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By Maulmistress Rating: Adults only! Disclaimer: Not mine - although I wish! Codes: J/C, C/7 Author's note: I found the above pic on my pc and have no idea where I originally got it from, apologies if it belongs to anyone! Please email me if its yours and you object to it being used here maulmistress@yahoo.com Every time I come here I swear it will be the last; the last time I sneak into this dirty cheap motel, the last time I hide my face from the fat, sweaty desk clerk, the last time I lie beneath my lover, clutching and grasping at his body as it drives desperately into mine ... The last time I hear the sweet loving promises of a man cheating on his wife. I feel guilty; I always have, but not enough to stop seeing him. Oh, I’ve made a few pathetic attempts in the past to call it a day, refused to take his calls, ignored the heartfelt messages scrawled in traditional ink and deposited in a bunch of Peace Roses. But in the end I always give in, agree to that one meeting, telling myself that this time I will resist, yet knowing for certain that it will lead to an afternoon of forbidden sex and sore muscles. The Borg say ‘Resistance is Futile’, it’s their standard greeting and one that I should know, because in the Delta Quadrant I tampered and interfered with the Borg more times than any sane Starfleet Captain should … and it’s a habit I am obviously loathe to break. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix 001, married nineteen months ago in a glitzy, high-profile, ceremony, attended by one hundred and fifty one former crew members, two thirds of the Admiralty, four prominent ambassadors and officiated by myself, her former Captain, (now Admiral). What the blushing bride failed to realise was that less than twelve hours before the wedding, I was holed up in the groom’s hotel room having the best sex of my life. I always thought sex with Chakotay would be a highly spiritual and reverent experience. I thought he would be the kind of lover who would take his time, seductively nibbling and kissing the whole length of my body, learning all the secret places that bring me pleasure … oh, how wrong can you be? Chakotay had decided to forego Mr Paris’ offer of a traditional ‘stag’ night, choosing instead to spend the evening enjoying a quiet meal with his closest friend – me. The dinner had been disappointing, with neither of us really eating anything. I had picked at my cooling lasagne, swilling each mouthful down with a large gulp of white wine. For some reason, despite the many marriages I have conducted, this one was making me feeling apprehensive and on edge. The groom hadn’t faired much better, pushing his tomato pasta around the plate and stealing admiring glances down the ‘v’ of my dress. A few years back, the obvious attention would have made me feel uncomfortable, but that night what I was feeling was something entirely different. It was definitely the wine, and perhaps to some extent the knowledge that this was my last chance, that made me lean over slightly more, casually pressing the weight of my breasts against my arm resting on the table. A cheap thrill, I thought, proof I still had ‘it’. Despite my lack of recent experience, I can still recognise the look in a man’s eyes when he desires you and I knew I was accepting more than a late whisky when he invited me back to his room for a nightcap. In fact, we had barely made it inside before he pounced on me, plundering my mouth as he tugged and pulled at my black dress, giving a grunt of satisfaction as it fell to the floor. “I want you,” he groaned, yanking at my bra and roughly fondling my modest breasts. “I want to fuck you …” So much for reverent love-making! I tried to say no, but the word died on my lips as he lifted me higher and impaled me on his solid erection. This will sound like one of B’Elanna’s bad Klingon romances, but quite honestly I had never had such a well-endowed lover in my life! His hard shaft stimulated areas I never even realised I had! It only took a few minutes of his wild, fierce fucking to make me come so hard even my teeth hurt. I was so caught up in my own pleasure I didn’t notice Chakotay had achieved his own climax until I felt the flood of our combined fluids spilling out of me. As my legs released their grip on his waist, I panicked, said something like, “Oh, shit, what the hell have we done?” He never answered; instead he dragged me towards the queen-sized bed and ravished me anew, attacking my sopping sex like a man possessed. In the past I’d always hated this particular act, the feel of a man’s mouth on me. I had always found the experience messy and unhygienic and ultimately unsatisfying. Oh boy, did he change all that! What that man can’t do with his tongue, lips and teeth isn’t worth knowing! He had me screaming like a banshee, arching and bucking under his talented mouth as he pushed me from one orgasm into another, before mounting me and taking me hard and fast. It was pure, primal, animalistic sex and it was divine. I’m a little late for our rendezvous this afternoon, thanks to a last minute unavoidable conversation with Admiral Hayes. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting when I enter the room. As usual, the musky drapes are closed. We always close them, for both privacy and security. Neither of us trust the desk clerk, afraid he could tip off a reporter and reveal the sordid, stolen hours Chakotay and I spend fucking each other’s brains out. “Hi.” His voice greets me, deep and sensual, and I turn to view him sprawled naked on the bed. My God, he’s gorgeous, bronzed and smooth, every muscle subtly highlighted and begging to be kissed and tasted. “Sorry, I got delayed,” I explain, hastily removing my outer coat and tugging at the fastenings of my uniform. “I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he drawls, watching me undress as he languidly strokes his magnificent cock. “Oh, I’m sure I can,” I answer, deliberately lowering my voice because I know the husky quality drives him crazy. He groans and I notice his cock bobbing eagerly in my direction. “Has he missed me?” I tease, making a show of unclasping and removing my bra. “You have no idea,” he replies. I am wearing the command-red panties that match the roll neck of my uniform. He gets so turned on by the thought of me wearing trashy underwear beneath Starfleet’s finest. The silky fabric caresses my thighs as I seductively wriggle out of them. “I think I do.” “Aroused?” he asks, eyeing the telltale moisture staining the satin. I saunter towards him, every step exaggerated, causing my breasts to jiggle enticingly, nipples hard and pointy. I tease them with my fingers and revel in his heated stare. “Thinking of you always arouses me,” I whisper, abandoning my nipples with a sharp tug and climbing up onto the bed to straddle my lover. His large hands glide along my thighs, brushing my neatly trimmed curls before settling on my hips, an unspoken request for me to sink onto his throbbing shaft. “No preliminaries?” I tease, knowing full well none were required. “No,” he gruffly answers. “It’s been too damn long …” “You won’t hear any arguments from me,” I breathe, grasping his cock and impaling myself on it with a low moan. “Oh, God, that feels good …” “Spirits, I’ve missed you …” Tipping my head back, I allow my eyes to roll shut as I surrender to the feel of him inside me. He sets the pace, using his hands to guide my hips in a sweet rocking motion. “Ride me, Kathryn,” he groans. I arch my spine and grind myself down on him, tormenting my sensitive clit with the added friction. “I can feel you … so deep …” “I’ve been thinking about this … about you,” he rasps, suddenly palming my right breast and squeezing it. “These past six weeks have been hell … you’re all I can think about … driving me crazy … wanting you …” His fingers latch onto my nipple and tweak it roughly and I whimper in pained pleasure, thrusting my tit further into his punishing grasp. “I’ve thought about you too,” I breathlessly admit. “I’ve been so hungry for your touch … longing for you … needing you to fuck me so badly …” The slow rhythm is abandoned and he grabs my hips, holding me tight to him as he slams upwards, forcing his cock to penetrate me harder and deeper. I moan my approval and increase my pace, plunging repeatedly onto his shaft, smashing our pelvis’ together. “Faster,” I beg, catching my jiggling breasts and furiously twisting both nipples until they glow white. He is grunting, teeth bared, as he pounds into me. I know he is close. “Wait for me,” I plea. “Won’t last much longer,” he warns. Releasing a painfully swollen nipple, I slide my fingers down, tracing an invisible path over my sweat-soaked belly. They burrow lower, seeking out and finding the hard knot above our joining. I circle it, masturbating shamelessly. “Ooh … ooh yes …” The tired bed springs squeak, a perfect harmony to our harsh panting and the frenzied sound of skin slapping against skin. “Oh, God, don’t stop … don’t stop,” I gasp, writhing violently. His fingers are digging into the meagre flesh of my hips and I know I will be left with bruises, but I don’t care, I just want this man so much … “I’m nearly there,” I whisper, feeling my climax approach. “Kathryn … Kathryn …” He is chanting my name and hissing how ‘fucking incredible’ I am, as his pace becomes jerky and more urgent. He makes me feel incredible, beautiful even, and I clench my muscles around his turgid invader, bringing us both closer. “Ah, Kathryn … fuck …” His handsome features are twisted in agony and I know he is trying to hold off a little longer. “Let go, darling,” I moan, rubbing myself harder. “I want you to …” my breathing hitches, “come inside me …” He growls and spears me harder and faster and the sweet anticipation I have been feeling suddenly gives way to an over-whelming, explosion of intensity that spreads out from between my legs and ravages my body. Every muscle is tense and I’m arching backwards, choking out a garbled version of his name, coming again as I feel him ejaculate deep within me. “God, I needed that,” I chuckle, slumping bonelessly onto his chest. “Glad I could be of service, Admiral,” he retorts, trying to catch his breath. I lean closer and kiss him softly on the mouth, taking my time to coax his tongue into playing with mine. “How long have we got?” I ask, lips brushing his. He doesn’t answer. “Chakotay?” He avoids my gaze, concentrating instead on tracing a pattern between the freckles on my collarbone. “We need to talk …” My stomach flips and I attempt to move off him but he clutches at me, not letting our bodies separate, continuing to soften inside me. “Kathryn …” His eyes finally meet mine. “Seven’s pregnant.” “What?” He takes a steadying breath before repeating the words. “Seven’s pregnant … with my child.” All these months, all the lies he’s told me, and she’s pregnant? Their sham of a ‘love-less marriage’ has produced a child? I shake my head and try to gather my thoughts. Celibate marriage … he swore to me they never made love … because he says making love is what we do, they only manage to ‘engage in sexual relations’ … cold, no emotion … they don’t do it … She’s pregnant? “You bastard!” I hiss, scrambling away from him and covering my nudity with a sheet. “You knew this and yet you just … we … you fucked me anyway? How could you do that?” He reaches out for me. “I’m sorry … I never wanted this to happen …” “The baby or screwing me?” I shoot back, snatching up my discarded underwear. His cooling semen is trickling down my thighs and I swallow hard, feeling sickened and dirty. “Hey!” He grabs my arm and yanks me around, pushing his face close to mine. “We’ve never just ‘fucked’! At least … as far as I’m concerned we haven’t.” I laugh humourlessly. “I hate to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but that’s exactly what we do - cheap, sordid fucking, nothing more!” His fingers pinch my flesh. “Don’t you ever say that, Kathryn!” he yells. “Don’t you ever fucking say that!” He ignores my snort of disbelief and continues his rant. “I love you, Kathryn,” his hands clutch at my face and his forehead touches mine. “I love you so fucking much …” Tears slip from my eyes and roll over his large hands. “But you married her!” “And I’ve always regretted it! If I could go back in time and do things differently, I would! I should’ve cancelled the wedding and left with you …” “Don’t say that,” I sob. “I should’ve married you. This baby should’ve been ours.” The painful reminder of Seven’s impending motherhood makes me push him away. “But it isn’t! It’s yours and hers!” He unsuccessfully tries to draw me back into his arms, before letting them fall hopelessly to his side. “Kathryn …” My knuckles are white as they hold the sheet tightly to my breasts. The action reminds me of a scene from our past, a forest glade on an uninhabited planet, a bath towel instead of a sheet, desire in his eyes instead of guilt. It was all so long ago. “I thought you and her …” I pause and my lower lip trembles, “didn’t …” “We don’t … it was just this one time … we’d been out with Tom and B’Elanna and it had been a nice evening, without any arguing, I’d drank a little too much and when we got home …” I hold a hand up. “Please spare me the details.” His eyes lock with mine and I can see the unshed tears. “Before that night we hadn’t done anything for months …” A thought enters my mind. “What about your boosters?” He takes a deep breath and dips his head. “I’m not on them.” “What?” my voice sounds a little shrill even to my own ears. “I haven’t renewed them.” My brow furrows and I watch as he nervously tugs his ear. Suddenly the realisation hits me and I suck in a sharp breath. “But you know that I can’t take them … that they don’t agree with me … the headaches … you know that because,” I finish on a whisper, “… I told you …” “I could never leave her, she depends on me, you know that, Kathryn, but I thought if there was a baby involved - if you were pregnant …” He reaches for me and I stagger backwards. “You bastard! You lousy son of a bitch!” The sheet tangles beneath my feet and I stumble then struggle as his arms enfold me. “Let me go!” His voice is hot near my ear and his palms flatten over my belly. “You were meant to be the mother of my child …” The emotional plea produces an image in my mind of my stomach swollen with our baby then the image fades and the emptiness hurts like a physical ache. “Don’t …” I brokenly whisper. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted children with … I can’t believe this has happened.” He holds me tighter and his voice cracks. “I love you, Kathryn. I need you in my life. I’ve tried to keep away from you, but I can’t … Spirits I wish things were different, but I can’t give you up … don’t leave me …” Turning in his arms, I release my hold of the sheet and take his face in my hands. I gaze at him tearfully. “I have no choice, don’t you see? This has always been wrong, Chakotay …” “No …” “Yes … you and Seven are going to have a family … they need you …” He clutches my body to his and I feel the naked press of his flesh against mine. “Please, Kathryn … Spirits, is this my punishment for not waiting?” “No, it’s my punishment for making you wait,” I hoarsely whisper. I cling to him as he kisses me, tasting the salty mix of our tears and promise myself that this will be the last time. “Make love to me.” He lifts me easily and carries me back to the rumpled bed. We fall onto it, our mouths and tongues locked together. He supports himself, not wanting to crush me, but I need to feel him so I tug him fully onto me, moaning as his chest presses into mine. “Please,” I beg, cuddling him with my arms and thighs. His hands move under my back and he holds me close, as he slowly penetrates me. “I’m sorry.” “I know you are.” My lips search for his and I kiss him deeply, wanting every part of our bodies touching. We start moving gently together, because there is no hurry, we’re not racing towards completion. He is hot and solid and I love the feel of his length inside me. I break our kiss to tell him. “How can this be wrong, Kathryn?” he asks. “When it feels so perfect?” “Ssh.” I want to forget reality. I want to pretend this is how it always is, that tomorrow I will wake in his arms and meet him for lunch, walk freely with him in the park afterwards, hand in hand, sharing sweet kisses and lingering touches. He’ll meet me from work and we’ll have dinner with my mom and Phoebe, we’ll smile and laugh and they’ll adore him and then later we’ll go home, to our bed, and make love through the night … “Oh, God,” I whimper, crying for the life I could’ve had. “I’m sorry … I’ve been so stupid …” “Don’t, please, Kathryn,” he murmurs, nuzzling my tears. “I love you so much, Chakotay.” His open mouth covers mine and we share a long sloppy kiss. “I love you too … I need you …” I am unable to reply, as I become lost in the sensation of his lips and teeth on my throat. Arching my neck, I silently beg for more and he doesn’t disappoint, lavishing the spot below my ear with flicks of his tongue and sharp nips. “Mmmm …” “Spirits, I love you … you’re so beautiful …” “You’re the beautiful one.” I grasp his buttocks and pull him closer, tilting my hips for greater penetration. We both give a low moan as his fat hardness presses deeper. “You always feel so good,” he murmurs, deliberately keeping it slow as he strokes in and out. I kiss the hollow of his throat. “It’s never been like this … with anyone else …” I quietly admit. His lips claim mine for a hungry kiss that evolves into a soft, loving one. “Promise me you’ll leave,” I am crying again. “I will …” My thumbs brush the tears gathering on his cheeks. “Promise me, Chakotay.” “I promise.” “We’ll be together …” “Yes … always.” Our lips meet again, sweetly, whilst our lower bodies move leisurely together. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close and my palms splay across his back, rubbing the sheen of sweat into his taut muscles. He is earthy and masculine and his scent fills my nostrils as surely as his hard length fills my sex. I love this man with everything I am and I want him, every part of him. I tighten my inner muscles, exquisitely massaging him as he pumps into me. “Spirits, Kathryn, what are you trying to do to me?” he rasps. I kiss him, over and over, breathlessly begging him to make me pregnant, to give me his child. I tell him I want him to come, to fill my belly with his seed. He sobs louder, clutching me to him as he thrusts harder, whispering hot, breathy promises, describing the beautiful daughter we’ll have – how much she’ll look like me. I tell him about our son, his dark hair, his killer dimples, his heart-wrenching smile that is so much like his father’s. We come at the same time, with our mouths locked together, swallowing each other’s groans, as my hungry body milks him for every last drop of his warm ejaculate. “Oh, God …” “Spirits …” He pants harshly against my neck and gives a few lazy pumps before rolling us onto our sides. I drape my thigh over his hip and feel his large palm cupping my buttock, holding me tightly to him and preventing his softening member from slipping out. He loves to remain inside me as long as he can. I love the rare occasions when we have the time to take a short nap, because then I wake up with the delicious sensation of him growing hard and erect within me. He presses a kiss into my hair. “I have to leave soon.” I cuddle closer and sigh. “I know.” “The anniversary dance … next week … for Voyager …” he begins. I tilt my head so I can see him. “Yes?” “Seven refuses to attend, says it’s irrelevant. So I was wondering if perhaps I could be your official escort?” “I’m sorry, I already have an escort,” I whisper. “Who?” His voice is perhaps harsher than he intended. “Adam Peterson.” “Admiral Peterson?” “Yes.” Why the hell am I feeling guilty? “I see.” I rise up onto my elbows and reach for his face. “If I’d only known sooner …” “So the rumours are true about you two?” “What rumours?” His flaccid member slips from me and I immediately miss the connection. “Everyone’s talking about it, Kathryn.” “About what?” He really is confusing me. “You and your toyboy lover.” I stare at him incredulously. “You have to be kidding! You’re the only man I’m involved with … who shares my bed!” His hands wander possessively along my body. “I don’t want him touching you …” “Excuse me?” “You’re mine, Kathryn, and I don’t want other men touching you or looking at you.” I sit upright. “Hold it right there, Chakotay, you’re the one who’s married not me and I’ll see who the hell I’ll like, when I like and if you don’t like it you can …” I inhale sharply as his fingers suddenly pinch my nipple. “I thought you had to leave,” I retort, batting his hand away. “I can spare another half-hour,” his hand moves to cup my drenched sex. “After all, I haven’t eaten my lunch yet.” I ignore the liquid pulsing that his touch invokes and stand up. “Grab a sandwich on your way home.” He watches me dress, smirking as I try to clean myself with a tissue. I hate the fact this cheap motel has no en-suite rooms. “Have you slept with him?” I pause in my fastening of my bra and shoot him my famous ‘death-glare’. “I’m not going to answer that.” “Have you?” There is something in his voice, a hint of vulnerability beneath the aggression and I find myself replying. “No.” “Good.” His attitude is pissing me off and I swing around to face him, hands on hips. On Voyager’s bridge I used to look intimidating in this pose, however, I think being half-dressed in uniform pants and a lacy push-up bra really spoils the effect. “You know, maybe I should screw Peterson! At least he’s not married! I’m wasting my life, Chakotay, in the hope you’ll finally make the decision to be with me!” “Damnit, Kathryn, you know I want to be with you, but it’s just not that easy!” I yank on my turtleneck. “I’ll tell you what’s not easy, it’s not easy waiting for your calls, it’s not easy to leave you and not want more, it’s not easy to spend my vacations alone because you’re spending them with your wife! I want more, Chakotay! I need more!” The room falls silent, except for the rustle of my jacket as I tug it on. He rises from the bed and pads closer. God, the bastard really does have an incredible body! “I need you,” he says, attempting to hold my hand. I turn away, heading for the door. This time I’m leaving and I’m not coming back. I’m going to call Adam Peterson when I return to my office and accept his earlier invitation to dine with him this evening. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life being Chakotay’s dirty secret. “Seven’s visiting her Auntie Irene this weekend … I could come over, stay the night … maybe cook us dinner?” I pause by the door. “Aren’t you afraid my neighbours will see you?” “I’ll wear my uniform, make it look like we’re working.” “Seems you have it all worked out,” I snort. “I want to see you.” I keep my back to him, and my resolve up, and key open the door. “Kathryn, please …” I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to do this. “Let me come over … let me spend the night with you …” I stare at him over my shoulder. “No,” I lie. The End Love it or hate it? Let me know! Return to main index |
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