Dawn of the Federation Book I : Tomorrow Never Knows
Chapter 1: Midnight Confessions

Copyright© 2015 by The Slim Rhino

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Midnight Confessions - Before I tried my hand at original stories, I've been dabbling in Star Trek fanfiction for six years, mainly the early noughts series "Enterprise", which could have been so great without Berman and Braga ruining it. This is my Magnum Opus in the field. I've been working on it since 2009 and it is still active, at currently around 300K words. It starts directly after the late season four episode "Bound" and goes AU from there. It describes the lives of Commander T'Pol and Charles Tucker III.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fan Fiction   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Space   Aliens   Oral Sex   Workplace   Nudism  

They were walking out of sickbay and T'Pol was trying to think of a way to start a conversation with the man walking beside her, but nothing really came to her mind. She was not well versed in talking about intimate aspects of her life, as this was usually not done on Vulcan. Ensign Sato, however, had made it clear that this was her last chance to win back the heart of the chief engineer. She had to act or he would return to Columbia and all that remained would be disturbing and thoroughly dissatisfying encounters in the white nothingness of her mind in meditation.

"Guess we proved it again," she heard him say.

"Proved what?" T'Pol asked in reply, still thinking about how to direct the conversation to the urgent topic of his continued presence aboard Enterprise.

"That you and I make a helluva team," the engineer answered.

"We seem to work well together."

"Even more, now that we're in each other's head," he added nonchalantly, apparently oblivious to the importance of this development.

There was one little detail about the bond that T'Pol had not disclosed earlier. For him it was just a series of seemingly sporadic daydreams, which drew him into her white space, but for her the bond was a much stronger connection. Since humans had latent, weak telepathic abilities at best, and even those existed in only in very few specimens, the bond in its early stages was almost a one-way connection.

About a week before she had noticed sporadically erupting emotions, which seemingly came out of nowhere. Soon she had observed that their occurrence matched exactly the pattern of Commander Tucker's behavior. Whenever he had an emotional outburst or made his trademark jokes, T'Pol felt his emotions as a resonance in her own mind whenever they were strong enough. This had led to the realization that there was a connection between them and their history left only one candidate – a mating bond.

It was soon time to explain to him the full ramifications of this fact, before he returned to Columbia. As she heard him talk about 'being in each other's head' – a typically crude human metaphor – she also noticed that he experienced a mix of positive emotions at the time, calming her fears that the subject of her desire would be afraid of the unusual connection.

"You're returning to Columbia?" she asked, carefully hiding her insecurity.

"I imagine Captain Hernandez is getting pretty antsy to have her Chief Engineer back."

She saw right through the statement, but was surprised and disconcerted that she picked up no trace of emotional response. He was either completely indifferent or kept his emotions in check, which she had not witnessed too often so far.

"There are still numerous repairs to be carried out here."

"I think Kelby can handle them." The engineer dismissed her sentiment, fueling her worries that he seemed intent to leave Enterprise. "He's been observing my work pretty carefully, when he wasn't trying to blow up the ship."

He still gave no indication of an emotional response and a suspicion formed in T'Pol's mind. He seemed to be doing what he had done so often – engaging in an argument to trick her into admitting something or telling him something in a way he wanted to hear it. A long time ago Ensign Sato had explained that this process was called 'teasing' and generally a sign of affection. Only humans would come up with a sign of affection that could become annoying. It was entirely possible, then, that he was using his arguments for his return to Columbia as a ruse to inveigle her into asking him to stay.

When her female friend, the ship's communications officer, had explained about the custom of teasing, she had also mentioned that the humans often expected the 'favor to be returned'. That was why T'Pol had developed a certain competitiveness in their friendly banter. She was not willing to give him an easy win.

"Kelby is a fine engineer, but he lacks experience," she said and a short wave of annoyance washed through the bond, indicating that his emotional nature had got the better of him – proving her suspicion.

He stopped and she came to halt not too far from him. "Why don't you just say it?" Trip asked, visibly impatient.

"Say what?" She feigned ignorance and started to enjoy this when she saw his slight exasperation. Obviously, the Commander could not eat what he dished out – as Ensign Sato used to say – at least not today. It was not often that she won one of their arguments.

"That you want me to come back," he said and she could easily sense that he was disappointed she had not offered it on her own.

"I believe I did," the Vulcan answered with an innocently raised eyebrow. "I believe that your presence here would be extremely beneficial to our operations."

"No, that you want me back," he demanded and annoyance now resonated through the bond very clearly and strongly.

"I don't know what you mean," she lied, and regretted it immediately. The mixture of hurt, anger and sadness almost drew a visible response from her and she knew instantly that she had gone too far. She might have gotten better at bantering, but she was still clumsy in her interactions with humans whenever she tried her hand at purely human ways of socializing. Again she had failed to stop before he was seriously displeased.

"My mistake. See you around," he sighed in visible disappointment. And turned to go,

The only logical conclusion was to deliver what he had wanted to hear; to undo the damage she had inadvertently done. "Wait, Trip," she called out, knowing that her use of his nickname would make him at least listen. As she had noticed a long time ago, this was the most effective method to get his full attention, since she so rarely did it.

"I want you to come back," she admitted. If she did not concede defeat now, in this small struggle, then it was all too clear that she would lose the entire war, as the human expression put it.

"Then I'll think about it," he answered and turned to go again.

'Thinking about it' still left a fifty per cent chance of the answer being 'No'. Suddenly that thought caused panic and fear of losing him again, and there was not much time to react; so she decided to convey the message in an unmistakable manner – she had to show him why she wanted him to come back.

"Trip!" she called after him with more urgency, then took the couple of steps necessary to catch up with him and kissed the surprised engineer passionately.

Nothing had prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that she picked up now that they were in intense contact. Getting faint transmissions through the bond was one thing; now, due to the Vulcan's inherent touch telepathy, it was a torrent of conflicting passions that caught her completely unprepared.

Love, desire and longing warred with sadness, hurt and anger with a most frightening intensity. But before she broke the kiss and struggled to regain her composure, she also noticed an undercurrent of mischief and satisfaction. Something was afoot.

He gently wiped his hand along his lips and smiled mischievously as he revealed the reason behind his satisfaction. "Three days ago, I told Captain Hernandez that I wanted a transfer back to Enterprise."

"Three days ago," T'Pol answered in barely suppressed indignation. He had tricked her!

"I realized this is where I was meant to be, and this thing between us, isn't that big a deal."

T'Pol could easily detect that he deliberately belittled the importance of their bond and the very unmistakable public admission of her desire. He wanted to provoke her into convincing him of the opposite. The ball was in her court, as Captain Archer had once told Ambassador Soval.

"Agreed." she replied, hiding that she had seen through his seemingly unconcerned reply.

"Guess we gotta lot of work to do," he remarked with an impertinent grin before disappearing around the corner.

T'Pol walked to her quarters with a still very elevated eyebrow. Finally she had admitted the existence of the bond to the ship's chief engineer and although the latest round of banter had resulted in a crushing defeat, she was relieved that she had Trip back. The thought of his permanent departure had unsettled her for the last two weeks and she was almost grateful for the Klingon augments' sabotage that had necessitated his return. Quickly she pushed that thought down – it was illogical and unseemly.

With just minutes to go until midnight, Trip came home after a long day in engineering. Grimy, his uniform covered in scorch marks from exploding EPS conduits, he dragged his exhausted body into his cabin, making a bee line for the shower to get rid of the muck.

I can't believe she did that, he thought while letting the hot water wash off the dirt and sweat of a long day. Admitting that she wants me back was a big enough surprise, but planting a wet one on me – in a wide open corridor of all places! Dear God let it be serious this time, I can't take another push and I can't even transfer away if it happens again. Not after the stunt with my transfer to Columbia.

He had not had the time to process today's events, due to the carnage in engineering, but now the thoughts kept coming despite his fatigue. After cleaning himself, he went back to the main room in search of his sweatpants, but he was interrupted by the door chime. At this late an hour it could only be Jon with an invitation to one of the rare late-night live broadcasts of water polo. He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. But – unexpectedly – it was not his friend who was making a house call in the middle of the night.

"Good evening. I may have come at an inconvenient time..." He saw T'Pol stop dead in her tracks when she saw his wardrobe situation.

"Don't worry." He dismissed her hesitation and waved her to come in. "It's not like you haven't seen everything before."

"Indeed," she agreed and noticed that he had put on considerable muscle mass since their first - and so far last - disrobed encounter.

"What brings you here and what's in that bag?" Trip asked casually, and then without any sign of shyness dropped the towel to put on his pants.

T'Pol distracted herself from the urge to look at his physique by picking up his uniform and other pieces of clothing that he had dropped where they fell on his way to the shower. Trip nearly chuckled at her compulsive need to restore order and neatness.

"Resulting from recent events and findings, I believe it to be necessary to discuss something with you. The purpose of the bag will be explained in the process," she explained, once Trip had put on his pants.

"I'm dead tired," he said. "But I think you're right, it's best to talk some things out."

Inviting her to do so as well, he sat down on the bunk and waited for what she had to say.

"Based on my actions of today, you have most likely come to the conclusion that my interest in your return to Enterprise is not entirely motivated by professional reasons." It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that she had carefully rehearsed this little speech. Deep in his heart he knew how difficult it was for a Vulcan to speak about her most intimate thoughts.

"Unless you've developed a habit of motivating people with smooches," he joked with a smile.

She did not show much of a reaction to his quip, but he could see she had to stop her brow from climbing up on her features. "There are a number of reasons that prompted my actions and I wish to confess my motives. This will take a considerable amount of time, and therefore I shall not be offended if you ask me to defer it until you have had sufficient rest."

"Don't worry about my rest, T'Pol," Trip said dismissively and shook his head. "I've waited almost two years for you to finally tell me what the hell is going on between us - or not, for that matter. I'll stay awake even if it takes a week."

"Very well." She acquiesced with a nod and continued her narration. "Do you remember what happened when I was exposed to Trellium-D on the Seleya?"

"Sure as hell do. You completely lost it, and ever since then you've had the occasional emotional outburst. In fact, for quite a while I was afraid it had left some permanent damage."

"You are most perceptive. In fact it has left damage, but not in the way you would expect," she explained, and he felt a clenching sensation in his stomach. Was she ill?

"Is it bad?" he asked, and couldn't quite keep his worries from showing in his voice.

"Please hear the complete explanation," she continued and Trip nodded. "When the aftereffects of my Trellium-D exposure started to subside and only a mild influence was still left, I noticed that I could experience certain emotions, even though they are usually instinctively suppressed. Those were fascination, amusement, but also fear and anger."

His bad feeling got even worse, but he decided to refrain from interrupting. He knew the Vulcan well enough to see that she was talking about some things that weighed heavily on her.

"I wanted more of those emotions. I noticed that I fared better in my interactions with the crew – especially with you – and I hoped to become able to reciprocate the outward signs of affection that you displayed. So I began injecting micro-doses of Trellium-D into my bloodstream, which allowed me to access emotions at any time. Unfortunately I had not considered the possibility of becoming addicted."

Trip buried his face in his palms and sighed heavily. He couldn't believe she had been stupid enough to drug herself. When he looked back up, he saw that T'Pol displayed what must be the Vulcan equivalent of the deer-in-headlights look. Her shame and the fear of him sending her away were palpable.

"Do you still do it?" he asked, as calmly as he could in his shocked state.

"No," she answered, her eyes now downcast in obvious shame. "After I was almost killed during an attempt to reach the Trellium-D storage in the cargo bay on the damaged ship, I went to Dr. Phlox and sought medical help to overcome the addiction. The therapy was successful, but my ill-advised actions have caused permanent damage to my neuro-pathways."

He buried his face in his palms again. She was the science officer, for crying out loud. How could she do something so monumentally stupid? A spike of anger mixed into his disbelief.

"You messed up your own body to get close to me?" he asked in sheer bewilderment. "Hell, we were closer than any other two people on the ship! At least, that's what I thought. Way before the Seleya, you had become my best friend after Jon secluded himself from everyone."

"I think we both know that it wasn't a 'best friend' we were hoping to be," she said softly.

"We?" Trip's eyes went wide, his anger getting the better of him. "T'Pol, you kept pushing me away again and again. Hell, you even married that guy Koss! I know it was for your mother, but you never thought it was necessary to tell me that he released you from that mockery of a marriage. I learned about that from Jon. I don't get it, why did you shut me out if you wanted the same as I did? Why did you lie to me?"

Trip regretted his little outburst almost immediately when he was confronted by a sight that was new to him – her tears. She wasn't all-out bawling, but two silent tears running down the face of a Vulcan were an unsettling enough picture.

"Sorry," he whispered, ashamed of his impulsive reaction. He carefully moved his hand to her face and cupped her cheek. To his surprise she snuggled into his gentle touch.

"You have every right to be displeased," she replied in a small voice. "As I explained earlier, I did not only experience favorable emotions. Due to the damage that I had inflicted, I was no longer able to suppress all emotions instinctively. I was unable to deal with them. I was confused and scared. Those unsettling emotions and my inability to make sense of them were the driving forces behind the many wrong decisions I made in connection with you. I was afraid of losing control and damaging you."

"You would never hurt me," he claimed with conviction. The picture of the woman who was now plainly enjoying the touch of his hand, trying to hurt him physically did not fit together in his mind.

"What changed?" he asked, edging closer to her. "Looks to me like you finally smelled the cordite and decided to 'fess up."

T'Pol, momentarily confused by his strange metaphor (after all, cordite was known to have no smell), continued her explanation. "The first important event was when I spoke to my counterpart on the Enterprise from the other time line."

"W-wait-a-minute," he stammered in surprise. "You talked to ... yourself? Why didn't you or Lorian tell me that you ... she ... the other you was still alive?"

"She asked the Captain not to tell you. My older self was afraid of seeing you again and then losing you a second time."

Trip gulped and – a very rare event – was speechless at the raw emotion emanating through her voice. He continued to listen to her recollection.

"She explained to me that you were the key to mastering those emotions. When I was prepared to make the final step, we were on Vulcan, but I spare you the pain of reminding you in detail of the events. You were there."

"Roger that," Trip sighed.

"The grief over the death of my mother, and the shame of having caused you so much pain and suffering by marrying Koss, prevented me from getting closer to you after he released me. I was too ashamed of my actions. Once you left for Columbia, however, I realized that the pain of losing your constant presence and losing the chance to be with you was infinitely less bearable than any shame, fear or confusion."

"So you finally decided that it'd be better to talk to me rather than watching me jump ship again," he concluded, just to make sure he understood her motives properly.

"This conclusion is warranted. Until now I tried to deny my affection and my wish to be close to you for mostly wrong reasons. I decided that it is not practicable to continue that self-deception, as it is completely without logic."

"Did you just say what I think you did?" he asked, an insecure smile appearing on his features.

She looked him in the eyes. "Trip... , I know human customs would now demand the sentence 'I love you' to be spoken, but I cannot speak about something that I do not yet entirely understand. What I do understand is that I have a deep affection for you, an affection I've never had for anyone else. Imagining my life without you is beyond my mental capabil..."

She was cut short by a hot, passionate kiss that she returned eagerly. Now, in close intimate contact with him once again, she could feel the overpowering relief and joy reverberating in his mind.

"You know what? You just translated 'I love you' from human to Vulcan and God be my witness, I love you, too," he declared.

Both embraced each other and for a long time they didn't say a word, quietly relaxing in each other's closeness and ridding themselves of the sadness caused by months of rejection and unrequited longing.

"So what about that bag 'o yours?" he asked after the long break, still holding her close to him. Her head was resting on his chest.

"It contains clothing and items of personal hygiene for the case that you would allow me to spend the night with you," she explained, looking up into his eyes with a hint of uncertainty.

"Wow, you're upping the pace quite a bit," Trip remarked with a grin for the ages.

"If it inconveniences you..."

"Are you kidding me? I've been dreaming about falling asleep with you in my arms ever since we... , well for a long time already."

"In this case I shall be honored to make your dream a reality," T'Pol promised as he released her from his embrace.

"After all this time, I cannot tell you how happy I am," he sighed and a his eyes started to moisten as he realized that a very long wait was coming to an end.

"You don't need to tell me, I share your emotions," she said softly and wiped the errant tear off his face.

"Ah right, you're in my head now," he chuckled.

"That is the second topic we need to discuss, but beforehand I shall prepare for the night."

When T'Pol disappeared into the bathroom, Trip let out a happy sigh. Finally she had given up her reluctance to admit the obvious. Inwardly he marveled at her straight approach. Usually she would have danced around the topic or drowned it in Vulcanese stilt speak – not tonight. It was less than a day from learning about the bond to the first night spent together in one bunk – incredible. But he couldn't shake the almost instinctual worry that she might back-pedal again in the morning. After all, it wouldn't be the first time.

He was still sitting on the bunk when T'Pol returned from the bathroom and when he caught sight of her, he forgot to breathe. She wore white panties - definitely not of Vulcan origin – and nothing else. The sight of his Vulcan dream girl in nothing but skimpy panties blew up a couple more conduits, this time in his head rather than engineering. Almost on auto-pilot he reached over and raised the room's temperature using the environmental controls panel.

"Congruency," she remarked dryly and pointed at his bare chest when he still continued staring at her voluptuous breasts. Since their tissue was designed to withstand Vulcan's high gravity, they were unusually firm for their size.

"There's something to be said for being in love with the Science Officer," he muttered, still rather absent-minded, and not giving a hoot about the fact that he was probably staring at her like an idiot. After all, she wouldn't have come back half-naked if she didn't want to be looked at.

They had just lain down when the door chime announced another late-night visitor. Trip jumped out of bed, throwing her one of his T-shirts to cover her upper half. T'Pol shoved her legs under the blanket. Parading herself in skimpy panties for anyone but him was evidently not an option. He joined her on the bunk again.

"You okay with this?" he whispered, pointing at the door when the chime rang a second time.

"It is less undignified to be ... caught like this, rather than being discovered by a biosign scan, which will most likely happen if we ignore hails," she decided. "The crew will notice, one way or the other, as I do not plan to hide our relationship."

Nodding, Trip announced his permission to enter and the door revealed the visitor to be Captain Archer, who stopped dead in his tracks.

"I know those pheromones have side effects and will take time to wear off, but I thought you two were immune?" he wondered wide-eyed.

"We are, Cap'n," Trip replied neutrally.

"Hmm, I could swear I see my First officer and my Chief Engineer, both in one of his shirts, and sitting on and in his bunk, respectively. When did this happen?"

"Well, thirty minutes ago and pheromones had nothing to do with it. Don't take it the wrong way, Cap'n. Unless the ship's blowing up ... I think T'Pol's a bit uneasy with the situation. So, if you wouldn't mind ... I promise I'll answer any question you might have about everything. Just not right now."

"Okay, okay, Trip, I'll get lost," Archer said with a smile and excused himself, wishing them a good night. Obviously seeing that Trip had a somewhat more attractive option at hand than watching a late-night water-polo broadcast, he left them alone.

"Well, looks like we're doing this top-down," Trip sighed after the door closed behind the Captain.

"I had the distinct impression that you preferred 'top off'," T'Pol replied deadpan and got rid of the T-shirt again.

"Cap'n was right, some of my sense of humor is definitely rubbing off on you," Trip laughed and crawled back under the sheets with her. Gently cupping one of her breasts, he asked her to explain the second topic she wanted to talk about.

She indicated that he should lie down and lay on her back beside him to give him better access to her bust. "I wish to speak with you about the bond. It is imperative that you have sufficient information to make your decision."

"Okay..." he said and T'Pol carefully observed his face. In terms of logic this was not an ideal time for such a discussion, but he seemed to be paying appropriate attention to her words, not only her body. She had longed for his touch too long to stop him now and due to their different biology, it would probably be herself anyway, who lost concentration first.

"The decision to bond is a decision for a lifetime. On Vulcan, being bonded amounts to what Earth considers a legal marriage. Unlike on Earth, however, the option of a divorce is not available."

"So you mean to say we're married?" he asked, letting go of her soft tissue. T'Pol could see that this latest information grabbed his full attention and with satisfaction she noticed that he decided to concentrate on what she said instead of distracting himself by exploring her physique.

"I haven't completed my explanation yet," she replied and gently grabbed his wrist to direct his hand back to where she wanted it to be. "Our bond is still in its infancy. To make it easier for you to understand, you could compare it with the human custom of becoming engaged. With time, due to intimate contact and consummation of the physical side of the relationship, it strengthens and becomes increasingly harder to break. Once the bond is completed, it cannot be severed without putting both mates in terminal danger."

"So if I get that right ... We're engaged and whenever we touch or when we consummate ... what precisely does that mean?" She suspected he knew, but in a case as important as this it was vital to get his facts exactly right.

"It means that we mate," she replied dryly and she heard that her voice had become a little raspy from his gentle ministrations to her mammary features. She doubted that he had any idea how arousing it was to have her bust stimulated the way he was now doing. She could feel how her vision deteriorated, a clear sign of her reaching a state of arousal that made sexual relief almost imperative.

Trip groaned, this time from frustration as much as desire?. "We don't ... mate! Do me a favor please, don't use that word. We use that term when animals do the deed and we're no animals. So, whenever we make love the bond gets stronger and once it's strong enough you'll be my wife and we'd die if we tried to divorce, right?"

"In essence, yes," she said, her voice quivering in desire. She searched for his other hand and gently put it on her chest too.

"Great!" he beamed. "If I weren't so damn tired, I'd probably start right away, so we'd be undivorceably married by the morning. But seriously, T'Pol, did you really think that I would want to break that bond? Forget it!"

"I'm gratified to hear that. I do admit that I was afraid that you would consider severing the bond," she said and when she saw his shocked face, added, "for approximately one point two-five seconds," sending him into a fit of laughter while her senses started to diminish further.

"You are something else," he said and T'Pol groaned in desire when she realized he had replaced his hand with his tongue, continuing to stimulate the sensitive skin around her nipples.

"Do you think you have the energy to give me a demonstration of 'making love'?" she whispered, her voice husky from his highly stimulating caressing of her breasts. She knew she had to be quick in getting an answer as her hearing was already significantly reduced.

"If you'd be okay with a quick one?" he asked and she could sense his uneasiness at having to admit his weakness. "It's been a while, so I won't hold out long."

"There is no minimum required time and you have 'prepared' me most thoroughly already, beloved," she whispered in his ear, licking the upper part of his earlobe. "I doubt I can hold out any significant amount of time either."

He threw the blanket aside and gently started to pull down her panties.

He put the lacy little garment aside and noticed that it was absolutely drenched. She hadn't exaggerated when she told him that he had warmed her up most thoroughly. He was sure that if he really tried, he could probably make her climax just by properly caressing her breasts. That was just another reminder of how sensitive to touch his Vulcan lover was.

He quickly discarded his pants, and his member, standing to attention, popped free; he could see the lust and desire in her eyes when she stared at it.

Her face was flushed green, her breath labored and the dark bronze-ish colored nipples of his Vulcan lover were rock hard and erect. His breath caught when she spread her legs very slowly to reveal her wet opening. Since Vulcans did not have pubic hair, his view at pleasure central was completely unobstructed.

He let his tongue twirl around her hard nipples as he slowly closed up with her. He could feel her hand wrapped around his meat, guiding him into her opening. Since she was already well lubricated he glided in relatively easily, despite his considerable size. A low guttural moan told him that she more than approved of his arrival.

Soon the aroused engineer felt his body fixed in place by her legs, which were possessively wrapped around his hips; his mouth eagerly devoured hers and the almost feverishly excited Vulcan moaned into his throat, all the while continuing to tongue-wrestle him. Her arms, firmly slung around his neck, also made sure that he stayed exactly where he was.

Trip could feel the vibrations of her increasingly intense moans of pleasure in his throat and continued sliding in and out of her slowly, trying not to shoot his ammunition too soon, which was a tall order with a – literally – hot female wrapped around him.

He could tell that she did not notice much of her surroundings anymore. Her eyes were open and staring at him, but didn't move at all, and he knew that she had reached the state of disorientation that preceded a rapidly approaching orgasm. If things went in the same way as they had done during that fateful night in the Expanse, she had by now lost the sense of hearing and her vision, relying entirely on her tactile and olfactory senses as evidenced by her hands roaming all over his torso, and by her wide-open nostrils, eagerly sucking in his scent.

He carefully separated from her mouth, knowing that in her incoherent state she was prone to bite. That was a lesson from their first encounter in the Expanse, when she'd bitten his lip quite painfully. Propping himself up on his hands, he upped the tempo to bring her the much needed relief and get her past the stage of incoherence.

With a shriek she started convulsing as the orgasm short-circuited her senses. He managed a few more strokes to prolong her climax before he exploded into her body with a number of strangled growls of bliss and triumph.

T'Pol's hand roamed his upper body, trying to find the sparse layer of hair on his torso. The vicious climax after their coupling and the immediate build-up to it had temporarily disabled her vision and hearing and it would take several minutes to recover the use of those senses. This temporary helplessness was just one of many reasons why most of her fellow Vulcans forewent sexual relations unless forced to do so by the blood fever. Having experienced the passion of a devoted human mate, she would willingly endure an even longer period of partial disability in exchange for the unspeakably intense pleasure this 'making love' brought to her mind and body. Once she had found the light fur with her sensitive fingertips she rolled him gently off her on to his back and rested her head on his muscular chest.

For the second time in her life she experienced the surreal situation of her mind being ravaged by a torrent of pleasurable emotions without any audible or visual input. Usually such a vulnerable state would alarm her, but being held in his strong arms gave her a feeling of security. Her finger gently glided over his lips to find out if he was speaking, but she sensed no movement. He obviously remembered that she would not be able to hear him for several minutes to come. She could feel the light kiss he planted on her digit.

Satisfied by her human mate's reassuring embrace, she slowly drifted off to sleep after he had covered their unclothed bodies with the blanket.

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