The BLTS Archive- A Gentlemen's Agreement
The Enigmatic Big Miss Sunbeam (bigmisssunbeam49@yahoo.com)

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"I like your bugspray, Chancellor."

"Bug . . . spray?"

"Your cologne."

"Klingon warriors always perfume themselves," the reply came in that
measured Klingon way, "so, when we are killed in battle, our corpses
will continue to please our worthy opponents."

"I'll drink to that.  We could learn much from you all."

They walked along the corridor.  McCoy sure did feel mighty short next
to the majestic barbarism of Gorkon.  Still: life went on. All that
damn Romulan ale; he better find a john quick.

Ah, here we go.  "Um, excuse me for a moment, Chancellor."

"You humans must have extremely small organs of elimination."

McCoy was taken aback.  "Well, that's not necessarily so, Chancellor."

"Is that not why you humans so many elimination posts?   Klingons do
not share that need."

"I'll be."

And, of all things, Gorkon followed him into the head.  And was now
watching him make water.

These Klingons were real birds.

"This idn't no spectator sport, Chancellor."

"You are ashamed?  I see I have much to learn before we become
allies."  And, with lots of creaking leather, Gorkon hove over to him.
"See my organ.  It is much larger."  McCoy looked down. Hellfire, it
WAS huge.  No wonder these Klingons were so . . . "In Klingon
culture," Gorkon continued, "it is considered *utknidnalk* to have a
large organ.  An untranslatable concept, I imagine, since size would
not matter to a race with such tiny organs."

Damn.  And the swollen dark head of Gorkon's dick was pierced in three
different places by elaborately carved silver hoops. McCoy looked at
Gorkon's face; that byGod Klingon sumbitch was . . .

He smiled.  Then he laughed.  Gorkon's strange eyes crinkled too.

"I am mighty tiny, I suppose, by your big old Klingon standards.  But
it matters what you do with it too."

Gorkon's voice had a strange purring quality. "What do you do with
it?"

Damn.  What was this . . . critter proposing? McCoy hadn't been this
drunk since college.  "We please the girls, among other things."

"Just females.  Ah.  That makes sense.  Someone who was unused to
external genitalia would tend to critique your tiny size less
harshly."

Gorkon had one big number, McCoy would have to hand him that.  It was
hard to look away from it. They swayed towards each other.

"Or boys or whatever," McCoy murmured.

Gorkon looked down.  "What do you call yours?"

"Dick.  This is my dick." Now McCoy was getting hard too.

"Ah, I see that your organ of elimination is stiffening.  Why is that,
I wonder?"

"Because you're making me look at your big dick."

Their eyes met.  Gorkon was handling himself rather openly now.  It
was dark, big, the silver points glistening in the starlit head.
"McCoy, do you know what I am doing?"

"On earth you'd be jerking off."

"Is there a prejudice against jerking off?  On earth, I mean."

Hell of a question.  "Course not.  But when a man jerks off in front
of another man, it does have a specific meaning."

Gorkon's hand was still.  "What meaning?"

"It's generally an invitation to enter into the act of love."

"The act of love?"  Gorkon drew back.  "Ah, the beast with two backs."

McCoy had ceased to piss some time ago.  Now he was just standing
there with his puny yet extended cock in his hand.

Wonder what all that metal would feel like pushing his prostate?

He closed his eyes and shivered.  "I got to say the word that is true,
Chancellor.  Two men in a toilet often means the act of love is about
to take place.  And, in our culture, that means one of them is
probably getting ready to stick his big old dick up the other's ass."

"Can we do that?"

"I'm game if you are.  I mean, I'm no spring chicken, but . . ."

"No spring chicken?  Is that good or bad?"

"That's going to be your call, friend."

Gorkon looked at him curiously.  "You will need to partially disrobe."

McCoy quickly lowered his pants.  It'd been a long time since he'd
done anything like this. Boy Jesus, he was drunk, but being that naked
with somebody as impressive as old Gorkon was still pretty hot.

"We can use that soap right there to lube the way."

"Lube the way?"

"Yeah, that big thing would hurt my backdoor something bad if you
didn't grease it up."

"Bend over that water device," Gorkon whispered, indicating the sink.

McCoy clutched it and stuck his scrawny ready ass out as far as he
could.

He shivered as the soap was applied, and then with creaking leather
and gasps he felt Gorkon getting ready to enter him.  He pushed back
his hips back against Gorkon, who sighed, and then McCoy felt that big
head pushing into him.

Size sure did matter.  McCoy liked it big, and this old boy was the
biggest.  Pushing into him, making him feel mighty . . . oh hell oh
shit oh damn now he realized those hoops were rubbing back and forth
across that little old bump of a gland that made him feel like he was
imploding. It'd been a long time since anybody'd touched him there,
and now, it was happening again and again, too much really, and McCoy
began to come and because he was so drunk he kept coming.

And, as he stood there pinioned and barely conscious, he felt Gorkon's
big dick moving again and bending around stuff in there  that hadn't
been bent in a while and in general treating his asshole like it was
his personal playground.

McCoy sure did love asshole fucking.

"Judas Priest, Gorkon, you are one good fuck."

Oh, now Gorkon was gripping his hips and pulling his feet off the
floor and just moving into McCoy's ass as if it didn't even have a man
hooked on to it and McCoy's dick hadn't softened one little bit.
Gorkon knew how to grind it right into him; all that dick  jewelry was
reaming him right into another orgasm. Undamnreasonable was what it
was.

Suddenly Gorkon was still.  Still as death.  And a sound like the
start of a storm, a wailing wind, broke from the Klingon's throat and
McCoy felt Gorkon's fat black dick boiling against him and McCoy
relaxed and spent too, this time almost softly, almost tenderly.

He felt Gorkon remove his big softening penis; the jewelry made as
much exciting clatter being removed as it did going on.  Nice.  In his
mind's eye, McCoy could see that big thing just a-coming out of his
ass.  Jesus.  And he felt Gorkon dripping on him now, warm and slick.

"You're good."

"You mean I satisfied you?"

"Sure enough."

And Gorkon laughed a wild metallic laugh.  "And you are good too,
McCoy."

And pulling up his pants, McCoy let his slender body sway against the
armored hulk of Gorkon.

"McCoy, I had entertained hopes of this for some time.  Your
Shakespeare has taught us that you are a species both wanton and
refined.  A provocative combination.  We do not have such a melding in
our homeworld."

"You mean, your wife or your, er, mate  . . .?"

"Azetbur's dam was nobly slaughtered in an intertribal war, and  I
avenged her death gloriously.  But as you see, I am alive.  As are my
varied appetites."

McCoy gave him a look.  "This might could be the start of a beautiful
friendship."

"Agreed," said the pleasant Gorkon.  "Shall we not join the rest?"

"I am with you, sir," McCoy said, and they headed back to the dining
hall.

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The End