The BLTS Archive- Slick Moves
Story Three in the Kathryn, for The Very Last Time Trilogy
by Delta Story (deltastory@geocities.com)

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Kathryn remained silent, awaiting his response. Her body was red and
rosy and radiating with warmth, thanks to the very talented hands of
her first officer's skills.  Her arms were languorously draped around
his neck, his muscles now taunt with an unexpected tenseness.  Now her
eyes had taken on the offensive play that his had done for so long. 
Like a mountain lion stalking its prey, Chakotay had found that prey
can quickly become predator; even mountain lions can become trapped in
a canyon.  The perspiration anointing his body was not only from the
exertion of his massage efforts.

His emotional state had numbed his mind, and he was barely aware of
her hands padding down his back.  Just as he had taken her by surprise 
in removing the curtain of the sheet from her earlier, she had hooked 
her fingers through and around and under the sash holding his robe
together, loosening its grasp.  In one swift maneuver, she pulled the 
cinching sash and covering from off his torso.  Just as she had gasped 
earlier, he did so now, as the cool air from the room prickled his 
moist, exerted skin.

"Let's see ... what would relieve our stress, Chakotay; any ideas? 
Perhaps together we might find a... mutually satisfying arrangement." 
One of her hands, low on his body, sought out the dual sacs between
his legs, gently cradling the soft tissue with its compacted riches. 
At the same time, her other hand encircled the raised fiery tower that
insinuated itself between them.  With a practiced rhythm, she
alternated pressure and release on her treasures.

"Is there something I can do for you, Commander?" she whispered in his
ear, punctuating her words with her moist tongue around his ear.

His mind was muddled mush as his body took over.  His penis was now
dancing in time with her lead, jumping and whirling and beating in a
rhythm that only their bodies knew.  Words appeared behind his eyes,
but yet he could not will them to his lips.  The dance had taken over
everything; he was no longer in reality.  Without a conscious mandate,
his arms had encircled her, his hands cupping the rounded flesh of her
buttocks, now rocking her in time with the beat that she had begun,
their forms merged in measured movements, swaying to music that
existed only in their beings.

With his hands forming a foundation, she twined her right leg around
his pillar of a lower left limb, strong and firm in its stance.  Like 
an ivy vine sending put supporting roots, her leg clung to him.  Once 
she was certain of its shoring, she proceeded to repeat the action 
with her other leg, her arms and hands hugging his back.  The motions 
had spread the opening between her legs, allowing the engorged tissues 
of her nether lips to embrace his column of tissue that nestled into 
the soft nest she provided.

The dance continued with a quick change in step.  No longer was the
motion in a horizontal line; vertical thrusts became the moves of
choice.  No decision was needed; as he swiftly slid into her.  Barely
audible moans were the only indication in the boundary that had been
crossed.

She moved herself in short, sliding glides up his body, the
perspiration on both of them lubricating them externally, allowing
them a dual sensation in their carnal knowledge.  As her body elevated
itself in readiness for another plunge, his lips caught one of her
tits. An electrifying charge surged through her body with the sudden
shock, sending a cascade of sensation through her.  His next upward
plunge was met by the resulting flood of delight, washing him with the
warm wetness.  She cried out with the sudden climax.  She leaned back,
pulling his inserted organ with her.  The unanticipated flex triggered
his response, and he felt himself rushing to met her orgasm.  He
quickly pulled her back to him, as he automatically plunged himself to
the hilt several times.  A fleeting flutter floated through her as his
release culminated.

Their four legs suddenly became soft rubber.  She released herself,
and staggered to a standing position, while he backed up to the wall
behind him and braced himself against its non-moving surface.  She
stumbled over to him, and leaned against the smooth coolness of the
wall also.

"Well, I don't know about you ... but I feel as if I just got out of
my first zero-gravity experience," she smiled.

"Are you saying you need to get your land legs back?" he grinned back.

"If that's what you want to call it," she answered.

He tentatively took a couple of steps away from the sustaining wall,
testing the stability of his balance.  He swayed a bit, and quickly
sought support once more.  "Hmm.  Can't say that I've ever been
er..um... thrown off my balance quite like that."

"Why, Commander ... are you saying that I am a disorienting
experience?" she smirked.

"Kathryn, you *always* keep me guessing," he laughed. 

He leaned his head back, as if seeking a calm to its spinning.  She
took the opportunity of his eyes being closed to turn and face him, 
her hands seeking out the erect tissue of his nipples and gently 
tweaking them.  The sudden eroticism opened his eyes, as his head 
sprung upright.

"Kathryn ... what..." he barely sputtered.

"Mmmm... " she purred.  "I think you may have awakened a sleeping
monster."

"Well, it's obvious that you are very much awake right now.  What
happened to that Starfleet captain who was so tired a little while
ago?"

"Let's just say that she has discovered a new kind of fuel.  Why,
Chakotay ... you might even be better than coffee!"

He let out a fake groan.  "Oh, no!  And how many cups of coffee do
have each day?  Five ... six cups?  I may be good"... he winked at 
her... "but I don't think even Tom Paris could live up to those 
needs!"

She took his hand, leading him into his sleeping area.  "Let's see ...
there are two cups with breakfast ... another one in mid-morning... a
pick-me-up cup at around 4 o'clock... two if it's a really bad day ...
one with dinner, and usually one before bed.  What do you say,
Commander?  Do you think you could wean me from my caffeine 
addiction?"

They reached his bed.  He laid down on its broad surface, quickly
pulling her down on top of him.  "Cold turkey?  I don't think so.  But
... maybe we could replace a couple of them. Any more and you wouldn't
have me in any shape for bridge duty!"

"Ah, my own little cabin boy then!  Yes, I think I could learn to like
that."  She began to absentmindedly play with his thick hair, now
somewhat tousled and ruffled.  She brushed the front strands down onto
his forehead, forming a dark bordered helmet on his high forehead.

"Chakotay, why do you always wear your hair brushed back?  I really
like it like this," she commented, rolling over onto her side.

"Why did you cut yours?" he retorted.  "I liked yours long."

"You never said that before," she answered.

"You never asked," he smirked back, now rolling onto his side and
facing
her.

"I think we might be reaching a new level in our communications," he
smiled.

"Oh ... is that what you call what we just did?" she queried.

A laugh preceded his response.  "Maybe we have it backwards.  There is
an old term for conversation ... it sometimes was called *social
intercourse*."

"Well, ours was certainly social," she grinned. "And ... speaking
about
social... I think I need another cup of coffee..."

"Really?" he said.  "Fresh or replicated?"  His hands were already
stroking the soft undersides of her arms.

"As fresh as you can make it," she answered, her hands finding an
occupation of their own, stroking his long back.

He pulled her toward him, his mouth eagerly searching for hers.  No
longer was there any hesitancy in her response, as she welcomed the
sweetness of his mouth.  Hungry for more of his touch, she ran her
fingernails up and down his back, wanting to ignite the fire within
him.  He received her message with the clarity of any command she had
uttered, and he broke their embrace long enough to roll her onto her
back on the bed.  His mouth continued its anointing kisses, slowly
around her shoulders and arms.  Their intensity grew as he progressed
down her body, now interspersed with frisky flicks of his tongue and
naughty nips with his teeth.  Her skin had become a keyboard upon
which he was playing a lively melody.  His fingers joined in with the
music, as they sought her lower lips, insinuating themselves into her
waiting chamber.

Not to be outplayed by her new lover, Kathryn reached around him,
finding the long narrow opening between his legs. Her smaller fingers
found the area just behind his tight testicles, and she pressed with
increasing pressure against the sensitive gland there.  As she herself
came closer and closer to yet another sexual explosion, she was
bringing him to his peak also.  The once-flaccid flesh between them
had rapidly hardened into a throbbing pillar. Their mutual teasing and
pleasing was reaching its crescendo.

He pulled back, only to quickly straddle her thighs and enter her.
With the support of the bed this time, his thrusts were sure and hard
and measured. Deeper and deeper he delved, filling her with a
long-denied satisfaction. Her body rose to meet his movements, but in
a staccato rhythm, its offset beat creating a further friction for
them. Her cry came first, as the rivulets of sensation flooded through
her, pulsing their ebbs against his thrusting member. He came to the
brink, and he cascaded over the edge, with one massive release,
followed by several slower, lighter tremors.

Suddenly, all was still. They laid back, their bodies exerted; their
spirits exulted. Two pairs of glazed eyes met as a faint smile crept
across his face.

"Kathryn, for the very last time... why the hell did we wait this
long?"

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The End