Innocent Intimacy or Intellectual Intercourse?

Not for the first time, I neatly remove each article of my uniform attire, meticulously folding and placing them upon the counter within our private bathing chamber, the heated, running shower awaiting our presence. It has been 3 weeks, 4 days, and 2.71 hours since my release from Sickbay.

I find myself reflecting on this, giving off what would appear to be an air of impassive tranquility to most. Given the reason for my leaving shift somewhat earlier than per usual, however, one such as my Ashal_Veh would recognize otherwise.


~ by Sochya on April 27, 2011.

20 Responses to “Innocent Intimacy or Intellectual Intercourse?”

  1. I return to my Fonn Ashayam in the bathing chamber from the sleeping quarters, to see two identically folded stacks of clothing, formerly worn.

    Hands folded behind my back, I regard the little neat piles of carefully folded garments. Identical, as we are, down to the order of placement.

    Shoes beneath, I know the socks are rolled tightly in the foothold. Then pants, undergarments hidden within.

    It occurs to me as I gaze fondly at them, that the other wearer no longer wears them.

    I turn, my body already responding.

    • Elegantly curved, pointed ears hear the familiar approaching steps, and while I am acutely aware of my exposed state, I do not make to cover myself.

      Identical in body, my Ashal_veh will witness nothing he does not possess himself…’covering’ would be needless, and thus illogical.

      This does not, however, prevent ear tips from shading a dark shade of jade as my uniform top is lifted, and placed atop the neat pile.

      I turn carefully towards my T’hy’la, meeting his gaze, inclining my head minutely.

      • Any physician I have ever encountered could inform you of the largest organ we possess.

        Our skin.

        I ache when, at last, his is revealed to me, standing solemnly at my side.

        Every corpuscle of my skin yearns for his. My gaze is reverent, but fiercely possessive. This is mine. He belongs to me.

        I reach for my most prized possession, the heart at his side.

        My abru-nalatra* * becomes even further engorged with emerald blood. I lead him, running my fingers from his side, to the small of his back.

        * * Erectile tissue

  2. As revealed as I am, his heavy gaze serves to leave me feeling impossibly further exposed, my breath stilling.

    I feel my body respond of its own accord to the absolute awareness that this sight is for his eyes only.

    I quiver near imperceptibly, my heart rapid beneath his touch, a trail of heat following as his hand moves to gently lead me, the contact alone enlightening us both of the others responses.

    Just before the shower, the hand is removed. For now, this is as far as things will extend.

    “Thank you,” a quiet, somewhat wavered utterance, studying his gaze…before nodding lightly, and stepping in beneath the cascading water.

    • It is becoming increasingly difficult to abstain from my Fonn Ashayam. I find myself clenching & releasing my hands in frustration, though my face remains without expression.

      Emotions run deep within our race. Within us two, even more so, due to our duality.

      This evening, unlike those prior, I am unable to stop myself from following the slope of Sochya’s buttocks where they meet hamstrings.

      Unable, or unwilling, I do not know.

      I only know my body is leading me to him, as though he were a Compass Star, and I? A-ship without functional navigational apparatus.

      I allow the water to simultaneously adhere and separate my form and the curve of his.

      • I tilt my chin upwards, eyes gently closed as the water caresses every inch of my form, endeavoring to regather shaken control.

        Droplets cling to dark lashes, lips, strands of silken hair as steam rises, saturating the air itself with heated moisture.

        I breathe deeply, and yet for all my efforts, my thoughts linger on my Ashal-veh, the sight of him, the manner in which he affects me…. every nerve ending within my body yearning for—thoughts come to a near stuttered halt at the press of a familiar body, our dual touch-telepathy all but humming through my veins in approval of the contact.

        “T’hy’la…” A whisper of brushing fingers.

  3. Each precious emotion of my Sa-kai seeps through his pores. His body speaks to me as I touch him:

    Gently, T’Naehm…but all is yours. Do with me what you will. I have given you my heart. Bloody it, if you so desire, only do so with love. Adore me.”

    I sharply inhale at the telepathic transmittal even as I am immediately warmed. I place a hand boldly near his temple, and I send my own response:

    No one presented with such a priceless treasure,such a precious gift, could possibly fail to bestow anything less than what you desire, my Fonn Ashayam.”

    I replace digits with lips. The water mingles with the slightly salted flavor of his skin. My voice takes up our effortless mental melody “However.”

    I allow a graveled quality to give my words a sonorous quality. “While the choice of words is fitting-”

    I trace the path of water down the flat plane of his stomach to just above Sochya’s erect Lok* * and I continue “these are things which I have no right to possess…or even utter. Yet.”

    * *Male sex organ

    • My Ashal-veh’s mental voice is not unlike a caress, echoed and felt deep within the core of my being, warming me as I sink into the feel of our contact.

      A flutter of nerves circles the lining of my stomach as his hand travels along my flesh, muscles quivering, Sa-kai’s spoken words like a promise that threatens to inspire more than a shiver.

      My engorged Lok twitches, as if seeking, a quiet groan passing my lips. Yet.

      “My words stand, Ashal-veh,” I breathe, “regardless of when you elect to own their significance in their entirety.”

      • From my stance behind my D’ewka Sasu* *, I raise both of his arms out to either side.

        I place his palms on the wet and porous pseudoslate walls. Pressing his palms flat, I then trace beneath strong, lean triceps to the damp hair of his armpits, and further down to embrace his ribs.

        “You miscalculate my meaning and intentions, Sa-Kai.” I incline my head to press my lips to his spinal column,just below the hairline.

        “I own, indeed. Sufficiently.”

  4. Possessiveness, ownership, adoration…all things that flow through me via my contact with T’Naehm, a tremor coursing along the length of my spine once he has positioned me to his liking, his hands emphasizing, acquainting with what they have never touched ‘bare’.

    I dip my head forward, gathering in scattered thoughts, counting our shared breaths.

    “Not unlike…a Trensu* *?”

    …My Trensu…

    Illogical that my body would respond to a single term, yet the increase within my pulse could not be idly written off.

    * * Master

    • Sochya S’chn Spock elicits a sudden sharp intake in me that could be construed as a gasp.

      Since we are surrounded by water, and one cannot consistently inhale water without drowning, I clear my throat twice to expel the fluid.

      Still the pleasant, almost electric shock of his verbage is transferred back to him from me, at once.

      A continuous loop of information, ideas, and intimacy of an intellectual varietal.

      My fingers dimple his skin. I purr deeply into the pointed ear of my Ashalik

      “I cherish your zotch’qla* *, my Taluhk Kafeh***.”

      * *Brain
      ***Precious Slave

      • Unseen electricity dances along each touch-sensitive nerve ending I possess, my breath catching within my throat at T’Naehm’s response, zings of various stimulating emotions, thoughts, and intimacy passing between us via contact.


        Illogical, and yet a telepathic mind pleasantly hums, digits curling against the tile, noting that my body is all but presently supported by my Ashal-veh’s arms.

        Another small sound at the back of my throat.

        “I am yours, Trensu.” Trust. Unlike the kind known by Terrans. And he possesses mine.

  5. I turn to my Ashalik to nod my assent & agreement to his thoughts as they pervade my being.

    One could liken it to an inoculation if the thoughts, hopes & desires were not an integral part of my being.

    One cannot be infected by one’s own mind, yet it feels precisely so.

    I am lead to speculate as my hands traverse the expanse of Fonn Ashayam’s skin,manipulating cleansing foam into lather.

    • A comfortable silence falls between my Sa-kai and I. Spoken words unnecessary given our continual contact.

      It is as though our souls are in reflective communion, all shared between them.

      I gather cleansing foam into my palm, meeting Trensu’s gaze as if in inquiry. A request for permission.

      Only then do my hands travel with quiet reverence over his form, committing to memory as we cleanse.

      • My betrothed asks permission of me with his eyes, but 1.3 seconds later, his touch conveys mental imagery that has not occurred.

        The tips of Petakov’s* * ears & zygomatic*** arches dust verdantly. My head inclines as I observe his reaction to his meticulous actions.

        He…is not exhibiting a sense of shame, but…arousal at his own cinematic mind.


        In the eyes of anyone he meets, he is quite an innocent Vulcan. Yet I cannot help but understand there is a mischievous facet to my jewel. An impishness.

        Is he the proverbial Angel, or a little Devil at my very feet?

        * *Darling
        ***Fooled you. Not Vulcan. Medical Terran, meaning cheekbones

  6. I realize that any other individual within my time period would advise caution. State that T’Naehm is not like any other within this universe.

    A dangerous world, a different dimension, and yet..since his arrival my eyes have opened to a number of aspects, matters, and territories my mind would have never crossed otherwise.

    A comprehension of a -true- balance.

    War & Peace.

    Unlike others aboard this ship, I…understand him.

    Browns meet a unfathomable mirror pair.
    My other half.
    I would risk all for him.

    • I am grateful my Kafeh elected the traditional option for his shower rather than that of the Sonic nature.

      I doubt the sensory capacity with which we would be able to communicate without the natural conductor called water.

      The powerful ebb & flow of my betrothed fascinates Sa-kai’s increasingly graphic cinematic mental images nearly overwhelm me, causing me to steady myself against the pseudoslate with a monosyllabic grunt.

      Every maneuver of his hands seem to pervade and override my reason. I feel like I am there, somehow?

      Deeply lodged within his mind-scape of Things We Have Yet to Do. Of Things I Can Barely Wait to Accomplish.

      • Touch-sensitive hands chase suds all along heated flesh as the water is utilized to rinse my Ashal-veh clean, stilling only when he is done, noting just how far my thoughts and visual imaginings have traveled.

        Ear tips dust a somewhat dark shade of jade, yet there is no shame present in it as I step towards Trensu, encircling his middle with my arms, resting my forehead gently to his.

        An intimate gesture upon our late planet, breathes intermingling as I absorb and share responses.

        Fascinating how one shower between us could become so…transcendental? Another plane of intimate connection that we had not yet visited. Near hypnotic, in essence.

  7. Even after my Taluhk Kafeh has completed his self-appointed task, with a thoroughness that rendered me incapacitated as if I were phasered on the “stun” setting.

    I am yet at the ready, my Lok yet unflagged. Willing and able.

    Each inch of my sa-kan* * is soaped by my hand. He writhes under my touch, but I must be strong when he is weak.

    As he is, when I am.

    I chide him gently “If we do not finish our cleansing we will be tardy guests. When has a Vulcan ever been anything but punctual?”

    Even if we alone were invited, I add silently.

    * * Boy

    • My T’hy’la is, naturally, correct, yet I…

      The affect of the coil of want that had tightened within my chest was nearly dizzying, inspiring a deep-seated yearning from within me.

      Skin desiring the feel of his, mind desiring the brush of his, my Lok yet attentive and seeking…

      The truth of his words soon settle, however, and the unease felt earlier in regards to our evening plans beings to return.


      It is indeed time to truly ready ourselves for this evening.

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