Poker Interrupted

But from the look on the captain's dark face, there was little time for such reflection. The Klingon was still dressed, if only partially, and, since she was making no move to disrobe further on her own, Halvorsen realised that she had to start there. Almost gingerly, she tugged at the fabric of Adjur's sleeveless top, pulling it free from her tight leather trousers.

A little nervously, she raised it up, revealing a taut, muscular belly, with a small metal stud in the navel. Otherwise, Adjur's skin was flawless, a smooth rich coffee colour that looked no different from the skin tone of many humans. Halvorsen glanced up to the Klingon's face, and saw that she was being watched intently, Adjur's lips slightly parted in anticipation. The alien woman seemed to enjoy the human's tentative actions. Perhaps she even revelled in the slow corruption of a Starfleet officer.

But there she had already been victorious, even if she was now pushing Halvorsen further into the abyss. Her honour had been taken from her with that uninhibited cry as she climaxed, now she could only finish the act, follow the Klingon's remaining script.

She helped Adjur pull the top over her arms, discarding it beside the bed, next to her own white knickers. Beneath, the Klingon wore a leather bra, much like that Laska had worn, solid enough beneath the cups to force her small breasts up into a prominent cleavage. Halvorsen fixed on it, breath coming deeper again, as she placed one of her pale hands on the side of the Klingon's chest, feeling smooth skin and toned flesh beneath her fingertips, as she slid them round to the back.

She was vaguely aware of Adjur undoing her trousers as she slipper her hands round to the woman's back, seeking the bra clasp. It was in the same place that she had expected - there were no major differences between human and Klingon clothing design in that respect, it seemed - and she unclipped it in a single motion.

She felt small, warm, hands sliding up her flanks, moving round to grip her shoulders, and glanced up to see that the captain still had her eyes firmly fixed on her own, watching every flicker of emotion cross her face. She pushed the bra up and out of the way, noting in passing the supple soft nature of the treated leather, and Adjur tossed it away with a rapid motion.

The Klingon's breasts were, as she had previously noted, small. Indeed, they were less prominent than her own, which were hardly impressive. Her nipples were dark, with small aureoles, the colour of rich chocolate. For a moment, Halvorsen was frozen, indecision again clouding her mind. This was so far from her experience... should she help Adjur with her trousers, or did she expect something else first?

One of the Klingon's hands was on the back of her head, fingers ruffling the blonde hair, pulling her downwards towards the dark body beneath her. It was clear now what she wanted, and there was no purpose to delaying.

Halvorsen lowered herself, brushing her lips against the swell of Adjur's breast, tasting the salt of the woman's sheen of sweat. Taking the initiative, she kissed again in the same spot, and then moved up, pressing pink lips against the dark nub before her. The Klingon hissed, but with a pleasant sound, an inhalation of breath closer to a gasp than the angry call of a cat. It changed to a soft growl in the back of her throat as Halvorsen opened her mouth, popping the erect nipple inside, sucking on it gently, teasing the tip with her tongue.

It seemed all too short a time later that Adjur muttered a throaty "lower... lower," and Halvorsen reluctantly released the nub, shifting her position on the bed to move her attentions down to the Klingon's firm stomach, and then lower still.

She struggled with the captain's trousers, pulling them off with some difficulty, before moving back to stroke the inside of her parted thighs. So far, her partner seemed to be enjoying things, but, as the crux approach, the human woman found herself nervous again.

Adjur's knickers, it turned out, were not also made of leather, but of black fabric, a drop of moisture at the crotch making it darker still. Halvorsen pulled them down, at last exposing the Klingon fully to her gaze.

She did not look so different from human women. The thatch on her mound was thick, dark against the brown skin, her nether lips shaped as any human would expect them, and clearly the source of the dampness on her undergarment. The security officer was frozen again, too nervous, too confused, to take the next step.

"Well?" came the captain's voice, harsh again.

Halvorsen did not meet her gaze. "I..." was all she could say in reply, face flushing a deep red at the thought of what was to come.

"I know. You haven't done this before." The Klingon's hand clenched in her hair, pulling at the roots. "Time you did. Taste me, Starfleet."

The hand pulled her head in closer, forcing her against her partner's most intimate parts. Halvorsen's nose was almost tangled in the Klingon's bush, the bristly hairs tickling against it. Her lips were against those other lips, muscular thighs either side of her head. She could taste the moisture, odd yet distinct. Who knew how similar that taste was to that of humans?

Adjur let out what sounded like a warning growl at Halvorsen's continued inaction, and it was clear she could remain so no longer. Still blushing, mind still unable to grasp how she had got to this pass, the security officer pushed out her tongue and probed the opening before her.

The taste filled her mouth, but she carried on, pressing deeper, responding to quiet grunts of satisfaction. She had not really parted Adjur's nether lips for a view of where her tongue now explored, but there seemed to be slight ridges there (surely that wasn't the case with humans?) and a clitoris that she suspected was larger than her own.

She continued, hoping only that she was doing it right. The captain's grunts seemed to be shifting to higher pitches of frustration now, as if Halvorsen was still too... too what? Too hesitant? Too slow? Too fast? Missing the right spots? What else could she do?

Yanking her hair, Adjur pulled her back, and Halvorsen brushed some loose alien hairs from her mouth, and took a few breaths, her nostrils no longer so filled with the scent of Klingon arousal.

"You need more guidance," the captain told her, "and you need to loosen up." Halvorsen opened her mouth to speak, but the Klingon woman scowled at her, "don't even say it. But I already know how to relax you. Come here."

Halvorsen frowned, uncertain of the woman's meaning, and, with a grunt of annoyance, the little Klingon grabbed her armpits and pulled her up the bed until the human was lying on top of her.

"Up on your knees and elbows." The security officer obliged, a hint of fear in her chest, wondering what came next, and at the Klingon's stern tone. "Stay there. Don't move."

She obeyed, even as her partner moved around on the bed below her, until she was facing the opposite direction, and the Klingon's dark hairy mound was once again beneath her face. Strong hands gripped her buttocks, fingernails digging into the flesh before jerking her down again, long legs spread wide.

She was taller than Adjur, so that the Klingon's ridged forehead now lay against her crotch. She knew better now than to say anything, but, as she had expected, the captain was not so silent.

"Fuck me," came the commanding voice, slightly muffled now, "while I loosen you up... like this!"

Halvorsen let out a sharp gasp as two fingers penetrated her, forcefully inserting themselves between her own pink lips. Her elbows gave way, and she dropped down, the Klingon's groin in her face once again. If she moved a little, she could just get her tongue into...

Adjur's fingers were pumping in and out now, hard and fast, perhaps motivated by a tint of Klingon anger. It felt good, much better than it should have done, and the human moaned in pleasure and buried herself enthusiastically into her partner's damp slit.

The little Klingon's hips bucked into her face, and she said some word that the universal translator couldn't cope with. "That's better... yes... now suck just there..." and then she dissolved into a long wordless moan, and Halvorsen knew that this time, she was doing it right.

They lay together, the human on top, Adjur with one hand round her waist, the other pressing two fingers into her, sliding in and out as both their bodies found the same rhythm. The Klingon's passionate groans were interspersed with rumbling growls of obvious pleasure, and Halvorsen herself was unable to suppress whimpers of ecstatic torment despite her mouth being so desperate to complete its task.

Two, she suddenly realised, could play at that game. Roughly pulling her partner's thighs just a little further apart, she extended a finger and plunged it between the damp lips, pressing as deep as she could, even as she continued to suckle on Adjur's swollen clit. The Klingon's sharp cry of delight told all she needed to know, and she pressed on, the tempo of their bodies' movements steadily increasing.

Halvorsen felt lost, in both the act and in the delightful sensation of her partner's fingers penetrating her own core. Gone was the proud security officer, the woman who so prided herself on her restraint and decency, on her dedication to ship and badge. Instead, she bucked and cried at each thrust of Klingon digits into her depths, giving herself over to the undiluted passion as she sought, with increasing urgency, to do whatever she could to have her partner join in her pleasure.

A second finger joined the first, barely squeezing into the smaller woman's tight hole, pounding between dark thighs with all the vigour she could muster as she mercilessly teased the Klingon's clit. Adjur cried out, a high-pitched shout of release, her body convulsing off the bed, vaginal muscles contracting and gripping the human's fingers so tightly it hurt. Fluid gushed onto Halvorsen's tongue, as her partners feet drummed on the wall above the head of the bed.

For a moment, they were still, Adjur gasping from the force of her climax. But then, the little woman seemed to remember her partner's own need. With a deep growl, she thrust a third finger between Halvorsen's swollen lips, stretching her wider than ever, hand slapping against the flesh with increasing force. Her free hand moved from the human's back, down to her breast, gripping her hard, erect nipple, squeezing and tweaking it for all she was worth.

Halvorsen screamed as she came, surprising herself with the volume of her cry, unable to believe that this orgasm was even better, more incredible than the last. She swore, knuckles white as they gripped the sheets.

Adjur moved beneath her, and Halvorsen's face dropped into the damp patch on the sheets between her partner's legs as the Klingon's tongue replaced her fingers, licking every drop she could from her human lover's tormented hole.

-***-

"Did everything go well, Lieutenant?" asked the security chief, as she stepped off the transporter platform, back onto the deck of the USS Endeavour.

"Yes, sir. Prisoner delivered, as requested." He was being led away now, by her colleagues.

"So I see. No troubles with the Klingons, then?"

Halvorsen saw, as the door swished open to allow a dejected O'Leary and his security escort to leave the room, a certain Tellarite standing out in the corridor. The stocky woman's dark eyes locked onto hers... this was no chance meeting. But Lugmilla wouldn't read anything there. Halvorsen had control again.

"No, sir," she replied, "I believe that I handled them well."