Indiscrete Adventures
How long can a woman shop? I ask myself as I follow them to yet another storefront. I stagger my steps as I see Beverly hesitate until she is dragged, a little reluctantly it seems to me- into another..what the hell? Gods! Not another candle store!
I've been shopping with Beverly before, and thought that was bad enough. But the counselor has got to be the champion in this area. I shake my head as I wonder how Will does it. Maybe it's those hidden talents we all assume the Betazoid has, but never really see.
Carefully, I make my way to the window and peak my head around casually to see where they are situated. I quickly assess that Deanna is out of range, and decide to take action. Beverly has got to be ready for a break by now. Entering the store, I turn to the first table.
Momentarily, I forget my objective in the face of what I see displayed before me. Interested, I lightly finger the waxy representations of former Federation Presidents. Hmmm...the lines indicate an artist trying to copy the extinct Araen sand sculptures of the 6th clade.
A familiar scent reaches my nose over the strong smell of the wax shop. Recognition causes me to stop, and look to find my original purpose for being here giving me a knowing look and a nod. I acknowledge her, and silently slip out of the shop.
Surveying my options as I stroll, I see some small buildings of some sort near the end of the boardwalk near the beach. Altering my course some, I head towards them trying not to peer anxiously over my shoulder to see if she is following me.
Reaching the building, I stop and bend over slightly, appearing to inspect the native vegetation. I really don't see what I'm looking at - my mind is totally focused on why it's taking Beverly so long to get here. It's seems like it's been hours since I last touched her...tasted her...too long.
I alter my position slightly to give me more room in my suddenly too tight shorts. Looking down, I'm mortified to see that my state is readily apparent to any who care to observe. Averting my gaze from a situation I can do nothing about at the moment, I am relieved to see the one person who might be willing to help me out. If I ask nicely enough...
My heart speeds up as she steps nearer. Taking her hand, I quickly look around to make sure there are no witnesses before I lean in for a soft kiss.
She breaks away, leaning back to say something which I barely register as a thank you. Reaching down, I run my hand across the sensitive area below her rear in an attempt to coax her into the non-verbal form of gratitude I would prefer.
Instantly, my arms are full of an insistent Beverly Crusher, and it's all I can do to keep my balance as she wraps a leg around my hip. Falling against the cabana wall for support, I take a second to meet her assault before countering with one of my own.
Hoisting her up off the ground slightly, I turn to back her against the wall. Tactically, it seems like a good idea to me, but then the falling sensation clues me into the folly it is.
Momentarily, our interlude stalls as we look each other over for injuries. Inspection over, and we're back at it. Pushing her up against the door, I go back to the interrupted attack I was making before our little mishap. Bringing my head down as I lift her shirt up, I take a breast into my mouth. Sucking noisily, I taste not only her, but the sweat that is rolling off me in waves. Damn...it's hot in here.
Realization dawns on my as I feel a breeze on my lower half...she has removed my shorts. Looking down, I place my hand under her skirt and thread my fingers into the side of her panties. I tug once...damn...gritting my teeth I tug again as hard as I can.
Changing my tactics, I start to roll them down her tan, shapely legs, then off over her slender ankles. Holding them up, I smile at my small victory before throwing them over my shoulder.
In a blur of lust, I hoist her up against the wall again entering her in one hard thrust. Noticing that she doesn't seem to mind the rough handling, I push hard and fast, slamming every inch of me in and out at a furious pace.
My mind spinning with the euphoria of being in her, my vision starts to tunnel and darken at the edges until I feel the tell- tale clenching of soft, wet muscles around me. With a final move in, I come on her subsiding waves.
*******
Looking out over the ocean, I try to keep an amused smile at bay. I know I shouldn't find it funny, but the look on Beverly's face when she discovered just where her panties had ended up...
A voice startles me, and I look to see not Beverly, but Will Riker . Damn...and Beverly is still in the cabana.
Seeing the door start to crack, I put my hand on Will's shoulder turning him away from Beverly's eminent exit while trying to make casual conversation. Strolling slowly down the boardwalk then back again, we talk of inconsequential things, the ship, plans for the evening, until we reach the place of our beginning.
As I'm about to answer Will's query about meeting for dinner at his place, I notice the first officer seems to be distracted. Following his gaze out to where the sea meets the sand, I see what so captivates him. Beverly's dress blowing gently, the fabric moving in such a way as to disclose the absence of any undergarments. He can see her naked rear. I can't blame him for gawking. I'm a little flustered at what I see myself - not that I haven't seen it before; I'm just not used to there being an audience.
Quickly making my way towards my enticing sea nymph, I toss a hasty acceptance to his invitation hoping against hope that this little incident was either unobserved or that Riker is a gentleman and says nothing.
Yeah...right.
Gathering Beverly to me, we make a break for it. Not an obvious escape --- no running --- just a faster than casual walk. Approaching near, but not too close, we notice that Deanna has now joined the still- smiling Will Riker. Whispering to Beverly to keep walking, I can feel the two pairs of eyes follow us until we turn the corner to our hotel.
*******
Damn...there...she's doing it again. She does this to drive me mad. I know it. She knows it. I love it.
Smiling to myself, I walk by the bathroom door again. At this point, I'm pretty obvious in what I'm doing. Staring, gawking...peeping Tom comes to mind. Straightening my posture, I return to the couch. I can resist. I will resist. Damn...why's she bending over that way?
Turning my head away again in what will probably be another short lived attempt to contain myself, I hear Beverly call to me from the bathroom. Hmmm...underwear...okay. I can do that. I am a starship Captain after all.
Making my way to the bureau, I set the bottle of wine and some glasses down as I open the top drawer. Inside, I see there are a myriad of colors, textures, and styles to choose from. Diving my hand into the drawer, I come up with a pair of pale blue ones. Nice, but I better not. Too close to the same color as the ones that met an untimely death earlier today.
Tossing them to the side of the drawer, I spy another pair. They appear to be the same color as the wine we are drinking. Yes...they're the ones. Reaching to the left to grab them, my elbow encounters a hard object. Watching, as if in slow motion, the almost full bottle of 47 Merlot tumbles into the side that contains Beverly's underwear.
Acting as quickly as I can, I rush my other hand to help the clumsy first one, and it too meets with unrealized resistance as I knock one of the wine glasses in with the bottle.
"Merde!" I exclaim as I try to mop up the dark liquid with whatever cloth I can find.
Looking into the drawer, both hands clutching underwear soaked in wine and the rest of the undergarments looking equally unsalvageable, I hear Beverly call my name. No doubt she has heard all the commotion. Dropping the panties in the drink with the rest, I fish the wine bottle out in the hopes that maybe, there is enough left for the glass Beverly is going to need after she sees what I've done.
No such luck.
*******
Being the pragmatic and sensible man that I am, I beat a hasty retreat for Will's room and dinner. Not a total retreat, just a...a regrouping if you will. I plan a counterattack later that will make up for all the day's wrongs.
Sitting on the floor, as per the evening's Japanese motif, I assume, I listen with half an ear as the senior staff joke and talk amongst themselves. I am really waiting for the knock that will signal Beverly's arrival. I wonder how she solved her little problem? She'll probably be wearing pants. What a shame. I really love seeing her shapely legs.
The knock on the door makes me tense a little, and the worry of revenge crosses my mind...but I consciously make myself relax. What can she possibly do in a roomful of people, anyway?
My breath gets caught at the sight of her in the doorway, and I wonder if the feeling I get when she enters a room will ever go away. It's been twenty five years, and it hasn't happened yet. Thank God.
The dress she has on is basically the same type as earlier, but in a different color. Everyone offers greetings of welcome as she starts her graceful movement to the seating area. Before anyone can move to let her in, she comes over to the table and starts to step over. Seeing her intention, I give her my hand as added support and guidance.
With the touch of my hand to hers, her movement slows down to a crawl. My eyes travel from where we are connected over the smooth expanse of dress as it expands and contracts with the movement of it's owner over the curve of her stomach...down past the place where the fabric forms a v in accordance with the specific contours found there...down to where tan skin emerges from colored fabric...what the!
I am momentarily shocked to total stillness as the swoosh of Beverly's dress reveals how the good doctor solved the problem of her wine soaked undergarments. I feel the heat of my blood as it rushes in two directions at once...north to infuse my face with color...and south where it fills and stretches my flesh to uncomfortable proportions.
Beverly continues over and takes her seat all while I try to calm my treacherous body with its urge to take what it wants. Who would have thought two people as apparently repressed as us, once together, would find it almost impossible to resist the temptation of the flesh that we 'do it' whenever and wherever the mood strikes us?
Feeling not only Beverly's eyes upon me as she inspects for signs of weakness in my composure- which I'm sure was her goal- I look up to see Riker wearing his 'I know what you don't want me to know' grin. Internally, I inspect my facial muscles, and find that they are all contracting in the correct manner as to project the 'in charge' captain look that I have perfected over the years. Stalemate for now.
Unfortunately, the balance of power doesn't stay neutral for the entire meal, and shifts irreversibly in favor of the 'enemy'. Another retreat is in order.
*******
Following Beverly down the hall, I try to discern her mood by the gait of her walk. I'm usually pretty good at this sort of thing, but then her sudden stop, turn and query catch me off guard.
My answer is off the top of my head, and it's unthought out nature appears to anger her more. Suddenly, I am hit with the ridiculousness of this entire situation. We are two grown people for God's sake! And here we are running around, hiding, lying, and embarrassed to think that the people that are closest to us 'might' know that we are sleeping together. Hell, with where the betting pool stands now, most of the senior staff stands to make a bundle on the revelation of the true nature of our relationship.
Trying to keep the humor from my face, I try in vain to suppress the laughter that demands expression. Eventually it ends up coming out in low, rolling chuckles.
Not amused at all, Beverly turns on her heel and marches straight for the 'lift. It's not hard for me to tell her mood now...she's mad. However, a angry Beverly has never deterred me before...well, that's not quite true, but not this time- I walk right behind her.
She waits for the 'lift- I wait close behind her...close enough that I can see her hair move with every breath I exhale. She's ignoring me, and I try to think of what I can say to bring her round.
I barely utter her name when the 'lift doors open and she enters. Suddenly she spins around, and I have to stop where I am and catch the doors as they try to close. I watch her face as in one instant, her anger and embarrassment over the situation is clearly etched. Then, watch as her features morph and coalesce with the knowledge of how absurd this all really is.
Stepping inside, I move forward and envelope her in my arms. I hold her until I feel the last hiccups of mirth subside, and she starts to talk. Moving back slightly, I take her face in my hands telling her what I think, but not what I feel. It seems that words are inadequate to portray such emotions. I love her. So much so, that sometimes I think the feeling will smother me with it's totality.
As the emotion consumes me, she is there...her lips are soft, and sweet, and warm as they move gently against mine. As the fire starts to ignite, and race along my veins, she breaks off with a whisper and a tug on my hand, leading me out of the 'lift and down the hall.
After a few feet, I come to my senses. Stopping, I pull her roughly back against me searing my lips to hers, and pressing my need against her fulfiller. Moving backwards, I figure now seems like a perfect time for some rough and ready sex in the 'lift. Who's repressed now?
End