[Tina's quarters - alone time]
Tina really did need to stay off her feet and give the swelling on her knees a chance to subside. McCoy had suggested that she get out of sickbay take some time off, and she intended to follow that advice. Bill and Len showing up to walk her to her door and give her a hug was a nice surprise, and Tina was in a pretty good mood by the time she locked herself in her quarters for a serious attempt at actual relaxation. Sans alcohol. She didn't think her body would forgive her if she got drunk again anytime soon, after the night before with Nyota.
Who had, Tina noticed, left her room at some point while she was in sickbay, after generously cleaning up and making her bed. Tina resolved to thank her later, and slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before settling down on top of her neatly-tucked comforter to read for a while. Her first impulse was to use the time to do some more reading on pheromones, but in the spirit of actually taking time off, she picked up a trashy romance novel that she'd been slowly working her way through in fifteen-minute increments for weeks.
She read for about half an hour before realizing that she was racing through the book so quickly that she was missing chunks of the plot - suddenly the heroine was engaged to someone that her brother had chosen for her instead of her true love? When had that happened? - because she was eager to get to the next sex scene.
Oh, God. Nyota was right. She really did need to get laid.
And it wasn't too likely to happen anytime soon. But there was something she could do to take the edge off...
Tina wriggled out of her clothes and tossed them on the floor before reclining back against her pillows again. She closed her eyes. Slowly, she raised one hand and trailed her fingertips across her clavicles, down the flat of her sternum, and over to gently palm and squeeze one of her breasts. She breathed, touched, let her mind wander.
Inevitably, it went to the memories she most associated with this kind of pleasure. Roger, who had always been so sweet, so gentle with her body. She remembered the way he would map out her areolae with his tongue, the slide of his palms across her thighs, his voice in her ear as he curled over her, saying perfect, perfect, love you, love you...
The same tone of voice he used when she found him with one of his lab assistants, discovered it wasn't the first time: None of them matter. You're the only one who's important to me. The only one who's worthy.
It was supposed to be flattering, that regard. That he thought of her the way he thought of himself: better than human. Smarter, wiser. It was horrifying.
Her breathing had become sharp and shallow, not in arousal but in remembered anxiety. Tina squeezed her eyes shut more tightly and tried to focus on something - someone, anyone - else.
Her heart rate began to slow, her breath coming more easily. She touched her other breast, her free hand skimming across her abdomen, fingertips coming to rest against her mons.
She thought of dark hair, broad hands, that rough-smooth voice with an accent that thickened when he was annoyed, which always made her want to irritate him even more.
Another bad choice, Tina. Different reasons, but still a mistake.
She touched her labia majora, parting them with gentle fingers, dipping shallowly between the folds.
Broad shoulders, strong arms resting on either side of her, biceps and triceps flexing. Narrow hips between her thighs, the sharp-edged pressure of the ilium against her soft skin. Tina carefully thought in generalities, an idea of maleness more than any specific man, as she caressed her clitoris with a moistened fingertip, rolling her hips upward against a pressure that wasn't there.
She imagined his lips against her neck, the way she would tilt her head, bare her throat. How her larynx would quiver, the way he would feel her quiet moans against his mouth more than hear them. She imagined the sounds he would make, too. Harsh panting breaths, deeper, lower moaning. Together they would create the slick sound of skin against skin, the light creaking of the mattress, the shifting whisper of sheets.
And she would feel... She would feel...
Hot. Her skin tingling. Her muscles quivering. Filled. Embraced. Wanted.
She gasped when she climaxed, very quietly.
Some time later, Tina got up. She cleaned herself up and put her clothes back on. She checked the time. She had more than an hour left to go before she would need to do the next medical scan on Spock.
It seemed like forever.
Who had, Tina noticed, left her room at some point while she was in sickbay, after generously cleaning up and making her bed. Tina resolved to thank her later, and slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before settling down on top of her neatly-tucked comforter to read for a while. Her first impulse was to use the time to do some more reading on pheromones, but in the spirit of actually taking time off, she picked up a trashy romance novel that she'd been slowly working her way through in fifteen-minute increments for weeks.
She read for about half an hour before realizing that she was racing through the book so quickly that she was missing chunks of the plot - suddenly the heroine was engaged to someone that her brother had chosen for her instead of her true love? When had that happened? - because she was eager to get to the next sex scene.
Oh, God. Nyota was right. She really did need to get laid.
And it wasn't too likely to happen anytime soon. But there was something she could do to take the edge off...
Tina wriggled out of her clothes and tossed them on the floor before reclining back against her pillows again. She closed her eyes. Slowly, she raised one hand and trailed her fingertips across her clavicles, down the flat of her sternum, and over to gently palm and squeeze one of her breasts. She breathed, touched, let her mind wander.
Inevitably, it went to the memories she most associated with this kind of pleasure. Roger, who had always been so sweet, so gentle with her body. She remembered the way he would map out her areolae with his tongue, the slide of his palms across her thighs, his voice in her ear as he curled over her, saying perfect, perfect, love you, love you...
The same tone of voice he used when she found him with one of his lab assistants, discovered it wasn't the first time: None of them matter. You're the only one who's important to me. The only one who's worthy.
It was supposed to be flattering, that regard. That he thought of her the way he thought of himself: better than human. Smarter, wiser. It was horrifying.
Her breathing had become sharp and shallow, not in arousal but in remembered anxiety. Tina squeezed her eyes shut more tightly and tried to focus on something - someone, anyone - else.
Her heart rate began to slow, her breath coming more easily. She touched her other breast, her free hand skimming across her abdomen, fingertips coming to rest against her mons.
She thought of dark hair, broad hands, that rough-smooth voice with an accent that thickened when he was annoyed, which always made her want to irritate him even more.
Another bad choice, Tina. Different reasons, but still a mistake.
She touched her labia majora, parting them with gentle fingers, dipping shallowly between the folds.
Broad shoulders, strong arms resting on either side of her, biceps and triceps flexing. Narrow hips between her thighs, the sharp-edged pressure of the ilium against her soft skin. Tina carefully thought in generalities, an idea of maleness more than any specific man, as she caressed her clitoris with a moistened fingertip, rolling her hips upward against a pressure that wasn't there.
She imagined his lips against her neck, the way she would tilt her head, bare her throat. How her larynx would quiver, the way he would feel her quiet moans against his mouth more than hear them. She imagined the sounds he would make, too. Harsh panting breaths, deeper, lower moaning. Together they would create the slick sound of skin against skin, the light creaking of the mattress, the shifting whisper of sheets.
And she would feel... She would feel...
Hot. Her skin tingling. Her muscles quivering. Filled. Embraced. Wanted.
She gasped when she climaxed, very quietly.
Some time later, Tina got up. She cleaned herself up and put her clothes back on. She checked the time. She had more than an hour left to go before she would need to do the next medical scan on Spock.
It seemed like forever.