Title: Vulcan Sexual Habits
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Kirk didn’t know where the obsession began, perhaps it was the restraint of the species, or perhaps the even more reserved nature of the only two Vulcans he knew – Spock and his father. He had been told that those two were much more restrained and conservative than the average Vulcan because of expectation and responsibility due to bearing the legacy of the house of Surak. Upon running into several other Vulcans here and there, and seeing minute glimpses of emotion in only minutes and overall a more relaxed attitude, he decided that it was true. He had always known that Spock was insecure about his Vulcanness and so had to be more Vulcan than other Vulcans. He also knew that Spock was appraised often to determine just where he was human, and so had to work to appear full Vulcan so that no one may see that bit of humanness they might imagine even it were only an extra blink or momentary squint that might be caused by nothing more than hypersensitive Vulcan hearing causing a greater startle reaction, or the closure of his nictitating membrane -- also Vulcan. Kirk could understand how Spock seemed more Vulcan. Sarek also had plenty of reason to appear more Vulcan, though even he seemed less stereotypically Vulcan than his son. He had the public eye trained on him every moment outside of his privacy, and with his position representing all of Vulcan as ambassador and more domestically as male head of the highest family, he had to appear as he was expected to appear -- Vulcan incarnate, above suspicion, though often, Kirk noticed, he slipped a little, whether it be by a passionate speech in the Federation Council that brought the house down, looking like a love-sick puppy when staring into his wife’s eyes, or tossing a Tellarite. He had heard the argument from Sarek third-hand that Gav had lunged for his throat, but he had seen Sarek’s expression after – barely perceptibly smug, he had enjoyed it – and he had heard word for word what Sarek had said to provoke Gav when he replayed the recording of the reception. It was quite clear the Vulcan ambassador had had enough of Gav and had wanted to bring the matter to a head, a bulkhead. He had only wanted an excuse, a rationalization to get physical, Kirk presumed from the fighting words and inferences. A dangerous and unrestrained violence almost ended their race, and Surak had saved them. He thought it interesting that it was only the anger that was emphasized, when, in fact, it was all of the emotions that were set at high volume he found out, including lust. His perusal of their history showed an amazingly erotic element in all of their artwork before the Reformation. In much of the songs, poetry and painting there was rapturous groping, licking, sucking and fucking, lots of it, and in every imaginable way. He thought it curious that that part of their history, when presented for other worlds, seemed to have been censored so that the eroticism was highly downplayed. He had turned to finding black market Vulcan erotic literature, illustrations of photos and paintings and then more factual information on their sexual nature as a race. And, as in any civilization, suppressing the material made it spring up all over surreptitiously, even authenticated versions. It was only a matter of searching for it, and having the money to buy the pirated materials, before Kirk found a supply to answer so many interesting questions and peak his curiosity even further, even to the point of obsession. It seemed that due to their long warrior background, bisexuality became the norm, and somehow translated into a biological necessity. To this day, it seems that all Vulcans, with few exceptions, are bisexual. But due to their dwindling population and low birth rates it became imperative to sublimate the drive for same sex unions in order to save their race, and therefore the tradition of bonding to one that could allow for impregnation began and pon farr, provided by nature itself, provided the incentive to reproduce beyond the normal reproduction rate as a sort of extra helping of babies. To Kirk’s astonishment, he found a detailed book on sexual cues that Vulcans seem to read off of one another, similar to flirting, an interesting science still unrealized by even most humans of what attracts one to each other, yet is rarely understood. Being Vulcans, they researched it thoroughly in pre-reform times – quantifying and tabulating the smallest details so that it read like a recipe for sex, just pick your Vulcan. Though he assumed there had to be some ‘pheromone fit’ between the potential partners to be effective. Kirk had found a possible gold mine, and while he did not intend to torture any Vulcan out of sadistic impulse, and had no serious homosexual leanings himself (or at least not yet, but he kept his mind open to any sexual possibilities) the idea of testing these theories was too intriguing and seductive. It seemed as if fate had intervened to open his eyes to such a possibility. Also, he needed to know if this was purely fanciful as the many pseudo-sciences that existed on Earth, or real, and therefore likely dangerous in the wrong hands, especially with humans’ general affinity for and curiosity with Vulcans, too many to the point of obsession that it has its own term –Vulcanfilia – that is too commonly understood and seen. It was his duty, to couch it in Vulcan terms, he decided (with a grin) to explore the possibility, at least. He had thought to use Spock as his first subject, since he was always close by, but felt concerned about the fact that his first officer might get the wrong idea, or that he might hurt their close friendship or so-effective command team and persona. But soon after his practice sessions alone were complete and he desired a test subject, a perfect situation developed. They were to transport Ambassador Sarek to a world considering Federation membership. They had wanted both the ambassador himself as well as a representative of Starfleet so that they may meet with their supposed future ‘protector.’ And there would be allowed no aides or secretaries, the reason for this was not provided or allowed. But it certainly fit well into his plans. It was a communal type of people among a beautiful landscape of airy and moss-draped woods as if plucked out of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” The humanoid-type inhabitants lived in feather-light half-domes – little, almost transparent, domed ceilings atop slender posts supporting it. The people seemed not to think in terms of modesty or commitment, and in fact, seemed to couple quite randomly, often in the open, with no thought as to who might see or hear. They thought it perfectly appropriate to provide Kirk and Sarek with a single bed between them and no chance at privacy, unless they walked off into the woods. It had been at their initial meeting when Kirk made his first move. He had been watching Sarek with his usual grace and easy hint of charm that he seemed to pull out like tools to create an atmosphere of acceptance and generosity, tightly reined in by his competence, fueled by his confidence. Their possible new members were beaming and Sarek radiated his approval. Kirk smiled and
attempted to look competent and imposing
though he felt that he rather blended in instead, which both irritated
him and
fueled the fire of his new expedition into the nether “Yes, Captain?” Sarek asked, looking curious. Kirk held his eye for the recommended count that pushed past the glance of an acquaintance and even the longer look of a friend, but stopped short of the lengthened stare of a threat, and pulled his eyes away. That should translate as sexual interest – almost predatory, yet without enmity. “Oh, nothing,” he said with a soft smile that was neither professional nor warm, something more animalistic and aggressive like the pre-reform Vulcans might have radiated – the hunter stalking its prey. He noticed that Sarek looked somewhat confused, then blinked and turned back to collecting up their materials. He had much experience with so many races, Kirk decided, that he had an understanding of how responses might not quite fit his expectations. A learned tolerance and patience. Kirk let his gaze drift slowly down Sarek’s body, imagining that he was still probably aware of Kirk’s perusal through his peripheral vision, and not aware that Kirk knew this. He noticed Sarek’s lips tighten slightly, but he allowed Kirk’s ogling. On their way back
to their hut, Kirk followed Sarek across
the soft, spongy natural ground cover that would likely allow him to
sneak up
on Sarek later and spy on him, he realized. Scanning
his form, he noticed the tight buttocks and muscled back, letting his
thoughts
lead him where they never had before. He
had always appreciated the ambassador aesthetically from the moment he
had
first seen him approach across the shuttle bay on the journey to But Kirk had never let his mind wander into the realm of homoerotica, and was finding it more pleasing than he would’ve thought. He realized he was getting turned on by watching the muscles shift and transfer their tension in Sarek’s backside, the pull of the fabric across his broad back, as they followed the slight path and , and smiled at this new opportunity to push his experiment. “Ambassador?” Sarek slowed, stopped, and turned to Kirk with a relaxed, somewhat curious, expression. Kirk straightened his posture, pressed his hips forward, so his slight erection would be more noticeable, and knew that his eyes should have noticeably dilated, and helped them along with the thought that Sarek would have to undress in front of him soon and imagining him removing his pants. He noticed Sarek’s eyes flick down to the erection and away, looking vaguely uncomfortable as he met Kirk’s eyes again. “Captain?” Kirk approached with that same soft, fuck-me smile he used on the ladies and stepped closer than Sarek would feel comfortable with. Being the diplomat, Kirk was certain that the Vulcan would not step away and risk insult. He gave a curious look, and leaned even closer. Sarek’s expression faded to stone. “You smell good. Is that cologne?” Sarek flushed slightly, likely at the intimacy of the action and remark. “Vulcans do not commonly wear cologne, Captain.” But he did not comment on the illogical use of adorning one’s body with unnecessary scents, which Kirk would have expected of any Vulcan. Kirk remembered Spock mentioning that the captain’s own pheromones would more likely attract the ladies than his cologne. Kirk cocked an eyebrow and offered the fuck-me smile again. “I assume we’re having dinner together?” Sarek blinked at that. “That would seem unavoidable since our meals will be delivered to our hut and we are its only residents.” He turned rather abruptly and continued on. Did he imagine the flippant tone? Kirk let his arm swing and brushed Sarek’s hip, acting as if he hadn’t noticed, but saw Sarek flinch slightly at the contact. Sarek put distance between them, seemingly bothered but likely unsure whether Kirk’s forwardness was intentional or just another facet of his odd personality that Sarek found intriguing but unpredictable. The idea of the captain flirting with him would be the last thing he would likely think of, Kirk surmised. The ambassador
had surely heard of his reputation with the
ladies with his race’s excellent hearing and the amount of time spent
so far on
the After they reached the hut, as Kirk predicted Sarek had politely ignored Kirk’s seemingly inappropriate behavior and began to change into more casual attire for the long, cooler evening that lay ahead. The sun was dropping in the sky, yet the several full moons were already becoming apparent so that it appeared the daylight would only be dimmed as if for a candlelight dinner, which Kirk thought entirely appropriate and grinned. Sarek had not
seemed to notice Kirk watching him undress to
bare skin. Kirk took the time to admire
the Vulcan’s smooth skin that rippled with muscles beneath. It seemed almost entirely unblemished accept
for the various scars from his many missions. He
had heard that Vulcans did not see the point of
cosmetic surgery for
something so minor as a scar, as long as it was not distracting and did
not
impede function. He appreciated the
taut, well-shaped buttocks and muscled thighs. His skin was a shade or
two
bronzer and richer than Spock’s fairer complexion that appeared a bit
greener. Sarek turned facing Kirk to reach for his warmer evening clothes and caught the captain watching him. Sarek’s Vulcan lack of modesty kept him from turning away, but his curiosity finally got the better of him as Kirk allowed himself to stare at Sarek’s front side without his embarrassment or usual propriety forcing him to turn to allow Sarek at least some semblance of privacy. He allowed his gaze to drift to Sarek’s genitals – a well-endowed male, even for his broad-chested, 6’ 2” frame – and wondered at Amanda’s petite frame accommodating such. He flicked his eyes up to Sarek’s. “Your wife’s a lucky woman.” The tone was a little lewder than he'd even meant it to be, but he'd started to imagine touching that thick organ displayed before him and cupping the hefty balls in his palm, and the huskiness in his voice had been unexpected even to himself. Sarek had seemed to freeze at that. Kirk noticed a tinge of green on his cheeks. He had embarrassed him; he felt shock that that was all it had taken. He backed off a bit, “I just mean you are still in great shape, sir.” Sarek looked confused. “I am only 104.342 Terran years in age, Captain, equivalently about your age now, as Vulcans age more slowly than Humans.” “You look good,” Kirk added unnecessarily with the ‘fuck-me’ smile and another obvious sweep of Sarek’s body. “Those robes you often wear don’t do you justice.” Sarek’s mouth quirked at that and an eyebrow climbed; he looked irritated and possibly perplexed. “Perhaps there are benefits in such,” he said coolly and turned to pull on what appeared to be very form-fitting pants and tunic made of an almost flimsy thinsulate material that only barely-veiled his nice package. Kirk smiled at how the usual Vulcan immodesty in casual attire would attract more attention on this planet than even on Earth. He had heard that Vulcans were starting to change their mode of dress to bulkier and less revealing around most other species, especially humans and Deltans. Too many incidents had occurred and the general attitude of the public was to blame the victim for his attire being too tempting. A rather disgusting throwback to blaming victims for being raped. But Vulcans were also rarely available or interested, creating a base of resentment and irritation with them that though was illogical, was certainly Human or Deltan enough. Kirk swore, as Sarek turned back toward him, that he could, at the right angle, see the double ridge pressing the fabric. He wondered if he might be able to flirt with Sarek enough to get enough of an erection to see it clearly through those pants. He thanked the stars that this planet’s normal temperature was close to 100 degrees, with only the slightest variation from day to night. He might be a little hot, but it allowed a nice view of the ambassador. It was warm enough that a robe was unnecessary, and Sarek would try to adjust the less important ways of fitting in as was possible. Sarek was watching him quizzically. “Are you feeling well, Captain?” Kirk couldn’t help but tease a little, “I was about to ask you the same thing, sir. You looked a little flushed there for a moment.” Sarek’s mouth tightened ever-so-slightly. “Perhaps you are feeling the ‘cabin-fever’ as your kind puts it. This society seems quite permissive. You might seek out one of the many females that looked…cooperative, to slake your…energies.” Kirk realized this was an insult. He had successfully angered the ambassador, but his flirting was subtle enough, or Sarek found it distasteful enough, not to refer to it specifically. Easier to imply that Kirk was undisciplined and oversexed and therefore likely not even aware of his seeming predation. Kirk decided to try to divert the ambassador with his famous innocent and hurt expression that could be quite convincing. “I was enjoying your company, sir. I have always respected and admired you. I had hoped you would also be gratified to share this mission with me.” Sarek blinked at that; his brows knitted. “Forgive me, Captain, perhaps my separation from my wife is affecting me more than I realized. I meant no insult.” Bullshit, Kirk thought, but afforded a complacent look of relief. “Yes, it is…unsettling…to be around such permissiveness, and be…alone.” He felt more than saw Sarek’s jaw clench at that. Sarek may not have implied that he missed sexual relations with his wife, but Kirk had no trouble inferring so, albeit in a polite-sounding way. And Sarek could not exactly try to clarify without discussing his sex life. Kirk continued,
“There appeared to be quite a few females
with their eyes on you also, Ambassador.” Kirk
was beginning to enjoy the ambiguity game that was
Sarek’s
irritating forte. He did not exactly say
that the ambassador would have sex with one of the locals in the
absence of his
wife, just as Sarek hadn’t actually said Kirk could go have sex with
one or
more of them. He met Sarek’s stare with
a pleasant and wholesome farm boy smile manufactured from many years in
Sarek merely nodded, but Kirk caught a quick double take from Sarek, as if he were trying to catch a hint from some duplicitous expression Kirk might allow. He was very much enjoying Sarek’s company and grinned only when he turned away to step around the table, his face out of view. The ambassador was a brilliant and interesting man who could be quite gracious and charming when he desired. But Kirk was enjoying his darker, stealthier and sexier side at the moment, a bundle of hot coals that might be poked into a fire. He had heard once that Sarek had said that his teasing of Amanda had rather potent benefits; Kirk, being into the teasing game himself, realized immediately what Sarek had meant. Bad boys were sexier, and teasing was enough to spice up those private times. The comment had given Kirk a window into Sarek’s mostly hidden personality, adding to his already significant complexity and depth. Kirk realized Sarek often played humans like game pieces – in diplomacy and, sometimes, in his personal life. Kirk would enjoy a bit of his own play against Sarek. The food was brought in, the trays of it set over the table. Finger foods, all vegetarian as prescribed by this culture, but rich and decadent nonetheless. The richness would likely be unappreciated by Sarek and likely to give Kirk a stomach ache. But the oils would allow for a lot of seductive finger-licking and sucking. Which gave him another idea. He motioned to one of the pretty servers. “Could we get a vessel of qua-lae, please?” Sarek saw the pretty server smile hugely at Kirk and then Sarek, who closed his eyes, likely at not only the complete lack of discretion, but the impression it gave. Kirk saw Sarek’s reaction and forced himself not to smile. “What?” He asked a little too innocently. Sarek stared at him. “You do realize what you asked for?” “Yes, lubricant. They said just to ask and they’d bring it. They were probably wondering why we hadn’t asked for it sooner, surely they are all…busy with their own…by now.” Kirk smiled. “I was just curious, since they offered it so often today.” “You asked for us, and for only one vessel,” Sarek said, still sounding irritated to Kirk’s ear. “I thought you might be curious to see it, too.” Kirk dug into the food, as if nothing had happened. Sarek stared at him. “They would assume we would want to use it.” Kirk only stared as he chewed, not at all careful with the greasy food so that he would have more to lick and suck. Sarek continued, tensing, slowing his speech as if speaking to a dense child. “We showed no interest in any of their females who offered themselves to us.” “Your point, sir?” Kirk was having difficulty keeping the grin off his face. He imagined steam coming out of Sarek’s ears. “They will now assume we will be having…making use of…that lubricant…between us.” Kirk so wanted to tell Sarek that all he had tried to point out to Kirk was not only clear long back, but intended to fluster his reserve for Kirk’s amusement, but he feared how angry Sarek would become at that, and besides, he wanted the game to last. He allowed realization to dawn on his face after several believable beats. “Ohhhh.” He went for a little more mileage, “Well, you are quite handsome, and did I mention that your body…” “Yes,” Sarek uncharacteristically cut him off. “We should eat before the large quantity of grease congeals to make these dishes even less appetizing.” Kirk took full advantage of the tasty oils that continually coated his fingers. He licked and sucked his fingers to full abandon and much noise, noticing Sarek’s discomfort. He began to judge which of his finger misfeasances had the greatest effect on the Vulcan and was rapidly more efficient at making his companion as uncomfortable as possible. He had known that Vulcans never licked or sucked their fingers in public no matter how messy their food, for the simple reason that Vulcans were very tactile, and their hands extremely sensitive, in fact, one of the top erotic locations on the body. He tried not to think of an analogy on humans that he would be licking. Sarek picked at bits of food, obviously either not hungry, unenthused with the fare, or completely disgusted with Kirk’s behavior. Then another idea came to mind. Vulcans lost their appetites when aroused. Perhaps he was having more success than he thought! And Sarek was eating so little, that Kirk began to wonder if there was not another reason he was not getting up from the table. It was not like Sarek to dilly-dally. “Sarek?” Kirk said, taking full advantage of his companion’s lack of attention to brush his fingers lightly down his hand -- a significantly erotic act toward a Vulcan. Sarek jumped and jerked his hand from the table. Kirk provided a thoughtful expression as he dipped his finger in and out of his mouth. Sarek stared at it momentarily, flushing again, before he looked over Kirk’s shoulder instead. “What are you looking at?” Kirk asked, imagining that for Sarek it must have been like trying to politely not notice someone masturbating in front of him. He looked somewhat disconcerted and uncomfortable. He seemed to have lost interest in his food altogether but yet he did not get up from the table. Perhaps he was hoping Kirk would leave first and began to seriously wonder at the affect he had had on the ambassador. “Nothing,” Sarek said, tonelessly. Kirk smiled. “Can be very distracting with all of the…physical activity…occurring around us. So can Vulcans really meditate away the frustrations it might create?” He tried for his most innocent expression. The Vulcan turned to stone again. “I think I once told you that what a Vulcan meditates on is a most personal thing, not to be discussed.” His tone was cool; he seemed to want to deflect Kirk’s curiosity, or perhaps any argument to more easily let the subject die. Kirk had done
some reading up on why Vulcans meditate since he
had seen it was such a necessity for Spock and especially at Sarek’s
angry
comment regarding such just before he collapsed on the journey to Vulcans meditated to sublimate their emotions that had built up by using logical analysis of events, but those emotions usually included a significant dose of sexual frustration. Emotions and sex – two things Sarek would least likely want to discuss. Kirk decided that Sarek’s need for meditation was great, but his needs perhaps could not be reduced to avoid embarrassment at the moment. As a noise caught Kirk’s attention just outside the dome behind him, Sarek stood quickly, turned away and fairly stalked across the cabin. “I will be meditating for the next few hours if you do not mind.” Kirk missed his chance to catch whether Sarek had an erection, and sighed. Kirk realized that the comment had been rhetorical and polite, but he was tempted to say yes, he did mind, that he didn’t want Sarek to destroy his only possible evidence. How would Kirk ever know if the cues had actually worked? He truly felt the scoundrel, for a moment or two, but when else would he have such an opportunity and such an environment? Sarek kneeled at the far corner of the dome cover. His head bowed and his hands in front so that he looked almost to be praying. It seemed such a submissive pose for such a dominant man to take. He had seen Spock meditate often, but the son seemed like a lamb compared to the father, and it almost seemed an oxymoron and at the same time almost erotic to watch the ambassador settle into an almost vulnerable, if not sacrificial, pose, hardly conducive to what to all intents and purposes still seem like such a warrior people. Kirk stared at the knelt figure trying to fathom what to do when their young server bustled back toward their dome for the dishes. As courtesy in this culture required, they each had to acknowledge another with a common greeting of the people, which was only a short greeting and a hand signal requiring both hands. He noticed Sarek quickly rise to greet the young woman as she entered and so therefore was able to face away from the captain. The woman happened to look down near his crotch however and say something Kirk missed and Sarek replied with a courteous ‘please do not concern yourself’. To which the young woman responded that she would very much like to extend all of the courtesies ‘to his honor,’ as they called him. She looked quite enthusiastic. Sarek responded, “That will not be necessary, I assure you.” She looked disappointed at this, and turned to see Kirk watching intently. She smiled and nodded in what appeared to be understanding. She approached and grabbed at the dishes with a big smile at Kirk. “I will return quickly with the vessel of qua-lae,” she said loudly enough for Sarek to hear also. With this she looked over at Sarek and back to Kirk, further evidence as far as Kirk was concerned, but he wanted more information but wasn’t sure how to get it without Sarek hearing, except perhaps to extend the conversation and perhaps pique the interest of the young woman. “I don’t think we will need the vessel of qua-lae, after all,” Kirk said. To this the young woman looked confused. “But his honor might need it,” she said quite confidently. “I don’t think he will,” Kirk said. “Perhaps your peoples are different?” She asked. “They don’t prefer qua-lae to join?” Kirk tried not to grin at her concern for their comfort, knowing she herself was causing severe discomfort for Sarek as he tried to meditate. He was sure that Sarek was intent on every word and willing her, as much as any Vulcan could, to just leave and not come back until morning. Kirk could not have planned it better. “In some instances, depending on… He was interrupted by Sarek rising to his feet suddenly, “I will be going for a walk,” he said a bit brusquely and stepped out the door without turning. The young server rushed off with the dishes. Kirk grabbed at his shoes and followed Sarek surreptitiously. Sarek walked away from the settlement and headed out into the hills. He appeared and disappeared in the distance as the shadows of the trees shaded him. Kirk kept enough distance so he would not be discovered, yet close enough not to be heard. He watched the ambassador closely so that he could hide quick enough should he turn around. Sarek dropped out of sight and Kirk frowned and slowed. Had he been spotted? He stepped aside into the brush and crouched down, but Sarek did not reappear. Instead he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Someone followed him. Whether purposefully or merely inadvertently he could not guess, but the peoples of this planet were quite peaceful, and so he merely waited, still hidden, to see who it might be and what motive there might be, if any. The pretty young thing that had served them their dinner and taken away their dishes appeared. She passed by with seeming purpose, looking confused and around as if she’d lost somebody. Kirk assumed he had been followed then. He watched her, and took the opportunity to gaze at her body unnoticed – a little slender for his tastes, and a little young, but these people all seemed younger than they should be and had a less obvious appearance of aging, even less obvious than the Vulcans. He thought of Sarek again and hoped he’d not lost him altogether. She had passed by and was heading the direction Sarek had taken. He waited a few minutes so that if Sarek had been awaiting whoever had followed, he would only think it one of the natives ever-curious and helpful. She disappeared over the ridge as Sarek had, and he squelched his curiosity a few moments longer. He slipped out, immensely curious. They had only disappeared – no confrontation, no speaking at all. He hurried along the path focusing his footfalls on the moister, solider parts of the path to stay as silent as possible. He reached the plateau and saw before him a large meadow trimmed in tall trees, with Sarek at the center knelt upon the grass, turned from him enough that he still had no view of a possible erection. He was starting to feel like a combination of viderazzi and pervert, but his curiosity had only grown, and he felt he’d lose his chance if he paused any longer. He noticed the young woman stepping along without a care, directly toward Sarek, likely ready to offer any services yet again. He launched down toward the meadow just as she broke free of the foliage and would soon be noticed. He all but grabbed her and she only turned her head in ready acceptance and curiosity when any other species might have been startled, if not afraid, at his sudden appearance and physicality. “You would like
something,” she asked with a smile, scanning
his body. Kirk could only feel relief that the Federation had found these people first, even the thought of such equanimity and ready acceptance being placed before the Klingons, Romulans or Orions made him shiver. He smiled back at the seeming childish innocence. “The ambassador might prefer to be left alone,” he said as he removed his hand from her arm that she never pulled from. She looked back toward Ambassador Sarek. His head was now ducked and his hands were clasped as if praying. “I only mean to check for his needs.” Kirk smiled at the all-inclusive offer always on this people’s lips. If they opened a resort, they’d be wealthier than even the Vulcans. But they weren’t materialistic and so would not care but to please, almost inadvertent pleasure slaves. “I think he would refuse anything you might offer. His people have their own way of fulfilling their needs.” Her face screwed up in confusion. “He only sits in a meadow. He does not appear even to unclothe himself…” She stared at him, at a loss. “I will check on him only,” she said. “He would not like to be disturbed at the moment,” Kirk said. She cocked her head at this and nodded. “I need not disturb him. I will see that he has no need, or that it is being taken care of, and then I will leave.” She headed off for a better view, along the edges of the meadow, hidden by brush. Kirk almost laughed at the similarity in their quests and decided to join her. It was a strange culture, very much saturated with sex in almost every form. Some of which made even him uncomfortable. He had realized that he had amused Sarek greatly when he had asked about the use of the many animals that still hung around even though well-fed. The answer had made him blush like a schoolgirl. He had gotten used to the many windows filled with people watching others having sex, and being offered a prime spot to watch at almost every turn Before long they had traveled around far enough to see Sarek’s front, but his arms had dropped, covering the one spot they had both meant to check. Sarek looked intently at the ground not two feet from him, and he didn’t look pleased. He was obviously not meditating, and yet simply stayed in position, his arms uncharacteristically rubbing together, then gripping, as his head dropped again. He seemed to heave a great breath, then his arms braced upon his thighs, revealing an obvious and large erection. Kirk immediately felt guilt. The erection looked quite uncomfortable and obviously meditation was not working. The woman stood and started toward Sarek again, but Kirk caught her before she broke out into the open. “He has need still,” she said. “Please, it is not his way,” Kirk said. “He would be more uncomfortable if you approached him now.” This seemed to work. She backed off and frowned, then sat down and watched him again. She blinked and sighed. “A very strange kind. He is pretty. Many would like to take care of his need.” Kirk chortled, and sat back. Leaving now would make then vulnerable to being caught spying. Sarek would see them should he leave on their way out, and Kirk wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be staying since his meditating hadn’t worked out. He sat back as the young woman had and awaited Sarek’s exit. But Sarek didn’t leave. Instead, he unfastened his pants, and pulled them down his thighs. His erection stood out from his body, his balls tight and full just below. Kirk stared, as did the young woman. She smiled hugely at the display, and her hand sneaked down underneath her wisp of a skirt. Kirk looked away, back to Sarek. Was shocked to see his hand around his organ, his breathing more pronounced, his eyes closed. Kirk stared at the show, disbelieving, shocked at all he was seeing. He turned to the young woman, trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of what she was doing. “We need to be quiet,” he said, a little breathless. She gave her people’s sign of assent – a jerk of her head up - but continued with her ministrations, wattching Sarek intently. By the time he turned back to Sarek, he was pumping his erection, which looked even bigger, arched over it, his eyes squeezed shut as if in pain. A low moan barely reached them. From the look of the swollen genitals, Kirk couldn’t imagine it would take long at all. But the pumping continued. Sarek’s chest expanding and contracting, pressing out the slight material, moans slipping out as his pace accelerated. His face appeared tight, his mouth half open, and he seemed on the edge of release, but only continued, and continued, his moans now sounding pleading and desperate, until he stopped, still breathing hard, and shook his head. Kirk couldn’t believe it. He had been pumping for so long, his organ looking painfully engorged and ready, and it seemed as if so slight a touch should bring him off. He started to wonder if a Vulcan could masturbate, and remembered that he’d seen no mention of it in all that he’d read. He swallowed. What if a Vulcan couldn’t bring himself off? What if they needed another, or worse, only their bondmate? He swallowed at what he might have done. Finally Sarek refastened his pants and walked away. He and the girl followed as quietly as they could. They arrived back at the hut to see Sarek again trying to meditate, likely a last desperate attempt. Kirk was feeling quite guilty and now concerned at what he had done. “Sir?” Kirk asked quietly. “Yes?” Sarek’s voice sounded a bit hollow. “I sense that you are uncomfortable,” Kirk began. “It is of no concern,” Sarek said dismissively. “But it may be, should it distract you from this important mission,” Kirk said. “Perhaps I could somehow help?” Sarek’s head pulled up at that. “I don’t think you understand the…issue.” Kirk paused and stepped closer. “I think I do sir. I think I could help.” Sarek turned and stared at him, then shook his head and turned away, back into his attempt at meditation. “I think it was you that said that sometimes we must do what we would not normally do to foster the greater good.” Sarek sighed at that. “It would be best if all of your concentration could be focused on the negotiations. These people need our protection. They do not understand how others might take advantage…” Kirk grimaced at that last. But it was a simple mistake, a cultural mistake, to assume Vulcans might be able to relieve themselves as Humans could. He had not had such dark intent as to leave Sarek suffering and distracted from an important mission. It was his duty really to fix what he had ‘misaligned’, wasn’t it? “I know that you would not take advantage of any of these people, even though they continually offer,” Kirk said. “It would be wrong,” Sarek said. “We are here to offer guidance through what they do not understand. Our role is that of mentor. We should not take from them in their trust.” Kirk thought as much. “But I am not so naïve and trusting. And I have much experience.” Sarek was silent, then shifted again. Kirk had to wonder if he was exciting Sarek with even the discussion and possibility. “I must assume that Vulcans cannot…” How was he to put this? “It is difficult for a Vulcan to relieve himself in that way, yes.” Sarek’s voice was dull and tight. “I do not understand why I should be in such a state, but also feel that it would be wrong to involve you.” “How would it be wrong, sir?” “I am not female,” Sarek said. Kirk smiled. He couldn’t believe he had even gotten this far; Sarek must really be at the edge. “I have male partners as well as female.” Sarek’s head came up again at that. “Indeed.” “And I am open-minded as to most aspects, whatever you have in mind…” Sarek shifted again, his hands now gripped his thighs and his breathing had accelerated. Kirk continued. “I would assume then that Vulcans need some sort of orifice…” Sarek only nodded briskly. Kirk realized he was enjoying this and again felt guilty. He could not help but draw it out, if just a bit. “A warm orifice to enter…” He could see Sarek’s arms shudder at this. “Yes.” His voice was deep and throaty. “From your marriage to Amanda, I would assume a human’s would be warm enough?” He himself had a raging hard-on just watching Sarek’s excitement and talking of such personal things. “Yes.” Again the rough voice with a note of irritation now. “We could call for some qua-lae, or perhaps I could use my mouth…” “James…” There was a slight shudder in his voice. “Whatever you wish. I would be in your debt. I would also give you release should you need it, of course.” This was only getting better and better. He called for the qua-lae from the same young server, who ran off for it. He grasped Sarek’s arm and pulled him up and toward the bed, a little more energetically than he’d meant to. Sarek almost stumbled where he was led, looking a little out of it, likely too focused on his need, which pressed largely from his groin. His inattention would help matters, as a few of the locals had already stepped up to watch. The idea of an audience turned Kirk on so that he was getting mighty uncomfortable himself down there, especially when he remembered Sarek’s offer to give him release also, and couldn’t help eying Sarek’s well-formed ass, and likely quite tight. He had to wonder if he might be the first to use it. Together they wrestled off Sarek’s pants, but before they could get them past his knees, Sarek cried out, “Please, James…” His cock was hard and thick, his balls shining and globe-like tight. All of his genitals seemed almost to throb with his need. Kirk threw off his shirt and dropped his mouth upon it. Sarek arched and cried out, thrusting. Kirk only had to suck for a few moments before Sarek came, gripping Kirk’s hair and gasping as he thrashed, with one last cry as a final shudder ran through him. He collapsed, lay among the now rumpled bedding, oblivious as Kirk pulled away the rest of Sarek’s clothes in the bright moonlight. The crowd had grown large and many were jutting their heads up in positive comment. The qua-lae arrived and the young server sat close to the bed to be of assistance and watch. She took a damp towel and blotted Sarek’s face. Kirk could not help but notice that Sarek barely noticed that or the crowd, likely still high from the intense orgasm. Kirk reached for the qua-lae and was about to cover Sarek’s penis, but instead, in a moment of strategy and tactics of a premier ship captain, he slathered it on his own and rolled Sarek over. He had offered himself, and it would only be fair to give and receive equally, until at least he no longer had anything to give. He felt a little
guilty that Sarek seemed not to notice the
now large crowd, but if anything this would surely bring another
commonality
and more understanding and acceptance to the negotiations.
They would share in the one attribute that
seemed so important to this people. So,
in a way, he had helped the negotiations in the best way he could and
knew
how. After all, when in He rose and fixed his cock at the entrance and shoved himself in, smoothly yet with some force, as Vulcan’s were apt, and lay himself upon the ambassador who seemed still lost in his own world, but content, and began to ride him with purpose and vigor, pounding into the Vulcan, watching the Vulcan’s body surge forward and back with his thrusts. Sarek moaned and spread his legs further, completely submitting, and Kirk could not help but think what a deal those pirated materials had been. Sarek had no clue that Kirk had orchestrated all, and with the smashing success this mission would now be from all of the happy grins about them, they would have many more missions together, and Kirk would have many more opportunities. You could almost say he had found a free pass to Vulcan’s ass, and chortled. A vacation on Vulcan was looking far more full of potential! The End |