FIC: Girls Are Great (1/2)
Title: Girls Are Great
Fandom: Star Trek XI, Kirk/Girl!Spock, Uhura
Disclaimer: ST isn’t mine. There’s one line from Wikipedia and several choice phrases by stultiloquentia in here.
Rating: NC-17, for explicit sex, and very dirty talk
Warnings: Porn. Meta. Porn.
Summary: Girl gets off. Girl thinks about getting off. Girl gets off again. Girl just happens to be Spock, who used to be a guy.
A/N: Many thanks to my_daroga, for reactions and encouragement, and stultiloquentia, for advice/ideas and encouragement.
Originally posted the first part of this anonymously for this prompt. I stopped when I realized just how many issues I had with what I wrote. So I added meta to the porn. Then wrote more porn.
I just have to say before I click the button that this is by far the porniest and most ridiculous thing I have ever shared with anyone ever. Anonymous commenting is always allowed in this journal.
Girls Are Great
When Jim and Spock first fucked, it was Jim’s first time with a man. It had been new for both of them, and they worked out what worked for each other. Jim liked to lie back and be thrown around; he also liked to command and hold someone down. Spock liked a little of column A and a little of column B as well, so it all worked out.
They’d started on even ground and built themselves up together, and for Kirk that was novel and extremely fucking nice. Monogamy was new, too, and really interesting, way more than Kirk had thought it could be. He loved the challenge.
But sometimes he wished he still held all the cards.
It wasn’t that there weren’t women in the world who could easily match or break him. Heaven knew they were everywhere. But that didn’t change that with a woman, you usually knew what was going to go where, unless there were toys involved. Jim had never been against toys on principle. But on principle, he was also mainly for his own cock.
And Jim knew girls. Sometimes, he just missed them. Sometimes he missed them even at the same time as he wished he could show Spock that he might’ve started out sort of on square one in their bedroom, but in every other bedroom he’d’ve been a fucking expert.
So when the transporter turned Spock into a woman, everyone else laughed but Jim just got hard. Spock had the same haircut, same uniform-too loose, now. He had the same slim elegance and the same eyebrows and the same tight expression Jim loved to fuck completely up. But his face was smooth, narrower, more delicate, his lips fuller. His shoulders were more slender and his hips flared out, and the best part was on his chest were the tell-tale breasts.
“I fail to see the humor of the situation,” Spock told them, as without inflection as ever, but amidst the laughter he sounded particularly chilly.
Scott wanted to get him a regulation female uniform. Jim thought of Spock’s legs, the lean, hard, muscular, lightly dusted in black hair thighs he so loved, and thought of what they must be now. Softer, rounder, giving way-Spock in a skirt so short you could see where thighs ended and ass began-yes. Yes, please, Jim thought.
Spock glared at Scotty and told him his “current uniform would suffice, until you have ascertained the transporter malfunction. Unless repairs will extend an inordinate amount of time.”
“They will,” Scott said, “if it means you’re going to be wearing a skirt.”
“Then I will refrain, so as to ensure adequate performance of our chief engineer.”
Scott looked chastened, but also still like he really wanted Spock in a skirt to happen in this universe.
Jim totally sympathized.
Meanwhile Bones wanted to examine Spock.
Jim totally sympathized all over again.
“I assure you, I retain my full capabilities as first officer,” Spock told everyone. He had a girl’s voice, too, even if it was husky and deep. And really fucking sexy. “The difference in my sex in fact has no bearing on my function aboard this vessel, or my relationships with any of you in a professional capacity. The difference is wholly personal. And private.”
Someone sniggered, but Spock glared, or merely gazed unblinking which from Spock was way more cutting than a glare. So Spock gazed. And avoided Jim’s eyes.
“Amen,” Uhura said. “Tell it to Starfleet, sister.”
“We bear no relation,” Spock pointed out.
“Now we do,” Uhura said. “Can we just have it kind of be a rule? That difference in sex doesn’t change how we do our job? And not just whenever Spock gets girl parts.”
“I have no plans of becoming female again.”
Jim felt sort of sad at that.
Apparently Uhura did too. “Maybe everyone would remember it a little better if you did. And can we talk about regulation length of the skirts?”
It was true Spock was just as good at his job. Jim tried not to order him to do too many tasks that involved bending over. That would have been disrespectful. Besides, Uhura and Spock had this weird kind of understanding now, and Jim had learned long ago you didn’t want to piss Uhura off.
Jim should have been jealous, considering her and Spock’s whole past. Instead, he kept thinking that if Spock and Uhura had some special bond again now, well maybe they should go back to having sex with each other, except with way more Jim this time. What if Spock and Uhura were touching each others’ breasts, God, and Spock wasn’t wearing a bra, because of course he hadn’t been wearing one before the transporter, God, what if Jim was fucking Spock’s hot pussy while Spock ate out Uhura so Jim’s face was in Uhura’s-
Spock would say he was being sexist. Spock was always telling him he was sexist, even before this whole thing. Jim never understood. “I treat the ladies right,” he insisted. It was just a fantasy. Spock was his and he wasn’t allowed to have sex with Uhura. It wasn’t actually as if he could make Spock and Uhura do it anyway. Namely because rank didn’t extend that far, but meanwhile Spock insisted the way he used the phrase, “the ladies” was, in fact, sexist.
“Persons of the female persuasion,” Jim grumped.
“Officers,” Spock told him. “Starfleet officers.”
“Starfleet officer girls,” Jim pointed out. Observantly, he thought.
They weren’t going to start that argument now. Especially because even if Spock was a girl now he was still very much a Vulcan so way stronger. And wasn’t that nice, not just because Jim had always been turned on by a girl who could knock him flat, but that meant Spock’s brand new . . . equipment had Vulcan muscles. As much as he loved Spock’s given anatomy, Jim had to try that. He was curious. That wasn’t sexist. Probably.
Spock seemed surprised by all of this. “You do not feel awkward?”
“Why would I feel awkward?”
“You frequently feel without attendant logic.” Jim reached for him, but Spock kept his space. “However,” Spock went on, “in this instance, your reluctance would be supported by several reasons.”
“Well, you just said, I don’t have to have a reason. Spock, I want to-” Spock was holding himself in his ‘no touching’ posture. Jim was hard, felt like he had been all day; he just wanted to grab Spock and have his manly way with him. But he dropped his hand and asked, “What’s wrong?” instead.
Spock raised a brow. “The answer to your question is readily apparent,” Spock replied.
Very readily. The bored, ‘don’t you know anything?’ expression usually went straight to Jim’s cock anyway, but on the sharp, feminine features Jim was so unused to, it looked like that much more invitation to fuck. “Scotty will get you turned back,” Jim said finally, because Spock wasn’t giving him anything to work with.
“I have no doubt.”
“Are you worried it will feel weird?”
“I do not worry,” Spock said, even though they both knew it wasn’t true. Spock seemed to be getting his bearings, which was for Spock just having less of an expression than usual. “As you appear to be . . . eager to commence intimate relations, I must conclude that my altered anatomy not only does not repel you, but is, in fact, arousing to you. However, as you have expressed satisfaction with my natural anatomy in the past, you must understand my struggle to find the rationale behind why you would-”
“Shit. Spock.” Jim did invade his space, then, no matter what the posture was telling him. He crowded, and Spock gave way, allowing himself to be pressed up against the wall of his quarters. He did not, however, relax.
“You think I’ll want you less when you turn back?” Jim asked, breath against Spock’s ear. He should have been less hard in the face of Spock’s doubt, but he was only more so. “You think I won’t still want your cock? Or maybe you think I won’t like you as much now as I think I will? That I won’t like that nice little pussy you got. Is it both?”
Spock was looking away, maybe to give Jim his full ear, maybe because he just couldn’t face him. Jim was pretty sure it was to expose his throat and the line of his jaw in that way he had, that way that made Jim need to lick and bite and pull skin into his mouth until it turned faintly green. “Fascinating,” Spock breathed.
“I’m an insightful guy,” Jim said between nibbles.
“I was not referring to your insights,” Spock moved against him, exposing more throat, “though upon further analysis, they may prove correct.” Spock was shifting his weight now, which was fascinating, as Spock was usually very still, the movements he did make very purposeful. But now it was almost as if he was-fidgety.
Spock went on, “I was referring to differences in female anatomy which have only just now become observable by experience.”
“Yeah?” Jim put a hand on Spock’s hip to keep him still.
“The glands and walls surrounding the female orifice secrete a lubricating substance not only at the moment of penetration, but in preparation for it. As such, secretion may occur due to a sense of mental anticipation, rather than direct application of physical stimulus to the area.”
Jim was still for a second. “Shit.” He bit down on Spock’s neck, hard, which caused Spock to adjust his position again, relaxing, if only a little bit. His posture was subtly-so subtly, it was still Spock-come hither. Even against the wall, he bid Jim come closer, his legs so slightly open for Jim to slip a hard thigh between, his face averted in that defiant, yet somehow submissive, way. “Shit,” Jim said again. “You just said I made you wet.”
Spock did not deny it. Delicate, feminine nostrils flared as Jim at last touched Spock’s chest, the firm small breasts.
“Say it,” Jim said. “Say I made you wet.”
Spock’s hands were against his sides. Jim could hear another breath, noisy and so soon after the last, when usually his intakes were invisible and steadily paced. Jim slipped the hand at Spock’s hip down.
“I want you,” Jim told him. “I want you no matter whether you’re a girl or a boy or both, for Chrissake. I’d want you if you were a Klingon.” His hand was between Spock’s legs. His other hand cupped one of Spock’s breasts. “I’d want you if you were a robot or one of those floaty green things in that nebula in the phi sector. And okay, maybe I wouldn’t fuck you if you were a Tribble, but I’d sure damn try to think of a way how.”
“That would be ill-advised.”
Jim took his hand away.
Spock’s voice sounded more strained than usual. “I was only referring to the dire consequences of Tribble reproduction.”
“Good,” Jim told him, and started opening Spock’s pants. “I would want you anyway. But whatever happens, I want you the way you are. I fucking love your cock-”
“Your butchery of the English language,” Spock began.
“But since it’s here, I fucking want your cunt.” Jim’s hand was in Spock’s pants now, cupping his mound, a hard, hot pressure, a promise. “Now say it.”
“You make me wet,” Spock said immediately, his voice sounding scraped all the way up from where Jim’s fingers were, and Jim obligingly dipped his fingers in to test Spock’s words. Spock made a sound, and still couldn’t look at Jim.
He was warm and wet and really, very soft. Jim explored with gentle fingers. When he found Spock’s clit, he brushed it with his thumb.
“This is-” Spock jerked once, then contained himself-“this, it’s-fascinating.”
“Yeah.” Jim kept his thumb near the clit, his fingers carefully stroking Spock’s folds, middle finger pushing in at last. “Yeah, it is. My hand’s getting soaked.”
“Jim.” Spock’s voice was so low and guttural it sounded almost like a man’s voice, his natural voice.
Jim curled his fingers in response, another finger hooked inside while the rest kept touching those folds, his thumb rubbing up against Spock’s clit. Then he found the spot, and Spock writhed. He fucking writhed, which he never did, so Kirk twisted fingers inside him, adjusting his hand so the heel of it pressed against Spock’s clit. He found that spot again.
Spock finally looked at him, eyes snapping open and widening. “Oh,” was all he said, his hips bucking once. It was small; that was all.
“Nice,” Jim told him. He pulled his fingers out of Spock, wet and sticky. “You were very nice.”
Spock was taking quick breaths, so obviously seeking to even them out.
It made him look vulnerable somehow. He was usually a hair taller than Jim, but now he was a hair shorter. The dark eyes were nearly black, so large in the piquant face. It was because Spock normally knew what he was doing, Jim concluded. Their first time together had been both of their first times with men, but at least Spock had known his own body, known what it wanted and what it could do.
Now Jim really did have all the cards.
He hastily began to take off Spock’s clothes. Spock was attempting to similarly dispense with Jim’s, but he was not quite as deft and efficient at this as normal. It could be that different hands and different reflexes just took some getting used to. Or it could be he was still recovering from what Jim’s fingers had provoked inside him.
As if to explain, Spock began, “I was unaware it would be so . . .”
At last Spock had Jim’s shirt off, and Jim had Spock naked. He was beautiful, though that wasn’t a word Jim usually used for the male version. But Spock stood there looking so slender and dark and sharp in the shadows, the bright parts of him austere in hard light. His breasts were perfect, the size of a handful, just the way Jim liked them, and he should have known Girl Spock would have been everything he liked: wet, confused, and a little uncertain, addressing that confusion and uncertainty with clinical curiosity and wonder.
Jim cupped one of his breasts with his hand again. His thumb brushed a nipple, circling gently, not too long before he had to taste, and he dipped his head. “You didn’t know it would be so what?” he asked, lifting his head after a moment.
Spock was looking slightly unfocussed. It was a rare thing during sex; usually his focus was intense. “You may continue,” Spock said absently, not answering Jim’s question.
Jim smiled, and commenced sucking on the nipple. He was still very hard, but Scott was probably going to get that transporter fixed soon enough, and Jim wanted the little time they had for this not to end too quickly.
“The function of the breast is to provide nourishment for off-spring,” Spock said after a moment of Jim sucking one breast while his hand palmed the other. Spock’s voice was strained. “The primary anatomical requirements are glands and fat. There is no reason there should also be so many nerves concentrated in such a-”
Jim gave a hard suck, then scraped ever so gently with his teeth as he pulled off, which made Spock shut up. “Girls are great,” Jim agreed. “Let’s fuck.”
“I believe the area is still too sensitive for direct stimulus to be app-”
“It isn’t. But I won’t. Don’t worry. I won’t ‘direct stimulus’ that area for a minute or two.” Jim found Spock’s sex and dipped his fingers in again.
“Directly stimulate,” Spock objected. “But-”
“This feels alright, doesn’t it?”
Spock considered a moment. “Yes. But-”
“Just gonna get inside you.” Jim was taking off his pants. “Not gonna touch your clit yet. You’ll just take my cock. It’s going to be great; you’ll see. And then when I come I’m going to-directly stimulate-you, I’m gonna finger that nice clit until you get too sensitive all over again.”
Spock twitched. His face was averted, exposing that line of feminine jaw. “When you speak,” his voice was straining for stability, “the vagina’s preparations for your entry increase in volume. It is most-”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Shit.” He positioned himself at Spock’s entrance. “It gets you wetter.”
“It . . . increases my wish that you . . . it is most-”
“Say it.”
“Most motivating.” For Spock, this was akin to verbal flailing.
“You’re fucking drenched for it.”
Spock at last looked at him again, his dark eyes comparatively huge. “I am sufficiently primed.”
Jim pushed in. Whatever flub in the transporter that had made Spock female for the time being had apparently not flubbed it enough to make him a virgin, which as a man Spock definitely hadn’t been. Jim had time to spare a thank-god for that, and buried himself slow but deep inside Spock. “Fuck,” he said. “Fucking fuck, you’re gorgeous, Spock. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Spock was holding onto him tightly. He often did during intercourse, but not in such a way, as if he could not hold himself upright of his own power. “I concur,” he said.
“Tight,” Jim said, pulling out. He pushed back in. “Wet. Spock. Fuck. You’re so goddamn tight. Spock, you’re fucking perfect.”
“I-” Jim pushed in again, and Spock’s voice faltered. His eyes still seemed too large. “I-I concur,” he repeated.
Spock was more at a loss than Jim had ever seen him. Hopefully Scotty didn’t get that transporter fixed too soon. Maybe Jim could go through. They could fondle each other's breasts and eat each other out, and, God, Jim had never cared for toys, but there had never been a need so obvious for a double headed dildo, and then Spock could get his cock back and fuck Jim’s cunt and fuck Jim’s breasts and fuck Jim through the floor, and it had to be this good, this had to be, had to be as wonderful and wet and warm for Spock as it felt for Jim just now. “Tell me,” Jim grunted. “What it-feels like-”
“This is sufficiently-you are sufficiently-”
“Fucking you,” Jim said, because he was, albeit rather slowly. Obligingly he sped up. “Tell me the rest. I wanna know what that cunt’s like, taking me, opening up for me, you’re all warm and wet and strong, Spock, you’re fucking strong, but you’re so fucking tight and, shit, shit, you’re soft-”
Spock was clutching him now, holding Jim’s head as Jim fucked him against the wall. He lifted a thigh to wrap around Jim, and Jim hoisted him up, Spock’s legs wrapped around his back as he fucked him. The angles were all different now, and Jim had never fucked him like this. “Tell me,” Jim repeated. “Tell me what I feel like to you.”
“You are large.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s damn right. Tell me.”
“You are-holding me up.”
“Yeah, what’s it feel like, keep going.”
“You are-fully aroused: hard, firm, and-I feel as though I have . . . reverted to liquid, and, and you are all that . . . Jim-”
“You ready, honey?” because that’s what Jim said to girls.
Spock said, “Oh,” again, maybe hearing that sweetness Jim usually never used for him, or maybe because Jim was hitting that spot now, and bringing his hand up to find Spock’s clit.
“That’s it,” Jim said, fucking hard now, moving his hand against Spock’s sex, finding that clit as he pushed him into the wall, “just like that, you take it, you take it baby, just like that, tell me honey, tell me-”
“F-faster,” said Spock, who had never stuttered in his life, and Jim lost it.
He spent himself inside of Spock, thrusting over and over and over again. Somewhere in there he pinched Spock’s clit, hard, and Spock cried out. At last Jim was slowing down, and one of Spock’s legs was slipping down his back, back down to the floor.
Jim caught his breath, kissed Spock’s shoulder, and said, “You come?” because it was harder to tell with girls.
Spock’s mouth was slack, his eyes unfocussed; he hardly ever looked this debauched after; generally the expression was smug. “I believe-I think so,” Spock told Jim.
“You think so?” Jim laughed.
Spock shut his mouth and scowled, which mostly meant he arranged his face into its ordinary expression. “I experienced-it’s different. I am . . . satisfied,” he began again.
“Let’s make sure,” Jim grinned, and slid down to his knees.
“No.” Spock yanked on his hair. “I cannot. So soon after-”
“This is the best part. Yes you can.” He put his mouth on Spock’s cunt.
He didn’t bother to finesse it. His tongue quickly found Spock’s clit and began to work it, worked it while Spock clutched his hair and said, “I do not believe this is entirely comfor-Jim,” and suddenly bucked his hips under Jim’s grasp, up into Jim’s face. Jim kept going, sucking and twirling and fucking until Spock bucked again, and again, and again.
Jim was pretty sure that was Spock coming. Jim didn’t stop.
He brought his hand up to fondle Spock’s cunt again, pushing his fingers in to find the spot again. Spock’s thighs, not to mention his sex, were drenched by now, and trembling. Jim drew one leg over his shoulder to help Spock balance, still swirling his tongue around Spock’s clit, with Spock saying,
“Jim, that was my-I already-” something about peak intensity, “twice, already,” and Jim resented the fact Spock could even say the word ‘intensity’ at this point, but it was Spock, so Jim kept going, “I have already-achieved-multiple-” What followed was something like a feminine grunt, which Jim considered an accomplishment, because it was still Spock, and then, “More, Jim. Please.”
He hadn’t actually known Spock could become incoherent, but his other orgasms had been little ones, the kind Jim had seen girls ride out and come out the end ready for another, but this one was going to be big, really big, and Spock’s knees were shaking so hard Jim brought Spock’s other leg up on his shoulder.
Spock was too heavy, it wasn’t going to work, because Spock still had a Vulcan skeleton even if it was a female’s, but Jim didn’t care, he was the Captain, dammit, and it was Spock, and Spock didn’t beg, and Jim wanted, Jim wanted to hear him beg-
Jim slid his wet, sticky hand back to Spock’s familiar-and-not-familiar ass, finding the hole back there and working the tight ring of muscle with a wet finger, his other hand coming up to thrust fingers up Spock’s cunt, hunting for his g-spot, while his mouth still worked Spock’s clit because Jim was just that good-
Spock came explosively.
He arched into Jim’s mouth, pubes hitting Jim’s jaw so hard it ached, dropping more weight in all the wrong ways onto Jim’s shoulders, but Jim held on, he held on and on and on, because Spock was making such a funny sound, such a funny, musical, sort of keening, alien, almost sad sound, not as loud as you would think but ripped from somewhere Spock would like everyone to think he didn’t have.
Then at last when that sound stopped there were only harsh breaths that came in gulps, that sounded too much like a woman crying, which Jim was actually very used to considering how hard he could make a lady come, but he had to keep telling himself, this was Spock.
It was Spock, so he wouldn’t let Jim pick him up and take him to the bed, but they stumbled there, and landed with Jim on top, Spock looking up at him.
Spock wasn’t crying, just gulping, straight bangs for the first time making him look very young, maybe because his eyes were so large and somehow confused in that sharp and so-loved face. Those pupils searched out Jim, Jim whose whole face was wet from the nose down with undoubtedly bruised lips, Jim who was ready to go again already because this was Spock, and if he could, Jim wanted to fuck that confusion right out of his face.
Jim kissed him then, really long and hard, with tongue, and Spock wasn’t completely spent the way he looked; he was desperate, barely holding onto something Jim didn’t understand. Spock’s tongue wrapped around Jim’s the way his arms did, clutching him. After several long, slow moments, Jim pulled away. For a moment, Spock didn’t realize Jim was disentangling himself, and clung closer, then pulled back with a jerk. Spock looked the same as ever, but there was still confusion in his eyes.
“The secretions do not taste as acrid as I had anticipated,” Spock said, as if was the epitome of his disorientation.
“That’s true,” Jim told him, trying not to sound too gentle, because-it was Spock. “You taste really good.”
Here, at least, was a familiar argument. Spock latched onto it. “You say the same of my ejaculate. I fail to see why your tongue’s flavor sensors would, from an evolutionary standpoint, have developed-”
Jim was playing with Spock’s breasts again. “Don’t say sensors in bed.”
Spock paused while Jim squeezed them together and ran his tongue between them. “Why?”
“You say it funny. Your come tastes good, your cunt is delicious, and I’m going to fuck your tits.”
There was another pause, which sounded to Jim like curiosity. “You cannot, as you put it ‘fuck my tits’. The anatomy is not suited to-”
“You can say ‘fuck my tits’ as much as you want, though,” Jim allowed.
“Are you under the impression that my female anatomy gives you an authority over me which you did not previously possess?” Spock said. “I can assure you that is not the case. The sex of an individual has no bearing on his or her dominant or submissive tendencies, and therefore in my present condition, power dynamics should remain un-”
“You’ve got such great tits.” Jim was kneeling over Spock, squeezing his breasts together. “I always possessed authority over you,” he added. “I just didn’t use it.”
“To my understanding-”
“Spock, I’m not sexist. You’ve got girl-parts and you’re strong and I respect you and I don’t get to order you around or make you bend over a lot on the bridge even though I really really wanted to.” Jim paused in his squeezing, then positioned his cock between Spock’s breasts again. “Okay, maybe I’m a little sexist. But you should know, I really want to fuck your tits, and you’ll probably like it if I fuck you tits, so we should just stop debating now, because I’m going to fuck your tits.”
Spock was quiet.
“What’s that?” Jim said, still holding his cock there between Spock’s breasts.
“I give you my permission.”
“What for?”
Spock raised a brow, and never knew how close he came to having Jim’s come all over his face. “You may perform intercourse with my mammary glands, should you so desire.”
“You’re fucking sexy,” Jim told him, and proceeded to fuck Spock’s tits.
Spock watched him as he did it with far too much interest, curiosity a bright little gleam in his dark eyes Jim so loved.
“Fascinating?” he asked Spock, after several thrusts.
“Yes,” Spock said, sounding wondering. “The areas to which you are providing friction are not particularly sensitive for me.” Spock’s hands were on Jim’s thighs, back arching as Jim slid his cock between his breasts. “You are providing me with no direct stimulation.”
“I can,” Jim said. He was not in a good position to reach between Spock’s legs, but he could circle his thumbs slowly over Spock’s nipples. So he did.
“You mistake my meaning,” Spock gasped.
Spock didn’t really gasp, Jim thought, and realized something. “It’s turning you on.”
“I-” Spock’s breath caught again as Jim’s cock slid between his breasts. “I believe that is what the volume of secretions indicate.”
“You like me using you.”
Spock’s jaw was hanging slightly open now. His voice was a whisper. “The bed is getting wet.”
Jim groaned, moving above Spock’s chest. “You love it,” he repeated.
Spock’s eyes were huge as he watched Jim move. “I do not know why.”
“You’re a slut for it.” Jim was shuddering.
“You are approaching your climax.” Spock’s voice was still that raw whisper.
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Hang on, Spock.”
Then he was moving down Spock’s body, and Spock was saying, “What are you-”
“Just gonna do you too, honey,” and then Jim slid inside Spock again. “You really are drenched for it, aren’t you, just like a good little slut, wetting the bed for it.” Jim moved his hand down to find Spock’s clit. Spock’s whole pussy was wet and messy, the way Jim liked it, almost too wet for friction, but he knew what to do. “You’re soaking,” he told Spock. “Such a good slut for me.”
Spock clung to him, and arched, and came as Jim twisted his clit, while Jim at last released himself inside of Spock once more.
Then there was soft sleepy kissing and Spock so warm and messy and spent, and Jim pulled him close the way he did with girls but not with Spock since Spock didn’t usually let him, except Spock let him, so he did. Jim closed his eyes, and thought the transporter could break any time, if such great things were going to happen.
Continued in part two
Fandom: Star Trek XI, Kirk/Girl!Spock, Uhura
Disclaimer: ST isn’t mine. There’s one line from Wikipedia and several choice phrases by stultiloquentia in here.
Rating: NC-17, for explicit sex, and very dirty talk
Warnings: Porn. Meta. Porn.
Summary: Girl gets off. Girl thinks about getting off. Girl gets off again. Girl just happens to be Spock, who used to be a guy.
A/N: Many thanks to my_daroga, for reactions and encouragement, and stultiloquentia, for advice/ideas and encouragement.
Originally posted the first part of this anonymously for this prompt. I stopped when I realized just how many issues I had with what I wrote. So I added meta to the porn. Then wrote more porn.
I just have to say before I click the button that this is by far the porniest and most ridiculous thing I have ever shared with anyone ever. Anonymous commenting is always allowed in this journal.
Girls Are Great
When Jim and Spock first fucked, it was Jim’s first time with a man. It had been new for both of them, and they worked out what worked for each other. Jim liked to lie back and be thrown around; he also liked to command and hold someone down. Spock liked a little of column A and a little of column B as well, so it all worked out.
They’d started on even ground and built themselves up together, and for Kirk that was novel and extremely fucking nice. Monogamy was new, too, and really interesting, way more than Kirk had thought it could be. He loved the challenge.
But sometimes he wished he still held all the cards.
It wasn’t that there weren’t women in the world who could easily match or break him. Heaven knew they were everywhere. But that didn’t change that with a woman, you usually knew what was going to go where, unless there were toys involved. Jim had never been against toys on principle. But on principle, he was also mainly for his own cock.
And Jim knew girls. Sometimes, he just missed them. Sometimes he missed them even at the same time as he wished he could show Spock that he might’ve started out sort of on square one in their bedroom, but in every other bedroom he’d’ve been a fucking expert.
So when the transporter turned Spock into a woman, everyone else laughed but Jim just got hard. Spock had the same haircut, same uniform-too loose, now. He had the same slim elegance and the same eyebrows and the same tight expression Jim loved to fuck completely up. But his face was smooth, narrower, more delicate, his lips fuller. His shoulders were more slender and his hips flared out, and the best part was on his chest were the tell-tale breasts.
“I fail to see the humor of the situation,” Spock told them, as without inflection as ever, but amidst the laughter he sounded particularly chilly.
Scott wanted to get him a regulation female uniform. Jim thought of Spock’s legs, the lean, hard, muscular, lightly dusted in black hair thighs he so loved, and thought of what they must be now. Softer, rounder, giving way-Spock in a skirt so short you could see where thighs ended and ass began-yes. Yes, please, Jim thought.
Spock glared at Scotty and told him his “current uniform would suffice, until you have ascertained the transporter malfunction. Unless repairs will extend an inordinate amount of time.”
“They will,” Scott said, “if it means you’re going to be wearing a skirt.”
“Then I will refrain, so as to ensure adequate performance of our chief engineer.”
Scott looked chastened, but also still like he really wanted Spock in a skirt to happen in this universe.
Jim totally sympathized.
Meanwhile Bones wanted to examine Spock.
Jim totally sympathized all over again.
“I assure you, I retain my full capabilities as first officer,” Spock told everyone. He had a girl’s voice, too, even if it was husky and deep. And really fucking sexy. “The difference in my sex in fact has no bearing on my function aboard this vessel, or my relationships with any of you in a professional capacity. The difference is wholly personal. And private.”
Someone sniggered, but Spock glared, or merely gazed unblinking which from Spock was way more cutting than a glare. So Spock gazed. And avoided Jim’s eyes.
“Amen,” Uhura said. “Tell it to Starfleet, sister.”
“We bear no relation,” Spock pointed out.
“Now we do,” Uhura said. “Can we just have it kind of be a rule? That difference in sex doesn’t change how we do our job? And not just whenever Spock gets girl parts.”
“I have no plans of becoming female again.”
Jim felt sort of sad at that.
Apparently Uhura did too. “Maybe everyone would remember it a little better if you did. And can we talk about regulation length of the skirts?”
It was true Spock was just as good at his job. Jim tried not to order him to do too many tasks that involved bending over. That would have been disrespectful. Besides, Uhura and Spock had this weird kind of understanding now, and Jim had learned long ago you didn’t want to piss Uhura off.
Jim should have been jealous, considering her and Spock’s whole past. Instead, he kept thinking that if Spock and Uhura had some special bond again now, well maybe they should go back to having sex with each other, except with way more Jim this time. What if Spock and Uhura were touching each others’ breasts, God, and Spock wasn’t wearing a bra, because of course he hadn’t been wearing one before the transporter, God, what if Jim was fucking Spock’s hot pussy while Spock ate out Uhura so Jim’s face was in Uhura’s-
Spock would say he was being sexist. Spock was always telling him he was sexist, even before this whole thing. Jim never understood. “I treat the ladies right,” he insisted. It was just a fantasy. Spock was his and he wasn’t allowed to have sex with Uhura. It wasn’t actually as if he could make Spock and Uhura do it anyway. Namely because rank didn’t extend that far, but meanwhile Spock insisted the way he used the phrase, “the ladies” was, in fact, sexist.
“Persons of the female persuasion,” Jim grumped.
“Officers,” Spock told him. “Starfleet officers.”
“Starfleet officer girls,” Jim pointed out. Observantly, he thought.
They weren’t going to start that argument now. Especially because even if Spock was a girl now he was still very much a Vulcan so way stronger. And wasn’t that nice, not just because Jim had always been turned on by a girl who could knock him flat, but that meant Spock’s brand new . . . equipment had Vulcan muscles. As much as he loved Spock’s given anatomy, Jim had to try that. He was curious. That wasn’t sexist. Probably.
Spock seemed surprised by all of this. “You do not feel awkward?”
“Why would I feel awkward?”
“You frequently feel without attendant logic.” Jim reached for him, but Spock kept his space. “However,” Spock went on, “in this instance, your reluctance would be supported by several reasons.”
“Well, you just said, I don’t have to have a reason. Spock, I want to-” Spock was holding himself in his ‘no touching’ posture. Jim was hard, felt like he had been all day; he just wanted to grab Spock and have his manly way with him. But he dropped his hand and asked, “What’s wrong?” instead.
Spock raised a brow. “The answer to your question is readily apparent,” Spock replied.
Very readily. The bored, ‘don’t you know anything?’ expression usually went straight to Jim’s cock anyway, but on the sharp, feminine features Jim was so unused to, it looked like that much more invitation to fuck. “Scotty will get you turned back,” Jim said finally, because Spock wasn’t giving him anything to work with.
“I have no doubt.”
“Are you worried it will feel weird?”
“I do not worry,” Spock said, even though they both knew it wasn’t true. Spock seemed to be getting his bearings, which was for Spock just having less of an expression than usual. “As you appear to be . . . eager to commence intimate relations, I must conclude that my altered anatomy not only does not repel you, but is, in fact, arousing to you. However, as you have expressed satisfaction with my natural anatomy in the past, you must understand my struggle to find the rationale behind why you would-”
“Shit. Spock.” Jim did invade his space, then, no matter what the posture was telling him. He crowded, and Spock gave way, allowing himself to be pressed up against the wall of his quarters. He did not, however, relax.
“You think I’ll want you less when you turn back?” Jim asked, breath against Spock’s ear. He should have been less hard in the face of Spock’s doubt, but he was only more so. “You think I won’t still want your cock? Or maybe you think I won’t like you as much now as I think I will? That I won’t like that nice little pussy you got. Is it both?”
Spock was looking away, maybe to give Jim his full ear, maybe because he just couldn’t face him. Jim was pretty sure it was to expose his throat and the line of his jaw in that way he had, that way that made Jim need to lick and bite and pull skin into his mouth until it turned faintly green. “Fascinating,” Spock breathed.
“I’m an insightful guy,” Jim said between nibbles.
“I was not referring to your insights,” Spock moved against him, exposing more throat, “though upon further analysis, they may prove correct.” Spock was shifting his weight now, which was fascinating, as Spock was usually very still, the movements he did make very purposeful. But now it was almost as if he was-fidgety.
Spock went on, “I was referring to differences in female anatomy which have only just now become observable by experience.”
“Yeah?” Jim put a hand on Spock’s hip to keep him still.
“The glands and walls surrounding the female orifice secrete a lubricating substance not only at the moment of penetration, but in preparation for it. As such, secretion may occur due to a sense of mental anticipation, rather than direct application of physical stimulus to the area.”
Jim was still for a second. “Shit.” He bit down on Spock’s neck, hard, which caused Spock to adjust his position again, relaxing, if only a little bit. His posture was subtly-so subtly, it was still Spock-come hither. Even against the wall, he bid Jim come closer, his legs so slightly open for Jim to slip a hard thigh between, his face averted in that defiant, yet somehow submissive, way. “Shit,” Jim said again. “You just said I made you wet.”
Spock did not deny it. Delicate, feminine nostrils flared as Jim at last touched Spock’s chest, the firm small breasts.
“Say it,” Jim said. “Say I made you wet.”
Spock’s hands were against his sides. Jim could hear another breath, noisy and so soon after the last, when usually his intakes were invisible and steadily paced. Jim slipped the hand at Spock’s hip down.
“I want you,” Jim told him. “I want you no matter whether you’re a girl or a boy or both, for Chrissake. I’d want you if you were a Klingon.” His hand was between Spock’s legs. His other hand cupped one of Spock’s breasts. “I’d want you if you were a robot or one of those floaty green things in that nebula in the phi sector. And okay, maybe I wouldn’t fuck you if you were a Tribble, but I’d sure damn try to think of a way how.”
“That would be ill-advised.”
Jim took his hand away.
Spock’s voice sounded more strained than usual. “I was only referring to the dire consequences of Tribble reproduction.”
“Good,” Jim told him, and started opening Spock’s pants. “I would want you anyway. But whatever happens, I want you the way you are. I fucking love your cock-”
“Your butchery of the English language,” Spock began.
“But since it’s here, I fucking want your cunt.” Jim’s hand was in Spock’s pants now, cupping his mound, a hard, hot pressure, a promise. “Now say it.”
“You make me wet,” Spock said immediately, his voice sounding scraped all the way up from where Jim’s fingers were, and Jim obligingly dipped his fingers in to test Spock’s words. Spock made a sound, and still couldn’t look at Jim.
He was warm and wet and really, very soft. Jim explored with gentle fingers. When he found Spock’s clit, he brushed it with his thumb.
“This is-” Spock jerked once, then contained himself-“this, it’s-fascinating.”
“Yeah.” Jim kept his thumb near the clit, his fingers carefully stroking Spock’s folds, middle finger pushing in at last. “Yeah, it is. My hand’s getting soaked.”
“Jim.” Spock’s voice was so low and guttural it sounded almost like a man’s voice, his natural voice.
Jim curled his fingers in response, another finger hooked inside while the rest kept touching those folds, his thumb rubbing up against Spock’s clit. Then he found the spot, and Spock writhed. He fucking writhed, which he never did, so Kirk twisted fingers inside him, adjusting his hand so the heel of it pressed against Spock’s clit. He found that spot again.
Spock finally looked at him, eyes snapping open and widening. “Oh,” was all he said, his hips bucking once. It was small; that was all.
“Nice,” Jim told him. He pulled his fingers out of Spock, wet and sticky. “You were very nice.”
Spock was taking quick breaths, so obviously seeking to even them out.
It made him look vulnerable somehow. He was usually a hair taller than Jim, but now he was a hair shorter. The dark eyes were nearly black, so large in the piquant face. It was because Spock normally knew what he was doing, Jim concluded. Their first time together had been both of their first times with men, but at least Spock had known his own body, known what it wanted and what it could do.
Now Jim really did have all the cards.
He hastily began to take off Spock’s clothes. Spock was attempting to similarly dispense with Jim’s, but he was not quite as deft and efficient at this as normal. It could be that different hands and different reflexes just took some getting used to. Or it could be he was still recovering from what Jim’s fingers had provoked inside him.
As if to explain, Spock began, “I was unaware it would be so . . .”
At last Spock had Jim’s shirt off, and Jim had Spock naked. He was beautiful, though that wasn’t a word Jim usually used for the male version. But Spock stood there looking so slender and dark and sharp in the shadows, the bright parts of him austere in hard light. His breasts were perfect, the size of a handful, just the way Jim liked them, and he should have known Girl Spock would have been everything he liked: wet, confused, and a little uncertain, addressing that confusion and uncertainty with clinical curiosity and wonder.
Jim cupped one of his breasts with his hand again. His thumb brushed a nipple, circling gently, not too long before he had to taste, and he dipped his head. “You didn’t know it would be so what?” he asked, lifting his head after a moment.
Spock was looking slightly unfocussed. It was a rare thing during sex; usually his focus was intense. “You may continue,” Spock said absently, not answering Jim’s question.
Jim smiled, and commenced sucking on the nipple. He was still very hard, but Scott was probably going to get that transporter fixed soon enough, and Jim wanted the little time they had for this not to end too quickly.
“The function of the breast is to provide nourishment for off-spring,” Spock said after a moment of Jim sucking one breast while his hand palmed the other. Spock’s voice was strained. “The primary anatomical requirements are glands and fat. There is no reason there should also be so many nerves concentrated in such a-”
Jim gave a hard suck, then scraped ever so gently with his teeth as he pulled off, which made Spock shut up. “Girls are great,” Jim agreed. “Let’s fuck.”
“I believe the area is still too sensitive for direct stimulus to be app-”
“It isn’t. But I won’t. Don’t worry. I won’t ‘direct stimulus’ that area for a minute or two.” Jim found Spock’s sex and dipped his fingers in again.
“Directly stimulate,” Spock objected. “But-”
“This feels alright, doesn’t it?”
Spock considered a moment. “Yes. But-”
“Just gonna get inside you.” Jim was taking off his pants. “Not gonna touch your clit yet. You’ll just take my cock. It’s going to be great; you’ll see. And then when I come I’m going to-directly stimulate-you, I’m gonna finger that nice clit until you get too sensitive all over again.”
Spock twitched. His face was averted, exposing that line of feminine jaw. “When you speak,” his voice was straining for stability, “the vagina’s preparations for your entry increase in volume. It is most-”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Shit.” He positioned himself at Spock’s entrance. “It gets you wetter.”
“It . . . increases my wish that you . . . it is most-”
“Say it.”
“Most motivating.” For Spock, this was akin to verbal flailing.
“You’re fucking drenched for it.”
Spock at last looked at him again, his dark eyes comparatively huge. “I am sufficiently primed.”
Jim pushed in. Whatever flub in the transporter that had made Spock female for the time being had apparently not flubbed it enough to make him a virgin, which as a man Spock definitely hadn’t been. Jim had time to spare a thank-god for that, and buried himself slow but deep inside Spock. “Fuck,” he said. “Fucking fuck, you’re gorgeous, Spock. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
Spock was holding onto him tightly. He often did during intercourse, but not in such a way, as if he could not hold himself upright of his own power. “I concur,” he said.
“Tight,” Jim said, pulling out. He pushed back in. “Wet. Spock. Fuck. You’re so goddamn tight. Spock, you’re fucking perfect.”
“I-” Jim pushed in again, and Spock’s voice faltered. His eyes still seemed too large. “I-I concur,” he repeated.
Spock was more at a loss than Jim had ever seen him. Hopefully Scotty didn’t get that transporter fixed too soon. Maybe Jim could go through. They could fondle each other's breasts and eat each other out, and, God, Jim had never cared for toys, but there had never been a need so obvious for a double headed dildo, and then Spock could get his cock back and fuck Jim’s cunt and fuck Jim’s breasts and fuck Jim through the floor, and it had to be this good, this had to be, had to be as wonderful and wet and warm for Spock as it felt for Jim just now. “Tell me,” Jim grunted. “What it-feels like-”
“This is sufficiently-you are sufficiently-”
“Fucking you,” Jim said, because he was, albeit rather slowly. Obligingly he sped up. “Tell me the rest. I wanna know what that cunt’s like, taking me, opening up for me, you’re all warm and wet and strong, Spock, you’re fucking strong, but you’re so fucking tight and, shit, shit, you’re soft-”
Spock was clutching him now, holding Jim’s head as Jim fucked him against the wall. He lifted a thigh to wrap around Jim, and Jim hoisted him up, Spock’s legs wrapped around his back as he fucked him. The angles were all different now, and Jim had never fucked him like this. “Tell me,” Jim repeated. “Tell me what I feel like to you.”
“You are large.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s damn right. Tell me.”
“You are-holding me up.”
“Yeah, what’s it feel like, keep going.”
“You are-fully aroused: hard, firm, and-I feel as though I have . . . reverted to liquid, and, and you are all that . . . Jim-”
“You ready, honey?” because that’s what Jim said to girls.
Spock said, “Oh,” again, maybe hearing that sweetness Jim usually never used for him, or maybe because Jim was hitting that spot now, and bringing his hand up to find Spock’s clit.
“That’s it,” Jim said, fucking hard now, moving his hand against Spock’s sex, finding that clit as he pushed him into the wall, “just like that, you take it, you take it baby, just like that, tell me honey, tell me-”
“F-faster,” said Spock, who had never stuttered in his life, and Jim lost it.
He spent himself inside of Spock, thrusting over and over and over again. Somewhere in there he pinched Spock’s clit, hard, and Spock cried out. At last Jim was slowing down, and one of Spock’s legs was slipping down his back, back down to the floor.
Jim caught his breath, kissed Spock’s shoulder, and said, “You come?” because it was harder to tell with girls.
Spock’s mouth was slack, his eyes unfocussed; he hardly ever looked this debauched after; generally the expression was smug. “I believe-I think so,” Spock told Jim.
“You think so?” Jim laughed.
Spock shut his mouth and scowled, which mostly meant he arranged his face into its ordinary expression. “I experienced-it’s different. I am . . . satisfied,” he began again.
“Let’s make sure,” Jim grinned, and slid down to his knees.
“No.” Spock yanked on his hair. “I cannot. So soon after-”
“This is the best part. Yes you can.” He put his mouth on Spock’s cunt.
He didn’t bother to finesse it. His tongue quickly found Spock’s clit and began to work it, worked it while Spock clutched his hair and said, “I do not believe this is entirely comfor-Jim,” and suddenly bucked his hips under Jim’s grasp, up into Jim’s face. Jim kept going, sucking and twirling and fucking until Spock bucked again, and again, and again.
Jim was pretty sure that was Spock coming. Jim didn’t stop.
He brought his hand up to fondle Spock’s cunt again, pushing his fingers in to find the spot again. Spock’s thighs, not to mention his sex, were drenched by now, and trembling. Jim drew one leg over his shoulder to help Spock balance, still swirling his tongue around Spock’s clit, with Spock saying,
“Jim, that was my-I already-” something about peak intensity, “twice, already,” and Jim resented the fact Spock could even say the word ‘intensity’ at this point, but it was Spock, so Jim kept going, “I have already-achieved-multiple-” What followed was something like a feminine grunt, which Jim considered an accomplishment, because it was still Spock, and then, “More, Jim. Please.”
He hadn’t actually known Spock could become incoherent, but his other orgasms had been little ones, the kind Jim had seen girls ride out and come out the end ready for another, but this one was going to be big, really big, and Spock’s knees were shaking so hard Jim brought Spock’s other leg up on his shoulder.
Spock was too heavy, it wasn’t going to work, because Spock still had a Vulcan skeleton even if it was a female’s, but Jim didn’t care, he was the Captain, dammit, and it was Spock, and Spock didn’t beg, and Jim wanted, Jim wanted to hear him beg-
Jim slid his wet, sticky hand back to Spock’s familiar-and-not-familiar ass, finding the hole back there and working the tight ring of muscle with a wet finger, his other hand coming up to thrust fingers up Spock’s cunt, hunting for his g-spot, while his mouth still worked Spock’s clit because Jim was just that good-
Spock came explosively.
He arched into Jim’s mouth, pubes hitting Jim’s jaw so hard it ached, dropping more weight in all the wrong ways onto Jim’s shoulders, but Jim held on, he held on and on and on, because Spock was making such a funny sound, such a funny, musical, sort of keening, alien, almost sad sound, not as loud as you would think but ripped from somewhere Spock would like everyone to think he didn’t have.
Then at last when that sound stopped there were only harsh breaths that came in gulps, that sounded too much like a woman crying, which Jim was actually very used to considering how hard he could make a lady come, but he had to keep telling himself, this was Spock.
It was Spock, so he wouldn’t let Jim pick him up and take him to the bed, but they stumbled there, and landed with Jim on top, Spock looking up at him.
Spock wasn’t crying, just gulping, straight bangs for the first time making him look very young, maybe because his eyes were so large and somehow confused in that sharp and so-loved face. Those pupils searched out Jim, Jim whose whole face was wet from the nose down with undoubtedly bruised lips, Jim who was ready to go again already because this was Spock, and if he could, Jim wanted to fuck that confusion right out of his face.
Jim kissed him then, really long and hard, with tongue, and Spock wasn’t completely spent the way he looked; he was desperate, barely holding onto something Jim didn’t understand. Spock’s tongue wrapped around Jim’s the way his arms did, clutching him. After several long, slow moments, Jim pulled away. For a moment, Spock didn’t realize Jim was disentangling himself, and clung closer, then pulled back with a jerk. Spock looked the same as ever, but there was still confusion in his eyes.
“The secretions do not taste as acrid as I had anticipated,” Spock said, as if was the epitome of his disorientation.
“That’s true,” Jim told him, trying not to sound too gentle, because-it was Spock. “You taste really good.”
Here, at least, was a familiar argument. Spock latched onto it. “You say the same of my ejaculate. I fail to see why your tongue’s flavor sensors would, from an evolutionary standpoint, have developed-”
Jim was playing with Spock’s breasts again. “Don’t say sensors in bed.”
Spock paused while Jim squeezed them together and ran his tongue between them. “Why?”
“You say it funny. Your come tastes good, your cunt is delicious, and I’m going to fuck your tits.”
There was another pause, which sounded to Jim like curiosity. “You cannot, as you put it ‘fuck my tits’. The anatomy is not suited to-”
“You can say ‘fuck my tits’ as much as you want, though,” Jim allowed.
“Are you under the impression that my female anatomy gives you an authority over me which you did not previously possess?” Spock said. “I can assure you that is not the case. The sex of an individual has no bearing on his or her dominant or submissive tendencies, and therefore in my present condition, power dynamics should remain un-”
“You’ve got such great tits.” Jim was kneeling over Spock, squeezing his breasts together. “I always possessed authority over you,” he added. “I just didn’t use it.”
“To my understanding-”
“Spock, I’m not sexist. You’ve got girl-parts and you’re strong and I respect you and I don’t get to order you around or make you bend over a lot on the bridge even though I really really wanted to.” Jim paused in his squeezing, then positioned his cock between Spock’s breasts again. “Okay, maybe I’m a little sexist. But you should know, I really want to fuck your tits, and you’ll probably like it if I fuck you tits, so we should just stop debating now, because I’m going to fuck your tits.”
Spock was quiet.
“What’s that?” Jim said, still holding his cock there between Spock’s breasts.
“I give you my permission.”
“What for?”
Spock raised a brow, and never knew how close he came to having Jim’s come all over his face. “You may perform intercourse with my mammary glands, should you so desire.”
“You’re fucking sexy,” Jim told him, and proceeded to fuck Spock’s tits.
Spock watched him as he did it with far too much interest, curiosity a bright little gleam in his dark eyes Jim so loved.
“Fascinating?” he asked Spock, after several thrusts.
“Yes,” Spock said, sounding wondering. “The areas to which you are providing friction are not particularly sensitive for me.” Spock’s hands were on Jim’s thighs, back arching as Jim slid his cock between his breasts. “You are providing me with no direct stimulation.”
“I can,” Jim said. He was not in a good position to reach between Spock’s legs, but he could circle his thumbs slowly over Spock’s nipples. So he did.
“You mistake my meaning,” Spock gasped.
Spock didn’t really gasp, Jim thought, and realized something. “It’s turning you on.”
“I-” Spock’s breath caught again as Jim’s cock slid between his breasts. “I believe that is what the volume of secretions indicate.”
“You like me using you.”
Spock’s jaw was hanging slightly open now. His voice was a whisper. “The bed is getting wet.”
Jim groaned, moving above Spock’s chest. “You love it,” he repeated.
Spock’s eyes were huge as he watched Jim move. “I do not know why.”
“You’re a slut for it.” Jim was shuddering.
“You are approaching your climax.” Spock’s voice was still that raw whisper.
“Yeah,” Jim said. “Hang on, Spock.”
Then he was moving down Spock’s body, and Spock was saying, “What are you-”
“Just gonna do you too, honey,” and then Jim slid inside Spock again. “You really are drenched for it, aren’t you, just like a good little slut, wetting the bed for it.” Jim moved his hand down to find Spock’s clit. Spock’s whole pussy was wet and messy, the way Jim liked it, almost too wet for friction, but he knew what to do. “You’re soaking,” he told Spock. “Such a good slut for me.”
Spock clung to him, and arched, and came as Jim twisted his clit, while Jim at last released himself inside of Spock once more.
Then there was soft sleepy kissing and Spock so warm and messy and spent, and Jim pulled him close the way he did with girls but not with Spock since Spock didn’t usually let him, except Spock let him, so he did. Jim closed his eyes, and thought the transporter could break any time, if such great things were going to happen.
Continued in part two