"I don't know if I'd call it ravishing .... You aren't thinking of testing this new sex vehicle on me, were you?," Bev asked.

This was the part where I felt smart. I'd figured out Beverly was a control person. So I let her persuade me to allow her to wear it first. Either way I would win. I do her or she did me.

Soon she was wearing it and demanding I mouth it to lubricate it. Yeah, right, she had to put a disrupter to my head. Guess I've used toys so much, now I like the taste. All those nubby little projections felt different, though. I guess I have a real thing for plastic sex toys. It was a little long, and the hundreds of small hairs were really weird in my face, but I was already wet, anticipating getting this orange marvel where it'd do the most good. Beverly didn't disappoint me.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Beverly crawled up me, letting me feel that attached thing on her leave a spit trail down my belly until it was teasing my pubic hairs. Beverly stared into my eyes, and I enjoyed the crinkling effect her eyes did for me. Smiling, baring her teeth before she nipped at my ears and chin and lips, licking my face, teasing me.

I had to jump and groan as she stirred my groin like it was a bowl of soup and the dildo was the spoon. It slipped inside me a dozen times, forcing me to mumble and snap my head back.

Beverly gripped my throat with her teeth and began to shove the orange beast inside me.

"Mmmmmmaarrrgghhhhh," I cried as Bev slowly and deliberately filled me with that false dick. Centimeter by centimeter, and I felt each millimeter as it forced itself inside my tight opening. I was wet, it went in without any more lubricant, but GAWWDDD I was tight. My pussy lips must have weighed a kilo each, and half my pubic hairs must have gone inside me along with that faux Risan compolodial plastic dick.

It didn't actually hurt -- but when the base of layered plastic threads hit my clit, my head REALLY snapped back and I know I went blind momentarily.

We lay there together, me, my dildo, and my lover. When I could see again, Beverly was above me, kissing me, licking me, full of whispering noises, and smiling. Her eyes were SSOOOO bright, so happy, so full of love.

I could feel the entire hairy length of that orange dildo inside me. My cuntmouth was especially sensitive. It was as if it was a trigger waiting for sensation to overwhelm it. My legs were quivering about her ass, my arms were shaking as they clasped her shoulders. My thighs kept spasming against her sides.

Beverly closed her eyes and forced her tongue inside my mouth, giving me her tongue-tip to swallow. Her fingers wallowed in my long auburn hair. She moaned in my mouth.

Then she started pulling the dildo out of me, and turned on the mechanism at the same thing. It started rotating and expanding it's hairs at the same time centimeters of it slid out past my tense vaginal muscles.

I screamed.

I came.

I passed out, l'amorte minor, fake finito, blackout.

It lasted for less than a minute. I awoke panting, drawing blood, mouth wide open, throat hurting. My thighs aching from the strain.

I'd just had the big one.

Beverly looked in my face totally amazed. She was frozen in place, awed, afraid, tremendously satisfied that what she had done had had such an impact on me.

The dildo was still pumping out it's "Barber Pole" effect. It was still partially in me, twirling and twirling. I gritted my teeth in a feral growl, fucking myself on that orange beast, forcing part of it back in me.

"Beverly, darling, divine redhead, sweetheart, love, don't stop," I threatened. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me fast, fuck me, fuck me, you damned bitch, fuck me, fuck me, fill me, put that goddamned thing back in me and fuck me hard, please, please, oh, please, fuck meeee......."

Beverly sunk it back in me, then all the way out and back in and back out and all the time that thing was twirling around in me. Twirling and in and twirling out and twirling in and twirling out and twirling in and....

I don't know how many times I came on that orange marvel. So long as Risa builds dildo's, the Federation shall survive. I think. Or something like that.

We were exhausted, and Beverly had to get up early. So I masturbated her until she had a soft comfortable come, and went back to sleep.

When she got up I put it on and nailed her with the orange "Barber Pole" for a little combination revenge and wake-up call.

She squealed, thrashed, giggled, threw both of us out of the bed, and bit my shoulders hard enough to leave blood trickling out of the wounds. But when she went out of that cabin door, she was 100% awake.

She also had a few bite marks on one cheek of her ass. I'm bad, oh bad, bad, bad to the bone.

Feeling good, I even reported myself as "cured" and ready for duty. Besides, Kira would be back down on Bajor, with my baby. The good news is she's bringing my baby back to me. The REALLY good news is I'm going to enjoy some more time off when my redhead reappears.

The Major AND Bailey are both most definitely NOT going to genuinely love life without Miles' Old Hand, me, to save their asses on a daily basis. Let THEM figure out how to keep this rotting Cardassian antique Space Station working.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The weekend we had together. It was like we were glued together. I got her a lovely double-sleeve silk blouse. Inner blouse a light pastel lemon, the outer blouse a bright eye-catching shiny gold. Beverly looked terrific in it.

Doctor Beverly got me a new vibrating-pumping "Snake". I brought some of my treasure cache over, and we spent the night masturbating ourselves or each other. We each had one of the "Squirming Rabbit" vibers. That was fun.

Next night Beverly rented one of Quark's HoloSuites and she danced for me. She was great! And yes, she danced nude for me.

In return I danced nude for her. The finale was me settling gracefully on Beverly and the twirling orange "Barber Pole". My legs could only support me for one come that way. Beverly said my screams must have penetrated the Hologram Walls.

When we left the HoloSuite Quark couldn't keep his eyes off the two of us. Beverly blushed, and I held Bev tighter to me. Lech, you dirty old Ferengi, lech. Eat your six-chambered heart out, Quark, the redhead is mine tonight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tuesday Doctor Crusher handcuffed my hands to the bedposts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thursday Beverly had me blindfolded and in doggie fashion. Both holes filled with vibrating toys, with her working my breasts and nipples. Doctor Bev is an inventive girl.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The weekend was full of soft, quiet, friendly kissing and related action. It's so relaxing to look down your belly and always seem to know when her happy smile is hidden by your happy groin. It's always good to get back to your basics.

Bev is wonderfully cooperative. She'll sit at the edge of the bed so I don't get a crick in my neck. And we spend much of our time in bed lying alongside, face to groin. Masturbating each other, or using toys, or lifting a leg and gently licking each other. We can delay our orgasm's until we've spent over an hour enjoying the flavor of the other's sex.

Beverly's comes taste so rich.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Monday Beverly begged off our meeting again. She was too tired what with all the work down on Bajor. As well as the fact I was melting her down to a nub, she giggled. That was okay, I was getting a little tired too. No problem. None at all.

I liked sleeping skin to skin with her. It satisfied something deep inside me that I needed. She'll have to leave, eventually, and I wanted something to remember besides the sex.

Eating out, Staying in her cabin and watching some of her HoloDrama's. Listening to her music, dancing with her, taking showers together, helping each other dress in the mornings. Touching. Smelling, caressing, finding out what each other liked or disliked.

Wednesday, Thursday and Friday she stayed down on Bajor.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

We had the weekend. Then Monday she was down on Bajor once more. Thursday and Friday she begged off again. Then Monday through Wednesday she worked, down on Bajor's planet surface. Again. Poor baby, they're driving her to exhaustion.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Sunday and Monday.

Tuesday, while at work, I heard Doctor Beverly was back up early on our DS9 station. I finished up the job I was on, patted Bailey on his shoulder, ignored his look of distaste, and logged off early. My baby is probably getting deliciously underdressed even as I walked away from command center.

Time to have my Beverly catch up on some proper living. After that give her some nice loving.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

My doll's cabin door opened for me as soon as I whispered the code. I didn't have to miss a step. Unless she had other plans, we were going to go out and get a hot dinner. Beverly seems to like a soup and meat main meal. There's that Bajoran place which has Terran-style shish-kabob, and they seem to have great salad's.

After that I'm going to get her showered and put in bed early. Poor baby, she seems to be always exhausted from this study. It probably isn't made any easier by her having to interface so much with that pushy Major Kira.

Busy thinking thoughts like that, I at first didn't hear the sounds. Sounds which quickly translated in my mind to sex sounds. Sounds which translated into some female being given sex and love, and one energetically giving it to someone.

In Doctor Crusher's cabin.

A few steps more and I had to lean against the doorway to Beverly's bedroom. So I didn't fall down from seeing MY Doll fucking the Holy Hell out of some other girl. That other girl was none other than my Almighty Station Commandant Major Kira Nerys.

That FUCKING bitch! Both of them.

What made it worse was that they were enjoying themselves so much, that both were unaware of my observation of their fornication. What made it even more worse was that on the upstroke I could plainly see My Beverly was fucking her with MY orange Risan "Barber Pole" twirling orange dildo.

MY orange Risan self-seating dildo.

About that time Beverly noticed me, Kira suddenly looked into my eyes, and I turned to stone.

Beverly settled into a crouching position on top of what a lot of Bajor's leaders considered their finest straight female Station Commandant. I could still see MY dildo illusion-rotating it's field of nubby hairs.

"Ardy -- " Beverly began.

"FUCK YOU!", I replied.

" -- We thought you liked threesomes, you and Jadzia --" she said.

"I ACCEPTED threesomes," I low-screamed, "It was all that I could get out of the situation that existed then! But I don't LIKE threesome's. Not then, not now."

"-- maybe we can --", Beverly began then.

"You never asked," I screamed. Then the fire was all gone. I'd lost again. Someone else won. Story of my life. Losing.

I went to the wardrobe, and pulled out the lemon-gold silk blouse I'd given Bev.

"I'm taking this here back," I growled. "Keep the rest."

There were other words, but I didn't listen. I certainly didn't add any. It was over.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

....And that's the whole of it. I've gotten a lovely blouse which I'll probably throw away. And an empty cabin to look forward to.

I'm still waiting for my ship to come on in. Might as well keep the blouse. I can't really afford to throw it away. Might need it if my ship ever comes in.

:commotion:commotion.....

I'm at the entrance to Quark's. "What's happening?" I ask the Ferengi.

"Haven't you heard?" he asked. "The VOYAGER, that ship that was lost in the Delta Quadrant? She's just come through the worm hole! She's headed here! It's going to dock here! She's back!

VOYAGER has come in!" Quark is happy about ANY excitement that occurs here.

I looked down at the pretty lemon blouse in my hands, then towards the crowd clustered about one of the viewing portholes. Their ship was coming in.

"It'll be an hour at least," I thought, as I snagged a bottle of Dawn wine from behind Quark's bar. "Maybe my ship is also coming in."

END

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