he BLTS Archive - Crocodile
sixth in the Riding The Tick series
by RSchultz (cousindream@aol.com)

---

Spoilers: Set in the period after Natasha Yar had graduated from a
school in Moskva. Due to her appalling lack of formal education, she
had had to successfully finish Pyotr Pervyi (Tsar Peter The Great)
Military School to be admitted to Starfleet Academy in San Francisco,
Terra. Lithuanian by Old Earth racial grouping, and raised in a
Russian Slavic district on Turkana IV, she adapted well to Moscow. Now
she awaits her first classes and the beginning of her career as a
Starfleet Cadet. Time period is years before her service on the
ENTERPRISE.

Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Paramount and ViaBorgCom. Resistance
is futile. I am not depriving you guys of any money, so don't sue.
This story is mine under common-law copyright. Apx. 15,500 words long.

Archiving: Written Jan. 2001 for the Femme Fuh-Q Fest. To be posted on
ASCEM. May be archived. Please notify.

Beta work provided by the ever-gracious T'Lin.

Warning! This story depicts consensual sex between (fictional) adult
women, consensual sex between man and woman, and bad language. If the
concept bothers you, please go elsewhere. If the following TrekSmut is
illegal in your country or locale, please go away. No underage people
should be here. Go read a G story somewhere else. Now.

---

Yes, the hat was definitely the finishing touch. The piece
d'resistance. Black leather military style cap with a shiny bill.
Silver cord across the top. Definitely the coup de grace to a
murderous outfit.

I hoped it wouldn't appear out of place here in San Francisco. It
really laid low the little plump metronfanuschka's in Moskva. Moskva
yest djarko! Oh my, yes, Moscow was hot! But that was then and here
was now.

Still, the effect was HOT! Black leather miniskirt, black silk men's
shirt, and a black leather version of a lifter's coat. Just like I
used to wear in the Legion, only this one had silver zippers on every
pocket and sleeve, black epaulets with silver trim and silver bind
tabs down the front. Oh, the leather was ssoooo soft and supple!
Murderous image, yes, slay all the girls. Propezdoloch!

There was a broad shining belt with a big golden Nevela 250-Bak piece
as the buckle. On my legs and ass I had opera skein tights and a black
pair of lace panties with silver trim and lace on them. Every time I
moved I knew some of that lace was showing. Still...I was unsure. I
had had Turkana down pat. Moskva, matkaya rossiyasa, was a dream. But
for a dyke, San Francisco was the big time. No more road shows.

My confidence grew as I left the restaurant dumper and made my way
across Market Street. Two gals tried to move close on me in the
restaurant, and two more on my way across to Twin Peaks. I got long
looks from three Chops, Orientals, leaving as I entered. I could hear
the music in "Twin Peaks" before I had finished crossing the street.

Inside it was a combination of the familiar and the unique. Half the
people in it were dancing and it wasn't slow either. I stood there for
minutes, adjusting to the dimness and noise and the way I knew I was
growing hot and wet in my groin. All those women, and I've never met a
single one of them before.

Hundreds of women there, dancing, drinking, talking, meeting
strangers. Touching, caressing, licking, kissing. Even the Keyboarder
in the bend was playing and kissing a half-clad older woman at the
same time. This was where the action was!

A few of the dance moves were confusing until I understood it was just
a variant on moves I'd already memorized in matkaya rossiyasa. The
problem was, who did I want to make a move on? The lizards at the bar
were over there, the dancers were here, and I wanted a dancer. There
was one big problem....what's the meeting protocols? Do I just cut in?
Pick someone at random? Who, what, what type do I pick?

I felt like a child locked in a chocolate factory. Do I close my eyes
and put my hand out at random?.

I was saved by a Bajoran, I recognized the nose ridges. Taller than
me. Thin frame, black hair. She was cute, she had an edginess to her,
and she was trying hard to be confident. Really cute. Walked easy,
hiding behind nonchalance. Interesting.

She wandered over and asked me to dance. We had to work into the steps
at first, but in seconds it was as if we'd been together for years. We
went faster and faster, trusting now for each other not to kick the
other by accident. Move, curl, kick, move, kick, move, kick, curl,
kick....... Oh God, I loved dancing! It surrounded me and ate me and
WAS me. Oh my, so so so...

Kick, move, twist, move, kick, move, twist.... She slid up to me and
said she'd always enjoyed breaking in the new girls. I'll bet. Don't
know how she spotted me for a new girl here. She also never said a
thing about my outfit, but by the teeth showing in her smile, both me
and my wrapping paper stood her test of approval.

Next dance, slower, more irregular, we stood to one side and we went
through the steps first. Practicing, matching ourselves to the other's
patterns. I'd always liked patterns. Truth. Revelations.
Understanding. All by holding on to each other.

She felt good under my arm. Tall, lanky, strong, soft, I felt the give
of hip as we circled and re- circled in our own little dance floor.
The dark hair intrigued me. She stared at me as I ran one hand through
her hair. She liked the attention, the unsaid compliment.

The dance steps were complex, but they were limited in variation, and
conformed to the mesmerizing beat of the live band. Bad music, but
enthusiastic.

There was a pause, and she introduced herself as Laren, but I could
call her Raven. I didn't much like any birds, but this one could be
made an exception. The music was too loud, but so long as she kept
fondling and caressing my too-fat ass, I didn't much give a damn how
loud it was. Five more girls joined us, making us into a dance line.
The coordination was ragged at times, but it was colossal fun. We all
kept playing switch-and-switch-again as we danced. Caressing,
touching, spiking as we enjoyed and fantasized. The fifth dance went
slower, and then there was the time for pairings to take place. I
swung immediately to the girl who called herself a bird. The hell with
the nightmares I'd been having. Some birds I could like.

My dancing partner was brittle, and I was unaccustomed. Maybe
Laren/Raven could turn mean, but then so could I. Fire. Mix fire with
fire and what do you get?

The Bajoran in her tight gray catsuit tried to flow all over me like a
coat of color, but a few abrupt motions by me were sufficient to make
her back off. Then I opened my arms to her, and she flowed right back.
I'd just become the Boss Dyke, the Crocodile of the two of us. It was
so simple. Still, Raven WAS a dom, a top, a Crocodile, herself. This
could be exciting or it could turn nasty.

She must want me really bad, because she'd just let me assume control
of what we might have tonight. That was good. Because every time she
moved the more I wanted to touch and hold and whisper and kiss. I
hoped she was a good kisser. But it wasn't essential. Not the way her
touches left fire trails on me, in me.

The interesting part was when we were dancing round and round, and the
Bajoran was working her way south with her hands on my back. She had a
nice smile, but I had a thought that she didn't use it that much. She
really should. Pretty soon we were dancing breast to breast and I was
making nibblings on the mouth.

There had been an average sort of gal, much older than either one of
us, she had been in our line. Now she was working herself up to
cutting in on us. My new date noticed, but ignored her. I smiled
inside, wondering which one of us she was going to try to cut loose
for herself.

"Do you two gorgeous bitches mind if I join you for this dance?"

Considering the noise level in here, Laren had to shout her reply.

"Which one of us do you think is gorgeous and which the bitch?"

The new gal was shorter than either one of us, so we had to bend to
kiss her. It had been a long time since I'd played threefer. Tonight
felt like a night to try out new and exciting things. Leah, that was
her name, she fit between us. Starting a threefer was acceptable to
her. Raven didn't much like the idea, but she was getting that cloudy
look in her eyes whenever she looked at me. After that we played
sandwich.

Each one of us would take turns being the one in the middle, and the
one in the middle would be the one getting the hands of the other two.
It was a game that I'd never played much. Threesomes are unbalanced,
there's one more lover than you can handle at the same time, and then
there's the dawn. From my limited experience with them, they usually
end with bad feelings, bad words, tears or shouts. Maybe it was
different in San Francisco. I hoped so. Because us gorgeous bitches
wanted to play. Or I did, at any rate.

The most fun was timing the faster dances so we could work in unison.
We'd practice apart, eyeing the other's pattern, then blend into a
sandwich again. The short brunette had a really great rear on her, and
I would lower myself to rub my belly on it. When I could. For her part
she loved to reach behind, touch my hips. Then she could get the
touching, AND coordinate her movements to mine easier. At the same
time my new Bajoran date was rubbing herself on MY butt and enjoying
making my nipples spike with her handy attentions. Each were good
dancers. Oh, this was going to be an interesting night!

I think I now had more dates than I had actually wished for when I
came in here. But they were both, in my humble opinion, gorgeous
bitches. Okay, maybe Leah was a bit plain in the face and body. Laren,
the one asking to be called Raven, she was tall and lean.

On a more personal level, the way neither one could keep their hands
off of me was a lot more important than Leah's mole on her lip or
Raven's thin bust. I liked all kinds of siski, tits, they all fit my
mouth perfectly. Raven had a mole too. Interesting. Let someone else
worry about relative merits or appearances. I kept inhaling hot
spiciness off the one's hair and cool fruits off the other's.

Oh, Twin Peaks was going to be a favorite stop of mine in the future
even if it was a hell of a BART ride out here from the Academy.

We felt close enough to being a threefer now, that we could pause for
a much needed break. We bought our own drinks at the bar and elbowed
ourselves a space at the walls. We got serious there, real serious. Us
three gorgeous bitches. Us three Crocodiles. We were all dom's and the
interface as we kissed was totally murderous!

Raven was hot, and if my Bajoran wished to be called after a damned
loud bossy bird, well, so be it. First she licked my chin and cheek,
then she kissed Leah. Abruptly she was crouching spread-legged against
Leah and rose, giving the shorter woman the benefit of a full body
rub. I felt my throat catch just to see it. Raven wasn't wearing a
bra, and her nipples became magnificent in her excitement.
Outstanding!

Then she finished her tequila without pause. No salt on the hand for
this girl. I slugged my Finish vodka back, but Leah didn't bother
taking more than a sip of her red wine. Then the glasses went on a
nearby table and we got to doing some serious enjoying.

I had the Bajoran crowded, and her hands were making fire-trails up
and down my butt and back until she brought one hand in front of me.
She lifted my mini and began stroking my groin. No, with this one the
word was pussy....until I literally purred into her face.

    "Meow, meow, pussycat/Such a loving girl

    Do you wanna lick my fur/And make me purr?"

Leah was rubbing herself on Raven's hip as she palmed Raven's mound
through the cat suit. She looked up at me, inviting. So I edged closer
to the pair, moving us so Leah was the one against the wall. Raven and
I looked at each other in agreement, then we leered as we went to
work.

We loosened Leah's belt, then hit the top binds on her pants. She held
us, we held up her pants with one hand, and we both worked her groin
through her soft unders. I thought she'd be a simple white pair type
of a girl, and I opened her up enough to see the flash of white cloth.
I was right. She was humping our hands when we deliberately stopped
and put her clothes back together, leaving her all trim and proper.

This time it was my turn, and they both crowded me into the wall. Then
their hands were all over me, especially under my mini.

We'd picked up an audience of sorts, a few couples on each side of us,
all just exactly like the little plump darling's I'd been dating in
Moscow.

Smiling, a little bit shy about watching our display. Red in the face
or neck to see us getting it on in public. It made my skin all sparks
and heat to see them watching me get fondled out in the open. My eyes
closed as Raven kissed me, her hands busy on my face, my breasts, my
neck, my back.

Leah was busy lower down, and she didn't give a damn if anyone
watched. She eased my panties down to my ankles. I stepped out of
them, kicking them into the air with my little black half-boots. Leah
snagged them out of the air and brought her prize to her face as she
rose back up. Caressing my sex through my tights as she went.

Her lips were busy on my throat, then my lips. My black-haired Bajoran
had her hand down my tights, massaging my soft and sensitive mound
with all the sweet and frenzied devotion only one dyke can give
another. I hoped she could use her mouth as well as she could her
hands. Good kissers, like Laren was, don't always know how to eat a
gal out.

Leah offered a sniff of my panties to Raven, and Raven licked the
crotch while I watched. On the other hand, in my experience, most
dykes who could kiss good also knew how to make a girl sit up and beg.
I could hardly wait to feel her mouth in me.

Then Leah was stuffing my silver-trimmed unders into an inside pocket
of her suit jacket, smiling big. Raven, such a doll, she concentrated
on poking her tongue in my mouth. Genteel. Only so much as I allowed,
which was quite a lot. I bent slightly so Leah could carefully probe
me as well. Her hand said she liked to massage my tender curly hairs
and clit. Us three gorgeous bitches, and I knew this was going to be a
prime night.

Laren probed my lips again, allowing me to set the pace if I wished,
which I did by forcing my tongue slowly into her lovely mouth. I liked
that in a woman, restraint in kissing, I mean. I can't abide the ones
who try to clean your tonsils whether you're ready for that or not.

Laren - oh hell, she wants me to use the Raven name, I might as well.
Raven kissed me some more. Both of my new bitches with their
delightfully busy hands were taking turns proving I was wet for this.

Leah interrupted our loving by saying we should move on. "My husband
is gone this week, what do you say we bring the three of us to my
place? We could even dance some more if you want." It's impossible to
whisper intimately in a place like the "Twin Peaks", you've got to
yell. Leah didn't quite do that, but Laren and I could understand her
invitation.

More loudly; "I've a nice big bed there. Big enough I think for the
three of us. Unless you've a better idea? I've done my share of
screwing around in the ladies dumper, thank you, and I prefer all the
cleanliness and comforts of home." She was right. I'd had my share of
sex standing upright in some ladies dumper stall and rocking to
someone else's feverish hand. Beds were better.

Leah got a really big grin as I rubbed her groin with my knuckles
again. We weren't talking love here, not Laren, not Leah and certainly
not me. We were talking lots of hot empty meaningless sex. Yeah.
That's an affirmative, as we said in the Legion.

"Home is also where the toys are, if you're into that sort of thing.
If you don't care to play with them, how about me? I'm playful. I've
even got a few places where you can turn me on."

How could either Raven or I turn down a sweet invitation like that?

Leah had her own flitter, and it was sleekly golden, shining in the
light nighttime drizzle. Raven and I followed her down Market for a
block. Trying not to stagger under the heat of what their hands were
doing to my groin, and the unbalancing act we three were performing by
fondling each other as we walked.

"Before we get arrested by some male police ..." Leah began, giggling
when I licked her where the fingers joined her palm.

"We call them razzers on Turkana," I offered, then giggled when my
Bajoran switched her attentions from my front to my rear.

"Before we get arrested, let's get inside, Ladies. Please?"

I negligently waved approval and slid out of Laren's hands to go to
the passenger's side to let myself in. I was the Crocodile, right?
They did what I said. At least that was the theory.

In reality I knew they were allowing me the pretense, but Leah and
Laren were setting the pace. Like it mattered one hot damn. So long as
either or both of these gals gave me a night to remember, I'd pretend
that I was the one in charge and they could pretend they were letting
me control things.

Especially Leah, really. She was a soft butch who had got her own way
throughout much of her life. Her clothes were subdued, tasteful and
expensive. She had that cocky arrogance some people get who have never
had to fight for command. That much I could tell, real easy. If she
wanted to she could probably be the Crocodile tonight.

Raven was behind me as Leah programmed the flitter, her Bajoran hands
busy on my breasts. Oh yes! I could love both these girls. Busy hands,
busy lips, liking what they were doing. Pushy, wanting to get to the
sex part of this night's games. But, by Jehowa, they WERE waiting for
me to say yea or nay to each thing they were doing to me. Treating me
tentatively. Not treating me like a Crocodile, exactly. But allowing
me to authorize the pace and the actions. I was the one who could say
we do this or we do that. Mostly.

I piss either one off, we'll see how much respect I get.

The flitter started up while Leah was still punching the programming,
giving control to SFNav. The City mainframe over in the western Sunset
district would get the flitter home. Safely, slowly, and inevitably.
There were three small lurches and the flitter swung up and left, then
steadied.

"My place is in Richmond, so it'll be a short flight," Leah said.
Immediately she turned to me for a nice open-mouthed kiss. She was
restrained also. Waited for my tongue to probe her before she replied.
Her hand was totally unrestrained. She trailed her hand on my belly,
and scooted down my belly, her hand already in my fishnet tights.
Raven leaned forward to watch me get groped, stepping up her fondling
of my breasts. I was regretting wearing a bra. Not that it slowed
things down much.

I made them stop, though I would have absolutely loved to have come on
Leah's and Raven's hands. They backed off, though a lot of little 'shy
girl' kissing continued.

We started by taking off Leah's suit coat, then unbuttoning her blouse
down to her belt line. The minute her chest was open to view she
leaned back to let us have her any way we wished. She did, however
give us a word of caution.

"We're going to have to cross some open space to enter my house, so
let's control our desires to strip each other naked, okay? With that
word said, where were we?" I licked the tops of her breasts where they
poked over her bra, then began chewing on her nipples, right through
the satiny memory-cloth.

Then I leaned back in my seat, and told Raven I could use some more
attention. Leah was disturbed at being abruptly left to her own
devices. She was groping herself, her hand busy in her pants, accusing
me with her eyes. But I was giving her my guaranteed
you-don't-want-to- screw-with-THIS-Crocodile look. She swallowed, and
accepted again that I'd set the pace. By that time I was kissing Raven
again. I didn't see Leah re-button her blouse, but she even had her
suit coat back on by the time I looked again.

I tilted Leah's head up for some nice kissing and licking, rewarding
her for being a good girl. You don't give any carrot, you better be
sparing in using the stick.

The time left us before reaching Leah's place was filled with Raven
burrowing into the corner of my neck and shoulder. And with me raising
a foot on the seat so that Leah could fondle me more easily. The
tights felt really good, being rubbed into my sopping sex like that.
This seat would smell like hot woman tomorrow.

Then we were at Leah's place. She took control and fine-directed the
flitter the last few meters to where it could coast down. Doors sprang
up and we all exited. Leah had a three-level place, with the basement
opening out onto a patio, and we both knew she -- they, had some Creds
to spend.

Once inside I crowded Leah, rubbing my body on her, forcing her to a
wall, and Raven started stripping her, right there in the foyer. She
would have objected, but I never let my mouth leave hers. When she
started helping, I let up to kiss Raven. From the way Raven was
enjoying my breasts once she got my jacket off, it was obvious what
was one of the nice things she was going to do for us. Raven did have
small breasts, but it seemed hers were one of the type blessed with
very large nipples to compensate. We both spent minutes making Raven
weak, relishing the chewy hardness of her now large aureole and
nipples. Like small fingers her nipples were. Created for a woman's
mouth and teeth.

"Ladies," I breathed, "someone here mentioned something about a large
bed, not so long ago. What say we find out if our host and fellow
gorgeous bitch was telling us the truth?"

It was a good bed, no, a superior bed. I knew it was morning, there
were shadows and gray light on the walls. Still, when Leah rolled off,
sleep shouldn't have left me. Maybe it was her leaving the bedroom
that finally woke me. That left me alone with Laren. Or Raven, as she
still wished to be called. Certainly her hair was dark enough for the
name. It was fun rolling over under the covers and finding myself
belly to butt with the lean one of my lovers. It was always such a
pleasure exploring a new girlfriend.

She came awake as I circled my fingernails on her hip and arm and
thigh. Rubbed her soft butt back into me. Made nice noises as I
caressed her neck and her nipples. I had been right last night. She
had a sweet and loving mouth, and enjoyed suckling breasts. But biting
worse than any child might. Bitch! Sweet bitch...

I purred into her neck, still circling with my fingertips. On her
belly now, then underneath her small breasts, moving, lifting them,
rubbing those stupendous nipples, gentling them. Then she made to turn
over, to face me.

"Not till I tell you to," I whispered. She leaned her back against my
nipples, shivering in the morning cool. And maybe something else. I
really adored the way her nipples got soooo big and large so fast!
Aureole's and all. And so much harder than mine ever got. Maybe more
excited. Could she...?

One arm was forced around Raven, under her. I pulled her to me,
letting both my hands work both her breasts, both her nipples. It took
quite a while for Raven to understand what I was doing. I was going to
make love to her stiff-nippled breasts, we were going to see if she
could have her come that way. Experimenting. Some experiments are more
fun than others.

"Daddy will take care of you, doll, I'll take care of you. Relax, lean
back and enjoy yourself. You like my hands on your tits, don't you?
You'll like them more and more as time goes on, trust me, Daddy will
make sure her baby comes, make sure you come good.

"No, don't touch yourself, not yet, not till I tell you to, just lean
back. That's real good, isn't it? It's just spreading all over your
chest, isn't it? The good heat, the pain and sparks of your skin going
into meltdown. You like what I'm doing to those lovely lovely lovely
little breasts of yours, don't you? Has anyone ever told you what
stupendous nipples you have? They look so delicious, they get so
stiff. Just to look at them is to want to suck on them."

All the time I'm working her breasts from behind, fingers pinching,
mauling, caressing, rubbing, feeling her nipples - maybe - grow ever
harder as I loved them with my fingers and hands. Whathell were the
spices she had in her hair? I could spend a night breathing in her
scent, my face in her hair, my fingers idly caressing her throat. Such
a long pliable neck. She arched it when I licked her spine with my
tongue. Again and again.

"Raven, baby, you like that, don't you? You like hands on your
breasts, you like my hands on your breasts, don't you? Do you want
your Daddy to keep doing it? Then show it, baby, tell me about it,
make me know how good it is for you."

She writhed against me, her hips making tucking motions as it got
better. Babbling about how she would die if I stopped before she came.
Oh, this was one of the times being the Crocodile meant the rushing
power and love made every atom tingle in me. I loved the way women's
voices became ragged and strained when I made love to them. I loved
the slick of their sexsweat, the jerking as their bodies danced for
me. The wetness of their groins and the way they milked me as fingers
and hand entered them. I loved the scent of woman. The touch.

"Please, please," she begged, as her own body created a larger and
larger short-circuit in her belly, a place where the heat and quivers
kept building and building. "Please, please, let me come, oh, by the
Prophets, oh, pleasepleaseplease..."

Raven was jerking now, clawing at her belly, increasingly desperate to
do something to bring herself over the edge, for me to make her come.
How hard her small breasts became, how large, how hot in my hands! I
was doing nothing now but pinching those large nipples between finger
and thumb.

I let one hand fall away from her breasts, talking into her soft long
neck. "Here, give me your hand, yes, now you make love to your breast,
yes, it's okay, you can do whatever you want to now, make your breasts
do it now, yes, yes, pinch them, doll, pinch it hard, roll it hard,
squeeze until you can't stand it any more!"

Then my hand rubbed down her chest and belly. Feeling her belly
button. Tracing the lean swell of her abdomen until I found the divine
wild growth of a Bajoran woman's body hair. I rubbed it, chaffed it,
pressed on it, started making circular motions with the palm of my
hand. Against her clit, her sex. Not entering her. Running the edge of
my palm up and down her blossoming lips.

One leg lifted into the air as she opened up to me, her hips twitching
in circular motions as she fed herself to my rubbing circling palm.

When she came it was not all at once, but in building spasms, building
groaning cries, building motions. She kept building after every spasm,
building for the next, building for me.

"Yes, yes, yes, do it, baby. Just remember, doll, you're doing it for
me, you're doing it for Daddy. Now, come good for Daddy, come real
good for me. Keep coming, oh, you're such a lover, you just can't stop
coming can you?"

Eventually she had to stop. The engine ran out of fuel. She was
exhausted, and I was happy. She hadn't come through her breasts alone,
but it had been close. I felt good to have given that to her, her
pleasure. It had been so slow in coming, it had been more than good.
She was still groaning and twitching against me, her back and butt
lightly sweaty now. She felt so good lying back against me. Spent.
Loving.

When she tried to turn this time I let her, and we kissed lightly, her
passions lost for the moment, and mine could wait. I thought to myself
that if Leah chases us out of here today, Raven and I can continue our
fun through the rest of the day. I still don't know where either one
works, or where Laren lives. But they were both first class lovers.
Both skilled, each a burning fabric of barely controlled emotions.
We'd do this again. Yes.

The three of us. We complimented each other too well. Maybe this
threesome wouldn't end in crying and recriminations. If not, well,
I'll ride the Tiger until she throws me off.

The shower was almost as refreshing as the sex. What had happened
under the sprays of water had been foreordained the moment I welcomed
Raven into my shower stall. Marvelous. Sex in showers is always such
fun when you can overcome the distraction created by the water. It
helped that Raven had been so dedicated to my coming.

Also intent on rubbing herself against my back while searching me with
her lovely long hands. Payback's can be such fun.

I had recovered from our little water playlet, managing to feel clean
and satisfied at the same time. Now Raven and I toweled each other
off, giggles happy in the air. I admired her body in the clean light
of morning. I adored the smooth flat belly, her skill with her hands,
the feel of her hair, the taste of her sex.

I'd also liked her aggression in the shower. Made me feel very wanted.
Her fingers had quieted my lusts, for a while. It had been poetic the
way she masturbated me from behind. Two can play at that controlling
game, she was reminding me. So be it. She made me giggle, she loved to
touch. Touching her, caressing her skin, licking her arm, made me know
how easy it would be to guide her back to bed. Make us sweaty again,
groaning, biting, hot, on fire. We were both groaners.

Leah was a yipper. Leah's breasts were the largest of our present
trio. Clean, soft, quivering at her every breath. So what if age and
nature had conspired to lower them? We both loved sucking on them.

Leah REALLY liked our sex hair. Which was great. She really seemed to
have a passion for using her mouth on a woman, too. Leah had strong
graceful hands. Raven had long elegant ones. Made for loving. I
couldn't help but grow warm when looking on her beautiful long
graceful hands. Wondering when they were going to be inside me. So
strong, her hands, so lovely.

Raven seemed shy whenever I caressed her nose ridges, but I found them
fascinating. She said most of the people in her province had the
second little bony 'V' set above her nose as well. I hadn't remembered
seeing them on the few other Bajorans I'd met. It was lovely that she
allowed me to lick her ridges of bone. I thought them delightful.

Nearly as much fun as I had found her faint semi-circles in her groin.
Darker dots, three arcing rows of them. Seeming to make her clit the
bulls-eye of a target of love. Hers were sensitive to the touch as
well. My - two? three? - other Bajoran women had been the same way. An
erogenous zone composed of dots across her dark groin hair.

So fascinating. Something that naturally drew attention to that center
of her. She was so delicious in so many meanings of the word. She was
so shy, now that we were lovers. Still thinking I - we - might find
her too skinny, unworthy. The brashness and the arrogance was part of
her armor. She was a little girl right now, enjoying touching and sex
and loving. Needing approval.

We found most of my clothes downstairs, or on the stairway. Raven
settled for slipping back into her cat suit. I wanted to use Leah's
replicator to clean my clothes, but it'd be polite to ask first. The
same thought had occurred to both of us. Leah might decide one night
of love, sex, lust, had been enough. The smell of cooking food
encouraged me, until I thought it might be a going-away present.

Leah was making at least some of our breakfast herself. And most of it
was a novelty to us.

"The tubular things are folded pancakes with a jelly in them," Leah
explained. "The shredded brownish things are hash browns, fried
potato's with seed onions, and this is Tarq heart with vegetables. The
Klingons eat it raw, but it's lovely cooked, though a tad high and
wild in taste. I pre-cook it, bake it, then steam it with the
vegetables until it gets soft again." It looked good and smelled
better.

Leah was dressed in a long demure teal skirt and cream blouse, with an
apron over it. Such a lady she looked. As if she were ready to welcome
company. She smelled good, there must be a shower downstairs. Her hair
had the fruity shampoo scent again. And if memory served me correctly,
Leah tasted better than any food she might have prepared. In my humble
opinion. A quiet smile chased itself across her face as she reacted to
my touchings.

So innocent appearing, so respectable. So loving, so hot and
insatiable last night. She had ... what? More. More than I had. Like a
phaser set to explode, she was.

Raven rose to stand alongside her, smiling at me. Leah let herself be
partially turned so they could kiss. Leah's eyes were closed, and her
tongue-tip appeared when Raven licked her way down Leah's throat. Then
Leah wriggled out of her grasp, retreating part way around the table.

"Food now," she said. "Breakfast. Eat something nutritious. After that
you can eat me." Sly grin at us both. Promise. Hope. "As a matter of
fact, I'll consider it a contract." At least we weren't going to be
kicked out for some time yet.

It had been raining lightly earlier, but the sun was out now. It was a
lovely view out her patio. The Academy downhill of us, the rebuilt red
bridge dominating the entrance to the bay. The ocean visible to my
left, nothing large to obstruct my enjoying the sweep of individual
houses climbing Pacific Heights. Sukin syn, it was a nice place.

I staggered only a little as I moved to the open patio doors. Enjoying
the coolness on my sweaty skin. My nipples were so tender the breeze
made them spike stiffly. Behind me Raven was still groaning lightly.
After shaking my head to clear it, I turned and found Leah there. We
kissed, enjoying the feel of her body against mine.

"Let's stay outside, I've a few blanketed air mattress we can lie down
on. They're soft and warm."

There was a screen of low bushes around the paved patio. When lying
down, we were invisible. Not just to Leah's immediate neighbors, but
to all of this portion of San Francisco. Buildings could be seen to
the right, in Pacific Heights, but they were thousands of meters away.
Leah tied three of the soft air mattresses together, and brought more
blankets from inside. There must have been five blankets on that stand
in the corner next to the door. Why did I get the feeling Leah liked
her sex outdoors?

As we kissed, underneath our warmth, we idly fondled each other's
groins and breasts. No passions. Just -- friends.

When Raven recovered, and discovered us, she came outside and tunneled
under our blankets and lay between the two of us. We all went to
sleep, the sun on our heads, the scent and feel of naked female
comforting me.

I awoke when Leah rolled me onto my back. The blanket was to one side.
I giggled when they both exposed me, taking turns running their hands
through my darker thatch of groin hair. Leah laid down in front of me,
cooing.

"Just look at her," Leah smiled. "Hasn't she got a beautiful pussy?
Such soft hair, such a soft mound, so pliable. Just look at it. I've
barely touched her and already her lips, they're growing large and red
and inflamed. Ah, I put just one little finger inside her and she's
trying to milk it! Two, and I can feel her pulse, she has a rhythm of
her own, this is a woman crying for love." With that Leah began to
lick my groin, biting my clit lightly.

"Oh, she smells so beautiful, just smell her, Raven, my dear. There,
yes, get down there...

"Aren't I right? To smell her is to want to lick her, to kiss her, to
taste this sweet ... That's right, dear, you get her ready. Just keep
doing that. Yes, definitely, look up at her face. She enjoys what
you're doing... Listen, I'll be right back, you just keep doing that.
Make her purr like a kitten." The plus side of threesomes is that
you've an extra mouth or set of hands to help you do your lover.

By this time I was humping my hips into Raven's loving warm woman's
face. She'd look up at me periodically, but most of the time she was
lost into herself as she worshiped me with her tongue, her caressing
mouth. I wanted to maul my breasts, but they were beginning to feel
tender, so I had to be careful.

It was getting better and better as the mainspring wound tighter and
tighter in my groin. My skin was growing hot again, especially in my
throat and chest.

Oh yesyesyesyesyesyes, this was a woman who liked to use her mouth on
her lovers. Her hands suggested to my legs, and I raised them so she
could use her loving mouth on other parts of me. Such a loving tongue,
such a sweet pair of lips, oh yes, lick me there, lick me there. Make
me build, make me grow hotter and hotter, let your gentle insistent
tongue find all of my love spots.

"Yes, yes, dear lover, oh yes, lick me there. Please, more, it feels
so beautiful when you put your tongue there. Oh God, Laren, I love
you, I love you!" I was rubbing my mound furiously as she continued to
love me, it kept getting better and better. "I love you, I love you,
please don't stop...." My palm kept massaging my clit until I couldn't
quite see.

Then she stopped.

The shock rippled through me a half dozen times, prompting me to beg.
To curse. To whine. To demand. To whimper.

Leah was beside me, holding me, shushing me, comforting me, telling me
it was okay. Laren would take care of me. She loved me, and so did
Laren, they'll take care of me. "Look," she said.

The black-haired Bajoran knelt in front of me, smiling at me, loving
me, tense with what she was doing.

Raven had already covered her right hand with the gray coloration of a
protective sheath. Slickening it, making it gleam in the bright late
afternoon sun. Then she sprayed a new layer of shining lightness on
her covered hand. Lubricant ran down her wrist and arm off her elbow.
Seemingly turning her hand into a solid liquid. On this patio, her
hand had become the most erotic symbol possible.

My knees were already in the air when her first touch brought a grunt
from me. Then coldness, rapidly disappearing, as she sprayed my sex
with a slick layer of more lubricant.

The second touch brought my ankles into the air, and the third made my
eyes shut and my hips begin a sexual rhythm. Caressings of my clit.
Teasings, graspings, caresses of my petals and vagina, a growing of
heat, of wet, and then Raven ...

Two fingers, Twisting, searching, pushing, withdrawings, entering
again and again. The third finger ...

Opened me, made me give way. I felt my ring muscles clasp the
intruders, squeeze down time and time and time again as Raven's long
tapering fingers worked me hotter and hotter. Oh, she was entering me
so easy on the slick glory of lust and lube. Then she paused, and I
knew four fingers were in me.

The knuckles kept urging me to open, her knuckles kept telling me I
was to tight, it was never going to work today, I wouldn't be able to
open up enough, stars danced in the edges of my vision, Leah kept
kissing me, whispering words to me I didn't understand. I forced her
hands from my breasts, eating the pain as I very gently worked and
rubbed my nipples and breasts as ...

The thumb was trying to enter me alongside the four fingers. Raven
worked me, she was saying words of love at me, petting my thighs and
belly, fondling my sex, rubbing my clit with her other thumb. Circling
and circling with pressure and insistence as her hand tried again and
again to get past the barrier of my sexmouth muscles and fill me until
I burst. In, out, in, out, twisting, rubbing, twisting

and she was sliding inside me.

My muscles cramped as the knuckles went within, my circles of muscle
closing down on her long slender wrist as her hand went deeper inside
and I came.

Raven did not stop her movements inside me, not for an instant she was
beginning to move her hand more freely. I was loosening, she was able
to move faster, deeper, when she pulled back I could feel my muscles
try to give way, I tried to relax, her hand was twisting around and
back and I could feel the strength in her arm as her hand moved back
and forth inside me and it wasn't very fast, but my soft sex was being
pulled out and pushed in and

I was still coming, or I was coming again.

The panting and moaning was me, the fire was in my belly, which Leah
kept kissing and licking and caressing as I rubbed harder and harder
on my breasts and the tickling fire was building higher and higher and
her hand was smicking louder and louder inside me, with spells of her
twisting her hand inside me, counter-clockwise, clock-wise, in and
almost out and I couldn't couldn't stop coming

and

crying

I was on my side, one leg quivering in the air, crying, cursing

coming

when I seized Raven's hand with a grip of Duranium, forcing her to
keep her hand still, unmoving inside me while I came and came until it
hurt so bad my breasts were such centers of heat, no pain

I cried for her to stop, stop, stop, pleasepleaseplease.....

Raven began to pull her hand out of me. One of her hands supported my
leg in the air, and she twisted again and again with her fist, pulling
at my ring muscles from the inside until suddenly her knuckles were
out of me. She slowly withdrew her fingers

and I grunted loudly clamping down tight against the sudden emptiness
inside me. More spasms, aftershocks, quivers, my sexmouth winking in
denial and loss, I don't think I was coming any more but I was a mass
of satisfied sex. From my burr haircut to the toes which Leah was now
licking between, my whole body was a sex organ.

It was over, and I regained my breath. Staring at Raven as she
alternated with Leah in licking up my wetness. Licking and tasting my
sex, my come. I jerked again and again as they hurt my now sore groin,
but it was a loving hurt and I caressed their heads in turn as they
drank me.

I was on my side, and I pulled a blanket over me as I watched. Leah
and Raven. I ... went into a doze and then out and then back into a
doze and then out.

Raven was on her hands and knees next to me, vstat' rakom, doggy
position. We kissed and she closed her eyes and groaned. Behind her
crouched Leah, and from Raven's tremors it was obvious it was the
Bajoran's turn. I huddled under the blanket, caressing Raven's strong
lean arm. Noticing how Raven's eyes showed white. Touching those nose
ridges and her eyebrow ridges. I caressed her hand and hair, listening
as obscene noises of feet in mud, of wetness, floated to my ear.

Somewhere between last night and now, Leah had become the top, the
dom, the Crocodile. I felt uneasy, not having control of things. It
would be Leah who decided things now. Maybe it would have been her in
any event. There wasn't much I could do about it after she'd already
managed to flip me. Fighting Leah now would suddenly and completely
break up the thing that might be developing between her and myself,
and me and Raven.

At one point in my life I would have walked out that door stark naked
rather than let some other woman top me, Croc me.

What the hell am I going to do after today? No Leah? Or Raven? I knew
from the emptiness already growing in my stomach that my little night
of sex had become a ... relationship.

Hell, I can't start feeling love for a married woman, can I? It's just
good sex, that's all it is. Why then do I keep thinking about Leah?
Don't I love Ro Laren just as much? Maybe more. Confusion thy name is
threefer. I should have cold-shouldered Leah. But it had struck such a
right note when she had referred to us as gorgeous bitches.

I had the sinking feeling my emotions were carrying the rest of me
along. Again. Worst scenario possible, as well. I think I was falling
in love with two extraordinary women at the same time.

Late Sunday afternoon, the three of us piled into Leah's flitter. It
was drizzling, a typical Bay Area day. Raven wanted me to sit in back
with her, but I wanted to hold hands with Leah. Raven was pissed at
that, sad. It was a silent trip, I could already feel the Bajoran
becoming the one left out. Which was all wrong.

So I turned around in my seat and talked with my new black-haired
lover. Making a conscious choice to keep in touch with Ro Laren. Leah
was not terribly happy at being suddenly the one left out. I knew how
she felt. Crocodiles like her or myself wanted to always have a handle
on the lovers we have around us. Evidently the threesome game isn't
played any different here on Terra than it is out in the rest of the
Galaxy.

I had already found out both Raven and myself were new members of the
Starfleet family. If such it might be termed. Also, Leah was a DOCTOR
Leah Brahms, and a valued specialist in building StarShip Engines.
Very impressive. I'd noticed the diplomas in the study she shared with
her husband.

Her husband was a matter I didn't want to dwell on very long. In his
holo's on the walls he was a dark-haired man tall enough for my Leah
to fit under his chin.

My Leah. I knew I'd already used the phrase "MY Leah" in my own mind.
But it's REAALLLLY stupid to become attached to married women, but
since when did I ever manage to be non-stupid concerning women I
wanted? Besides, I always had a soft spot in my heart for any femme
that could flip me and become my Crocodile.

Both Raven and I got out of the flitter at the big East Gate of the
Academy. Leah did not offer us any promises or prospects, no
good-bye's, nothing. So far as she was concerned we were already
history. I'd made the decision. When I turned to talk with Raven I'd
made that choice.

The trouble with threesomes again. Not even wishing to do so, you
always hurt someone. Eventually. I consoled myself with the thought
that in a place like San Francisco Leah would have no trouble
acquiring a new femme to top. Der'mo, shit! I didn't want to hurt
anyone. I'd grown to love them both....

Raven and I walked and talked in the gathering dark, both of us
reluctant to end this weekend. My heart leaped -- or my glands did --
when I tentatively held Raven's hand and she held mine in return.
Staring, then smiling at me. I turned her to kiss her, still in sight
of the gate guards. Those nose and eyebrow ridges felt so RIGHT under
my tongue.

Raven rubbed her tongue gently against mine, when we kissed, and we
both knew the weekend had a little while longer to run. She was such a
good kisser. Patient, gentle, willing to take the time to build up to
something more. Not one of those girls who try to shove their whole
tongue down your throat in the first kiss.

Raven apologized, but she asked me to call her Laren. She was Ro Laren
again. She had made a return to reality again. At some point passing
through gate check, she had changed in her own mind. She was no longer
the mysterious and dominating Bajoran seductress named Raven.

Now she was just another Bajoran who imagined too vividly. An
ex-refugee, presently enlisted in Starfleet as a student preparing to
join the Academy as a Cadet. Probably smart, edgy, a fast temper, and
a brittle, tender ego.

I saw a tall lover who loved to nibble on my breasts and didn't steal
blankets in the night. No snoring either. I think she was slowly
falling in love with me. The more we talked, the more sure I was of
that. The more hurtful grew the knot in my chest at the thought she
might disappear from my life. I thought that she also made love like a
Minx on estrogen, chuckling at the image.

Laren was now aware that she was in the Real World again, was an
enlisted trainee. In the real universe she had joined Starfleet, for
the chance to work herself into Starfleet as an officer. She was going
to eventually have one to two years of schooling, most likely at the
New Laredo Military School.

First there would be the six-month course here as a below-decks, then
further schooling. If she flunks out of school, she'll still have to
serve her five-year enlistment. If she gets her schooling up to speed,
she'll become a Cadet. Just like I did. Aiming to be an officer
instead of a refugee. Again, just like me.

At the moment she was no one and nothing. Just another trainee. She
was ready to tie herself to someone. After the years since the Legion,
I was too. I was going to have to tell Laren what sort of a fool and
murderer she was tying up with. My years in the Legion and the whoring
she already knew about.

By accident we found an Enlisted Forces mess hall, and sat together
there for over an hour, comparing notes. Carefully feeling out each
other's emotions toward the other. She introduced me to Raktajino (out
of the replicator), and I felt her body when I got my hand around her
back. She backed away, then leaned into me. We kissed again, her hand
finding the tops of my thighs.

She tried the Centaurian spaghetti with mushrooms, we kissed some
more, then we left hand in hand. Leaving most of the spicy food
untouched. Now it was just an incoherent mass of atoms within the
replicator's waste recycling system..

She'd been raised a refugee on a planet not her own. I told her more
about my being a whore, and she accepted that. Too many times she
herself had traded her body for reasons seeming necessary at the time.

She'd killed, but she went a little pale when I explained I was once a
teenager who killed for hire. We cried together for that, feeling the
loss of our childhood's and youth. As if at twenty- one T-years we
were middle-aged adults.

I was a person who HAD to succeed. I had nothing else. She had to stay
out of the refugee camps. She'd spent too many years being a
professional refugee, someone doing nothing but waiting and hoping for
the liberation of Bajor. We both cried to discover neither one of us
were more than children during our first rape.

In time we left the mess hall, walking slowly through the night's
drizzle. Holding hands again. It seemed natural to go to my room with
her. My roommate wasn't due until Friday, and we had my nice-sized
room to ourselves. It was quite a lovely night, actually.

We climbed the stairs at the dorm feeling shy with each other. It was
obvious to me that I was working very hard to include this lean tall
waif in my life. Not just sex anymore, No, oh no.

I can't even recall how we got undressed. After we were naked we lay
in my bed and lay close. Touching body to body like this was the first
time together. Her hands were busy in my groin, and mine in hers. It
was easy to find what her stroke was, because I gave her mine when she
penetrated me. In seconds we had matched, in seconds it was as if we
were lovers for decades, sisters in blood, proficient with long
familiar instruments.

We needed to be close this night. Touch. Smell. Feel a woman's body
close, touching, warm, exciting, comforting. In time our casual
petting evolved into something a great deal more erotic and heated. In
time we lay side by side, kissing, caressing, needing. We lay close,
our hands busy in each other's groin again, our eyes twisting and
caring and blind.

It was a gentle slope we each climbed. Long, gradual, full more of
warmth than heat. Whispering to each other to hold back, to make it
better, to come together only after our bodies could no longer hold
back. I went rigid first, whipping senselessly, teeth gritting. As the
first plasma charge burned out from my belly I took Laren's clit
between finger and thumb and began increasing pressure on it. We came
as one, convulsing and begging and groaning. The night was full of
groaning, the room was thick with the smell of sex. Our mouth's became
filled with the other's tongue.

Quiet. The softer scent of sexsweat. Musk. The thin tenuous air of
woman rising from each other's body. It was a time to hold, to kiss,
to caress.

All night long, whenever I awoke for even an instant, my senses knew
another woman lay with me. At one point she rolled me over. For
nothing more than to open my legs and taste me. To lick my scent onto
her tongue. Not sex. Just enjoying how I tasted, how I smelled, how I
felt when she touched me there. As if I were the first woman she had
ever held.

She went to the dumper at some point in the early morning, then came
back to stand by the bed. There was some light from the Quad outside,
and she simply stood there. Watching me. Until she bent to come back
to bed. Kissing my eyelids, telling me to go back to sleep. Sighing at
the way our breasts met. Whispering tomorrow would come too fast.

She had such delicious possibilities.

I was in Starfleet sweats and she in her catsuit, and we ran together
to her unit area. We paced each other in the pre-morning light. More
aware of each other than of our own complaining bodies. She went
inside her barracks and I waited outside. Reville blew and her
classmates eventually boiled out to stand at attention in front. I
waved to her and began to jog back to my own dorm. Only once did I
turn and pace backwards, picking out her tall form doing pre-breakfast
calisthenics. She was just one of many.

It hurt to move away from her.

"A study of grammar is important because there are grammatical
solutions to reality problems in our universe." Sometimes my big
Bajoran can be such an innocent lost on Risa. We sat in a corner of
the Firrek Library, close to each other. Laren needed a lot of help on
a lot of items being thrown at her for the first time. I had been in
an identical position two years ago at Peter The Great School in
Moskva. Only none of my tutors then had a habit of putting her
tongue-tip to my neck.

"The problems of building a StarShip are not resolved by taking a
million bits of duranium and composite and steel and jiggying them
together until we've created something termed a StarShip. No, a
StarShip gets built by first constructing a model.

"A model is constructed according to specific rules, an equation, an
inter-locking library of equations. Rules. Which you might not yet
know when you start building.

"But grammar is an understanding of pattern, a habit of rules. An
equation is discoverable by knowing the very grammatical rules of
math. Grammar is a habit we swallow in order to understand what steps
we have to take after Step C and before step O. Grammar is a pattern.
We can't memorize all the possibilities, but we can acquire the
grammar's involved so we can ask for right questions. Math is also a
form of grammar expressed in unfamiliar terms."

Laren's eyes held such devotion at that moment I felt embarrassed. And
I knew I'd have to go back and explain the 'why' again. She was also
trying to distract me again by tickling me underneath my bra on the
side. Meaning she wanted to move to something she could understand
more easily than her Causality and Empiricism lessons.

In a smooth level tone I added: "Getting the tutor horny is not going
to get you a break from your lessons. It's just going to make the
tutor irritable and snappish because she is determined to get you
through this before she fucks your brains out. So just let that roving
hand learn some manners and quiet down. Work first. Work second. And
homework third."

Laren rubbed her magnificent head against my arm and purred a
questioning note. "Work," I repeated.

We weren't the only ones out enjoying the sunset. As far as I could
see there were other couples relaxing on a Friday night. The weather
being dry for a change, seeing the colors and glory as Sol seemed to
sink in the west. The other couples were bulky from clothes and
blankets as well. It was fall and it would be an early and very wet
winter.

Underneath our chestnut tree we were busy at other matters, though.
Laren's hands were all over me, her tongue kept attacking my neck and
face, and my hand was busy working myself in my own issue trousers.

"Yes, yes, yes, oh please don't stop, darling, oh I'm getting so
close, so very close, sweetheart, you're driving me wild, yes, yes,
keep it up, I love it the way you tongue me there. keep it up, please,
oh please, yes, yes, keep on doing that and I'll keep on handling
myself and I'm so close...."

A long pause, my hand almost still, barely moving on my soft soft
mound and it's hard hard clit. "Laren ... I love you I love you,
darling, darling, Laren ... Look at me, Laren," I pleaded. "You do
that so well, I love you, you're making me come, LOOK AT ME!"

Her dark eyes gazed at mine, we were one at the moment as my belly
flushed with heat and my groin ground tight and released. "I LOVE
YOU!"

I pinched my clit hard, brutally, between forefinger and thumb, mouth
wide open, my knees and ankles swinging in the air, my groin so
goddamned TIGHT!

Then it was washing all over me, I groaned loudly, my hips jerked, my
skin was so HOT, I sweat so suddenly, I could only pant. I couldn't
get enough air and I rubbed myself furiously as the sparkling waves
washed out of my groin. My breasts were sssoooo hard, so tight and
stiff. My gray-and-red cadet jacket was open and I was feeling very
loved as she fondled me through my thin jumper shirt. Laren's hand
kept finding my nipples, smiling as they hardened to her fingers. No
bra tonight. The hell with regulations. I pinched my clit again, then
again, and the next time I jerked my head back hard, going partly
blind. Comingcomingcomingcomingcoming, and all the time Laren held me,
caressed me, rode my bucking hips with her own. Oh, my spasms and
jerkings, they were the grammar of our loving.

I lay there bathed in heat, dissipating warmth, my skin still tingly,
chest tight. But I could breath now. My nipples were sensitive, but
not really sore. Between my legs Laren's hands now probed. My
dark-haired Raven. Looking at me, gauging my reaction. As a whore sex
was just another maneuver in my game of surviving. But with Laren? It
was life itself.

We kissed, quiet, content, her hand slowly playing with my groin
hairs. We returned to watching our sunset, there, underneath the
gnarly chestnut tree.

"As for time we have a Dirac number, and that cannot be reconciled to
our own GMT standard of time. It can only be rational in an
out-of-time universe. Which is why in warp drive biometric analysis
indicates that which is directly ahead of us is a bright spot, not a
star. Which is how we discovered the center of the Universe by
determining a minute of arc hidden behind the Xenon Rho galaxy
cluster. A deterministic shadow of a giant blackbody, it is in fact a
fossil of 807 K Ink, a radiation well left over from the Big Bang,
blue shifted to a Rhad of 4.4 X 4 to the tenth power."

My darling, she was struggling so hard. Which is why I didn't move a
muscle. Some things you can't do for someone else. They have to figure
it out themselves.

"Which is why we can't travel faster than a theoretical of warp ten?
But doesn't that mean there are other possible Dirac's and faster
speeds possible?"

My bright baby. It took me two weeks to get to that point.

"Schrodinger's Cat again," I encouraged. "Math can show us the cat
must be either dead or alive. Only every time we lift the lid to the
box the cat is dead. When the mathists discover the cat still alive,
we can start waiting for trans-warp."

In an hour's time Laren was fast asleep, drooling on the table. I
wadded her sweater under her head and tried to catch up on my own
reading. A cadet's life was not an easy one, but then I now knew the
Enlisted Forces had more to do than march pretty and do push-ups. I
liked the muscles Laren had now, of course. Show off. Bitch.
Introducing me to arm-wrestling so she could beat me.

My bitch. My gorgeous bitch.

"Listen, Myassa, me and my baby haven't gotten together for a little
fun for over twenty days, and in case you haven't noticed there was
sleet last night. The outdoors option is not feasible. We only need a
few hours, and I'll pay for your tickets to the Holo Palace. Please,
pretty please?"

Thinking to myself you owe me anyways. Suka! Bitch! That boyfriend of
yours keeps parading around nude when he drops by for a little sex.
Like the sight of his manly maleness is supposed to leave me gasping
in awe and lust. Not very likely. Not to mention he'd like to do me
for a lot more reasons than the fact that I'm a reasonably pretty
female. What IS it about modern men and lesbians, anyways?

"You ought to just bring her up to our room anyways, Tash. You know I
wouldn't mind if you and she get friendly while I'm in my side of the
room. I think she's kinda pretty, too. Hell, maybe I could pick up a
few pointers, na?"

I kept my face neutral for that one. Number one, considering Myassa's
techniques, especially in regard to fellatio, she is in dire need of
some learned instruction. But it's not my job.

Number two, you, my cutesy little very, very, innocent femme roommate,
are ready to branch out into woman-to-woman sex. And the woman you
make your first dyke is going to be my girlfriend only over my dead
and bleeding body.

Laren was on the Moog again, and Myassa, that suka, had retreated to
the dorm's study cubicles. Just for driving that witch away I loved
her music. She was so marvelously focused, holding the sound board in
her lap, hands forever moving.

"It sounds like a Bach harpsichord piece, I know, but it's a Corelli.
Corelli liked flutes and Bach considered them distracting. One of
Corelli's big problems was his pacing. He was a metronome when he got
going. Risorgimento, but a metronome."

Laren fascinated me. Last month she couldn't tell Bach from the pop
group Barking Loud. She'd already known how to handle the little Moog
for years, and was now able to be something I could never aspire to.
Now her music elective was becoming a large part of her soul.

"Can you give some more chorales later?" I asked. "I liked the
Buxtehude ones, the ones like distant chanting."

Laren smiled, wriggling her toes at me. Pleased to have pleased me.

I held out my arms and she crawled up my body. Trying not to hurt and
poke. A little smirk on her face. Knowing it had been good for me.
Depending on keeping my love, my lust, regard, whatever we had
together.

"Laren," I croaked, "oh, my sweet Bajoran doll, come to me." She did,
and I pulled her face to mine for a deep kiss. We lay together for a
long time, tongues teasing, smiles, soft and hard both, probing,
relaxing.

I told her of things we'd have to do tomorrow. The studying I had to
do. My finals were approaching at the speed of warp 9.3 and not all of
them were locked in. Not hardly. We didn't want to hurt each other,
but it's hard not to. We had to spend so much time apart, in order to
get our differing works done. Hell, maybe it was an advantage for us.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or something in that pattern. We
had so many responsibilities, after all. So much work. We had to
remain focused on our schooling. We had to survive.

Afterwards we slept, holding each other close. Divine girl. Doesn't
steal the blankets. There were snow flurries tonight, of all things.
We managed to take turns in the late dark of the night, enjoying each
other again with our kisses and our mouths.

In the morning she dressed and left for Reville in the EF quadrangle.
I never saw her again.

She and fifteen others of her class were transported to the Lunar
Base, and it's school. Actually they sent her all the way to Vulcan
space. A year later I got a cryptic letter about the new friends she
was able to make at the school on Chin's Reward. It did not take a
great deal of divination to realize she had someone else now. I also
heard once that she had gone to St. Cyr School for a few months. She
started Starfleet Academy the summer I graduated. Like I said, I never
saw her again.

There was a shape in my bed... Correction. Not my bed. Der'mo!

I looked around, it was contemporary clutter a' la pop music fan.
Bardak, a mess. Reina Star glowered at me from a large poster on the
opposite wall, and there was a carousel full of music filches.

Yes. The other woman in my -- her bed. She turned over and sleepily
caressed my face. Smiling. "Good morning, beautiful."

I remember being at the "Syntax" last night. And there was this
babydyke ... THIS babydyke.

Pretty enough, though in the cold light of day - morning, I didn't
care for the way the sides of her head was shaved. Last night I
couldn't keep my hands off the shaved portions of her head. Maybe it
was because I'm not accustomed to such fads.

Dark hair, no, make that auburn hair, big soft breasts, the kind that
make superb pillows. Very red nipples, soft, young. Hell, I'm just
twenty-two and already someone in their teens is 'young'.

On impulse I asked her: "What's my name?"

She couldn't remember. Der'mo...but that was okay. I couldn't remember
hers. To top it all, she was wearing an under-age glyph on her thumb.
The kind bouncers tap onto under-legal-limit girls so they can enter a
dyke bar but can't buy alcohol.

Suddenly the girl shot up, looking at a Chron. "Oh hot damn, my
Mother's going to kill me for staying in bed this late!"

At least I discovered her name. Her mother used it a lot when she was
yelling at her daughter for bringing someone home without asking
first.

No more vodka doubles on an empty stomach. Never. Not ever.

"There is, of course, tremendous stress on ANY student here at the
Academy, Miss Yar," the academic counselor intoned. "We are also aware
of the large numbers of volunteers among the Cadetancy whose home
planet's educational facilities are more at a par with twenty-first
century Terra than today's. Of whom we know you are one.

"The fact remains that you did better at Skola imini Pjotr Pervyi than
you are doing at present." He shuffled up some displays on his desk,
the bottomlight giving his face a spectral cast. Old desk.

"During your last test you failed to correctly identify a single one
of the propositions formulated by Weiszacker. And you could put
forward no reasoning as to why we still use binary coding instead of
Godelization numbers." He shook his bearded head at me.

"You have tested and proven abilities which are not being used.
Therefore I am requesting you submit to our initial tutorial
maintenance program. It's an elective, but if you ever want to do more
than pilot a desk, I suggest you join the program. We will choose a
number of tutors to assist you. Understand this completely. If you
wish Starfleet to be more for you than a meaningless depot job, you've
got to do better."

"Hello, Leah? This is Tasha, Natasha Yar. We met this past year. Yes.
Yes. Thank you. And you are, as well.

"Well, I'm not doing much of anything tonight and I was wondering if
you'd like to meet again.... Do things. See the sights. I understand
the Cochrane Museum is splendid, and it's free."

"Oh. Certainly, I understand."

"You see, there is no theoretical limit to any measurement, but in
actuality there is. The math is firm on this point. Aristotle's Turtle
does not continue to leap half the remaining distance forever. At a
determinist point it freezes and is unable to leap forward any more,
and this point is still shy of resolution. This is why the smallest
possible Dirac number is the length of time it takes for the speed of
light to cross the interior of a neutrino."

Geordi is fascinating. He must know a lot of his tutoring is going
straight over my head, but he continues. Because he wants to present
me with the STYLE of a formula, rather than the dry details, the
confusing particulars. Once I feel the whole pattern, then he can help
me grasp the individual building bricks.

I could have done a lot worst for my numbers theories tutor. He really
likes to play with numbers. They're more real to him than the people
he doesn't quite see on Starfleet Academy's quadrangles. Through his
visor, the universe must seem rather strange anyways. The math
probably gives him a way of positing the real-life limits he has to
constantly face.

Nice build, also. He looks strong. Great butt on him for a genetic
type like his. Most men with the blacker skins seem to have fatty
asses. He's awfully shy, though. Maybe he doesn't even like girls.

"On the mega scale of measurements we find Einstein's and Planck's
idea of a finite universe is true. BUT, and this an important BUT, the
Dirac numbers go beyond present conceived limits, which indicates true
Dirac limitations are yet..."

For a guy he's kind of cute.

We shopped for a few clothes, Medas-sayd and I. We then saw a TriVid
together at the Holo Palace. During the show we were discreetly
fondling each other, but the fire wasn't in it for me. I was the one
who was supposed to be habituated to girls, yet I felt like I was
doing all the work, the one making an effort. She seemed - distant.
Like she was keeping score and was already carving a notch in her
dildo for my conquest.

She also thought she should be the Crocodile in our pairing. When we
were in the dumper she rolled on me pretty strong, her version of
passionate. I termed it trying to determine the specific size and
shape of my tonsils with her tongue on our first kiss. Didn't any of
her girlfriends ever teach her how to kiss?

It was intentional, but my tease might be for nothing. Light brown
cream pants with skimpy panties should have been enough. In the mirror
I almost looked naked. No bra, nice lovely day, we're outside, bright
sunlight. He MUST get a good view of my rear as I stood watching the
high curlers come into the rocks, here at Fort Point. I'd put together
the whole gambit. Risked my health dressing like this on a late spring
day (which is colder by a factor of four than what I expected). All
for a guy, I'm doing this. But still no response. Not from Geordi.

Walking here was funny. Everyone noticed my outfit, or virtual lack of
it. Mother Mary knows I'd attracted a lot of attention from surprising
people. Including two teachers I'd thought didn't have any glands
left, and that Urdu girl from Philosophy One. I hadn't even thought
she liked girls.

Maybe Geordi couldn't really enjoy how naked I looked even with all my
clothes on. How limiting was his visor?

No one could be that shy, could they? Damn, I can't believe I'm going
to all this trouble for a guy. Geordi didn't seem gay, and I've known
lots of gay men who could function with a woman, but still...

What would I have to do if I decided to proceed with this process? Sit
in his lap and feel his reaction against my backside?

Geordi noticed I'd stopped my pacing and was looking down at him.

That might not be that bad of an idea. Rolling on him that way. Just
simply tossing all subtlety into the dumper and crawling all over him.
Rubbing and panting and spiking. It'd be too cruel for him not to like
girls after all that.

She might have been twenty-five years my senior, but she had a
seriously sensuous pattern to her walk. A cat stalking. Striking
dress, the gray made her look classically beautiful. Elegant. Tall.
Lean. She'd probably had a rejuv already. I wondered how she'd feel
under my hands.

Cadets weren't supposed to become romantic with the teachers, but she
was an administrator at the Academy, not a teacher. I told myself
again and again that it shouldn't matter if she just worked there.

She walked across the restaurant floor, smooth, liquid, fluid in
motion. I loved her dress, it was the new Two-cloth Martian style.
Black-and-gray silk and gray satin. But who the hell was the man
talking to her and walking this way?

He sat down to one side of me.

"Natasha, sweetheart," she said, "I'd like you to meet Zachary. He's
my husband, and we're lovely friends besides. He doesn't mind me
having another friend or two, even very close friends. We do care for
each other, and we allow each other to forge new friendships. But
mostly we love to share almost all aspects of our lives with each
other.

"Do you like to share things?"

Geordi had to call for lights when we entered. He might not have much
use for bright lights. He might get around well in the dark so far as
I could tell. The visor made him more ... masculine, I thought. If you
liked masculine.

"You're right, you're absolutely right, Geordi. Your dorm room is the
absolutely perfect place to study and talk. You've got a really nice
arrangement here. Hey, you've got a room two, three sizes mine. And no
roommate!" Could use a little something on the walls. Maybe not a
print or litho.... Tapestry? I saw a few nice ones over in Little
Japan.

"What did you say happened to your roommate?" I wasn't really
listening, I didn't care, I was just enjoying being someplace where it
wasn't public or outside or cramped. Libraries are so impersonal, most
of the time, and dorm study rooms often crowded.

Geordi's dorm room was a simple single large room almost divided into
three. It felt like I was moving in a palace! Four big windows of
transparent aluminum and it was like floating in space.

"Your room is HUGE! And there's no one else here to intrude on you
when you don't feel like it. No one to take a shower at three o'clock
in the morning. No one to lurch to their bed on a night when YOU have
a test the next day. All this room!"

I hurried from one area to another. Looking out the windows and seeing
the Pacific as a thin blue line to one side. An eighty-kilo
replicator. The beds were so much larger than mine. And he had a
couch. Which I immediately sat on to strip my boots and socks off.
Then I just stood there, wriggling my toes in a nice deep carpet.
Geordi was pleased as could be to see me enjoying myself.

Even with the visor, it wasn't hard to interpret his face.

He put our Brief's of PADD's on the desk/table, smile cutting his face
in half. He touched the desk and a low noise resolved into Reina
Starr's "Truth and Fiction". Love and melancholy and loss and going on
afterwards. Geordi hadn't seemed the type to spend his time on music.
But maybe it helped him concentrate.

Listening to the music, I moved in slow circles, relishing the feel of
toes in deep clean rug. I kept looking to Geordi to see if he'd enjoy
it or call for an immediate attack on the Mountain.

I didn't want to climb the Mountain tonight. All that work every cadet
lived with and carried with them each and every day. We called it the
Mountain, and no, it wasn't an affectionate term.

He opted for watching me dance, his smile relaxing. I moved and Reina
Starr regretted. And Geordi? He allowed himself to lean against the
replicator behind him. Enjoying me moving. He liked that, even if I
was in my hideous gray Cadet suit.

It was suddenly a dance for Geordi. I closed my eyes and pretended I
was alone, pretended the dance was just for me. Forgetfulness was
something I sought tonight. Tonight I was tired. Tonight I had had
enough. Tonight I didn't want the Academy any more. Tonight there must
not be the Mountain. Tonight I wanted... ?

I opened my eyes, my arms tight around myself, swaying to Starr's
passions, gazing on the tutor who had perplexed me for so long. A new
song began after "Fiction". Mostly instruments, sadness given in a few
repeating chants occasionally thrown into the face of night. Love long
lost in the words.

I swayed to Geordi, knowing I'd resolved something important. Watching
him as I circled to him. Tonight was for Geordi. I knew then what sort
of dance I was making, I'd played out the scenario many times before.
But not with a man, not to this song, and not recently.

"Dance with me, Geordi," I invited.

He began to stammer a regret, an excuse, a condition, a no. Instead I
put my arms around him. I leaned back and he moved out into the floor.
"I can't dance..." he began.

"You mean you can't dance well," I interrupted. "We can all dance,
it's born in us. Come with me. Move with me, let me help you. It's all
that's needed."

He was awkward, but I slowed and matched myself to his attempts at
movement. Working him until we had a meaningless pattern of slow turns
and glides all of our own. He let me pull him closer, until he could
feel my breasts, my hips, my belly, my body warmth, until he could
smell my shampoo of lime. He touched my body with his, and I knew I
was touching back. In the patterns we became one body. I could feel
him stiffening in his groin, but I backed off enough so that we could
be more sedate in our motions.

"Slow Time Machine" came into the room, and I smiled at it the
singer's madness of life and sound.

    "It's a mighty slow time machine/It only goes one way

    We grow from woman's loins/Until in the earth we lay

    But in the long long time we have/We fly forward Day by Day

    Our speeds are set in steel hard/And in the end we pay."

He flinched at first, when I attempted to kiss, but I did not force
his head forward. He made his own decision, and it was all his when he
turned his head slightly so our lips could meet. Then again. Then
pressing our lips hard against each other.

Geordi broke the kiss, trying to straighten his thoughts. Trying to do
this on the basis of much more than just physical sex. You could see
all the gears rotating in his mind. Maybe dear Geordi had had a few
women in his time, but he wasn't very comfortable in his possible new
role of lover.

We just rocked, only a very generous person could term what we were
doing as dancing. We kissed again, still not burning, but getting
there. On my part, anyways. Then Reina began her next song.

"Geordi," I began, "this song is about a real event. Reina's singing
about a girl who left her after a year as a lover." He looked at me,
waiting for me to go on.

"She's a lesbian, and she's made no secret of it." Still that patient
look from Geordi. God, had we been studying so long together I could
so easily tell all his facial expressions despite his visor?

"I'm a lesbian, too. I wanted you to know that. From my lips. Well, I
like guys too, I can relate to them, but from as long as I can
remember, I've wanted other girls, women."

A long pause. Then: "Why are you saying this to me, Tasha?"

"Because I think I want to go to bed with you. I don't love you, maybe
I never will love you. Oh, I been in love with other men, real genuine
gut-cramping love. So the possibility is there. But I'm a lesbian. And
... And having me as. Your girlfriend. Might be way different than
anything you've ever imagined. Maybe worse."

"You're offering me more than a one-night stand?"

I nodded a yes, figuring he could see it.

Suddenly I HAD to ask. "Geordi," I breathed, close to him, feeling his
stiffness with my belly. "Have you ever had a woman before?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I know what to do, don't worry..."

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" I grinned. "Don't, please, I think it's
absolutely gorgeous stupendous thrilling, really really really, I do,
Geordi. Don't panic.

"I like it. Don't panic." We kissed again, and again. He didn't try to
force his tongue inside my mouth, but he accepted my tongue in his. We
hugged, we circled in slow and reasoned movements, in fire and ice and
belly-heat. I searched again with my belly for the return of his
erection, sighing with relief when it came up again.

"Please, darlin', Geordi, oh sweet Mary Mother, please, let me be your
first, do this sweet thing for me, let me show you how good it can
be." Later I'll have to tell him about my years as a whore. He knows
about the Legion, but should I tell him I was once a hired murderer?
But not now, the revelations must come, but not now. Let us have this
moment first.

I could feel myself heating up, my chest tight, my skin prickly, my
nipples beginning to stiffen.

And all for a guy.

He was slick, I'd give him a good spit job when I had him in my mouth.
My fingers guided him a little, but he found me easy, some men are
naturals.

I looked up into his blank eyes, deliberately seeing him as he was.
Seeing who it was that ... it slid ... oh oh oh oh

He well and truly had me. It was Geordi who had me, my tongue hurt
where I bit it in reflex. Geordi had me, he was in me, he was in me
and I could feel his hairs hit my clit and I hurt my tongue again. My
eyes shut when he withdrew, but I forced them open for his next
stroke. Sooo... Trying... Not to be... too fast, not to hurt, he was
in me and my clit felt his kinky groin hairs rub my bead and he...
Then he ...

It was getting good, and getting really good fast. Maybe it was the
length of time there'd been since I connected with a guy. Maybe it was
my getting Geordi's cherry. Maybe it was his being such a sweetheart.

Maybe ... Maybe it was because Geordi was Geordi. Maybe it was because
I could understand the me I saw reflected in him. Had he been in love
with me for a long time? He couldn't stop babbling. He knew I was
beautiful, his heart had broken the first time he tutored me, and he'd
welded the parts back together to keep from scaring me. It's always
powerful to know the person you're with thinks you're the greatest
woman since Eve. And Geordi didn't need to worry about me giving him
any apples to sample. I was the biggest temptation he was going to
have to deal with.

Since when are things logical? It felt right, right then, to be with
Geordi. Tomorrow might be a different thing, but we're all trapped. It
takes all of us a day to get a day further along on our slow time
machine.

I've ridden a lot of Tigers in my time. And I never learn to avoid
them. This was just another Tiger, and maybe I'll enjoy this ride
better than most.

Oh hell. Poor Geordi. He'd just come in me and could hardly speak from
the embarrassment. Like most young guys never have that problem. Was
he such an innocent? How could a woman help but feel for him?

"That's okay, Geordi, that's okay, it isn't as if you have five or
seven women a week, it's your first, we both know I'm your first. It
happens, even to guys who've been around, trust me. Now... That's it.
Roll over, yeah, just relax, let yourself relax. Let me rub myself on
you. You like that? Fuck it if I'm a little messy....if you don't
mind?

"You like the way I kiss?

"Answer yes or die.

"Good, that's great, darlin', because I've got a guaranteed cure for
that particular condition. So long as you're still alive, at any rate.
You ARE still alive, aren't you?

"You like that, na? Say yes, or... You got it, babe. Say yes or die.
You like that too? Here..." Moments of silence, a wet silence, a
silence in which you could hear Geordi moaning in the darkness.

A sudden fluid pop on the bed. Another. More groaning. Two more wet
pop's. "There! You see? Well, maybe in your case you can't... What I
mean is, there's no problem, is there. Here let me..."

"Oh, you like the nibbling do you? And what about this? You like that
too? And..." Movements, slight noises.

"Geordi? What say we get back to that point in time before we were so
rudely interrupted...

"OUCH! Try not to put your elbow on my breast next time, they're
tender sometimes. Just let me get my legs... Ooooooohhhhhhhhh... you
didn't have any trouble finding where the hidden treasure is, this
time, did you?

"Not so fast, Geordi. Yeah, long strokes... We have all night...."
Goddamn, this was getting good. I'd forgotten how good it could get
with a guy. It had been a loooong time since I'd found a guy with a
personality much worth a damn.

And who knows for how much longer we'll last as a pair? We'll find
out. It'll happen. We're going to be an item. Time to ride the Tiger
again. I could be his Crocodile, be his boss, whip him to my will. Be
his dom. Easy.

But I'm getting tired of being a Crocodile. The hell with it. Can't I
simply be Natasha Yar for a while?

Just think, all this room for the two of us. Oh yes, Geordi, suck
those nipples, use your teeth, make me beg....

---

continued in the seventh story in the Riding The Tick series 'Dove'