Payback's A Bitch?

The art of life lies in taking pleasures as they pass, and the keenest pleasures are not intellectual, nor are they always moral.  ~ Aristippus

“Spock,” Jim’s soft voice was saying as Spock slowly began to surface. Jim was laying tight up against Spock’s body, his fingers pulling through Spock’s hair. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Spock responded, one eye opening to see Jim smiling at him. Spock reached out his hand toward Jim, pleased to encounter bare flesh.

“I need to leave in half an hour,” Jim whispered into Spock’s exposed ear. “That gives us just enough time.”

“For what?” Spock asked innocently. “A game of chess?”

His question was answered with a laugh. “I had a game of a different sort in mind.”

“I see,” Spock said, rolling onto his side to better see Jim. “Are there rules to this game?”

“You don’t even have to move except for laying on your stomach,” Jim told him with a gleam in his eyes.

“My active participation is not required?” Spock asked.

“Nope. I’ll just use your body for my own purposes,” Jim said seductively. “What do you think of that plan?”

“If I am lying on my stomach, you will not be able to provide reciprocation.”

“What makes you think I care?” Jim teased, pulling Spock’s shoulder to get him to lay flat. “I’m paying you for my pleasure, not yours.”

“I cannot argue that,” Spock said, spreading his legs apart when he was face down. “However, I am not without means of retribution.”

“Payback’s a bitch?” Jim asked, biting Spock in a line down to his backside.

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, squirming from the sensations Jim was causing to run through him. When Jim’s mouth reached Spock’s ass, he sucked a mark into his skin, a darkening splotch that would be visible for several days. “Are you part vampire?”

“Nope,” Jim assured him, licking over the bruise he had created. “Want to remind you that I was here.”

“A tattoo would be far too permanent,” Spock agreed, bending his right knee to provide additional access.

Jim laughed, the light puffs of air breezing over Spock’s skin, goosebumps raising in reaction. Jim licked him again, progressing toward the crease that almost hid the target of Jim’s exploration. When Spock lifted his hips in silent invitation, Jim accepted and swiped over Spock’s opening. Spock’s reaction was predictable but no less delicious. His moans came from deep in his throat and Jim knew if his Vulcan control were any weaker, Spock would be pleading for more.

Jim rimmed him until his own erection could take no more teasing. He was certain Spock was equally aroused, a hand under Spock’s stomach confirming Spock’s state.

“You….uhm…cannot touch me if…you do not ….uhhh….plan to finish that which you have started,” Spock panted, his Vulcan restraint weakening even more from Jim’s attentions.

“That won’t be a problem,” Jim assured him, rolling onto his side and pulling Spock with him. “Can you reach the lube?”

Spock moaned but reached over for it, giving the bottle to Jim with a shaky hand. He lifted his right leg as he waited, wishing Jim would be a little less cautious and hurry up. “Please,” Spock whispered, rocking from the urgency that was continuing to build in his body, especially in his lower stomach and groin.

“Shh…” Jim soothed. “Relax.”

“I do not need to relax any further,” Spock said breathlessly. “What I need is you.”

Jim laughed softy at his words, entering Spock’s receptive body with two well-oiled fingers. “There.”

“It is a good beginning,” Spock said, straining to look over his shoulder at Jim. “Your erection would be an excellent middle.”

“And the ending?” Jim asked, opening Spock carefully.

“I do not believe I need to explain how we both want this to end,” Spock said, moaning at the loss when Jim slipped his fingers out.

“No. No explanation necessary,” Jim agreed, guiding his erection into Spock’s body.

Spock’s breath hitched at the pleasure Jim was creating for them both. It felt beyond incredible for Spock to have Jim inside his body, the leisurely pace so enjoyable, so different in comparison to the frenzied movements of most of his clients. Jim was making certain the sensations he was creating were not solely his.

The additional warmth from Spock’s Vulcan physiology added to the pleasure racing through Jim from being encased in Spock’s receptive body. Jim tried to take it slowly, not wanting to rush through their copulation. Jim flinched mentally at that word – it sounded so… clinical. But could it be termed making love? Having sex sounded like they were sharing an item on the menu. I’ll have the baked Alaska with a side of fornication. The whole idea of labeling the act was bothersome to him, and yet he could not imagine why he was considering it.

“I have access to your thoughts,” Spock said softly, looking over his shoulder at Jim. “Is your mind always consumed with actively categorizing your actions?”

Jim felt an unwelcome blush rise at the question. “I’m s-s-s-sorry,” Jim said, resting his forehead between Spock’s shoulder blades. The rhythm of his right hand caressing Spock’s very firm cock picked up speed, distracting Spock from the fact that Jim had not answered his question, which was Jim’s intent.

Jim concentrated on nothing other than the luxury of  Spock’s body, his soft moans of confirmation that Jim was not alone in his state of bliss. They were both inhabiting that warm, inviting place occupied only on those rare occasions when it all worked, when two bodies were in harmony to make one being.

Spock was producing enough glistening pre-come to make any artificial lubrication redundant, easing Jim’s hand in its path up and down, up and down Spock’s need. Circling the tip of his erection with the pad of his thumb brought gasps of approval, Spock rocking back against Jim to increase the amount of hot skin in contact.

“I’m…mmm…ready….t-t-t-to come,” Jim whispered. “D-d-d-do you want me t-t-t-to pull out?”

Spock shook his head, clinching his tight muscles around the cock filling, satisfying him, making him want more, greedily want it all.

Jim bit down on Spock’s shoulder, erupting within him and distracting him from the delicious pain of Jim’s teeth marking his flesh. The twin assault sent Spock over the edge, his body trembling from the intensity of the orgasm and the efforts Jim was making to give as much as he received.

They were both panting for air, Spock rolling onto his back, Jim oozing over onto him, nearly melting into the warmer body.

“You should consider charging more,” Jim said between gasps.

“You should consider changing professions,” Spock replied, his fingers threading through the golden brown hair that was just that much too short.

“Mmm…no. I’ll let you be the professional. I’ll keep my amateur status,” Jim said, licking the sweat-slick skin under his cheek. One finger traced the magic trail of hair from Spock’s navel to the curls covering his groin, dipping into that damp patch to feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Do you always stutter when you are in the act?” Spock asked quietly, his knowledgeable fingers massaging Jim’s scalp to provide him a sense of peace and security.

“Yeah,” Jim admitted reluctantly. “I used to stutter when I was younger. I saw a speech therapist and learned to control it. But I can’t when I’m having sex.”

“I see,” Spock said, considering this fact. “Is this one reason you were the victim of bullying?”

“One of them. I was also smaller and slower. Until I started running. That helped level it out,” Jim said.

“Running is preferable to fighting,” Spock said as though he had been told that himself.

“I could more than hold my own in a fight. But I got tired of being blamed so I started running,” Jim said.

“Indeed,” Spock said, gently stroking Jim’s cheek.

“Well,” Jim said as he slowing and reluctantly sat up, untangling their limbs and forcing himself to relinquish the warm contact with the body under him. “I need to get in the shower.”

“Do you require assistance?” Spock asked, looking up at him with a gleam of naughtiness in his eyes.

“I’d like that. But I need to shower and dress in short order. Your assistance would slow things down,” Jim reminded him with a smile.

“Yes,” Spock agreed. “I will take a dip in your pool when you have showered.”

“There are no lifeguards on duty on Sunday,” Jim joked as he left the bed, the touch of Spock’s eyes nearly tangible as he watched Jim move about the bedroom.

“I will be careful,” Spock promised.

Jim was still laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom. As predicted, he returned in short order, the towel still scrubbing through his hair. He knew Spock was watching as he dressed in causal pants and a chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

“I take it you approve,” Jim replied in response to the hunger in Spock’s eyes.

“I am in no position to either approve or disapprove,” Spock claimed, making Jim laugh again.

“Okay. Sulu will be here at 11 to take you to Dodger Stadium.”

“I will be ready. How will I find you once we arrive?”

“Sulu will know where to drop you. I’ll meet you outside with the passes. I intended to bring them with me yesterday but I forgot,” Jim said, shrugging. “Order breakfast from room service.”

“I know that you will check to make certain.”

“You are right about that,” Jim agreed. “And the stadium has an astounding variety of food so you’ll have plenty of choices. Some days they even have Vulcan food.”

“I am not concerned,” Spock said.

“All right. I’ll see you about 11:30 or so,” Jim said, wishing he could stay. But he needed to get to the office, to make sure he was ready for his meeting with Pike, as well as preparing for more negotiations with another potential partner.

“I will see you then,” Spock agreed.

With a final backward glance, Jim left the bedroom and the suite, arriving in short order in the lobby. He was crossing the marble floor with its ridiculous shine when the staccato march of high heels warned of her approach.

“Mister Kirk,” Uhura said, one eyebrow arched in clear disapproval.

“Ms Uhura,” he responded, waiting.

“Were you intending to inform us that you are no longer alone in the penthouse?” she asked in a hard voice.

“We dispensed with this yesterday,” Jim reminded her. “Why are we discussing it again?”

“The Beverly Hills Wiltshire is unaccustomed to hosting whores,” she told him, her voice icy cold.

He grasped her by the elbow and directed her to a less traveled area of the lobby. “Mr. Spock is my guest,” he told her in a deathly quiet voice. “His profession is of no concern of yours. And if you ever, ever insult an acquaintance of mine again, you will be searching for a new profession.” He stared at her with frozen eyes, waiting a long moment of thunderous silence. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear,” she whispered, her eyes downcast, unable to look at him any longer.

“If I hear that you even considered treating Mr. Spock with anything less than the type of courtesy with which you would treat me, I will have you fired.”

“I understand,” she said, clearing her throat. “And I apologize.”

He nodded and left the hotel without looking back.

Sulu had the door to the town car open, knowing from the look on Jim’s face that conversation was not currently welcome. Sulu content himself with driving downtown because he did not need to ask what had happened. He already knew.

Comments

[misscharisma]

I am really enjoying this story. Can't wait for more.