Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom own all the rights. I just play. Copyright (c) 2004 by Karracaz. Summary: Okay, this is in answer to T'Riva's Speedo/ hot-tub challenge: Sarek and Amanda's 'honeymoon' for want of a better description, a trip to see the 'real' Vulcan. Strangers have the right to ask for shelter and lodging wherever they may be on the planet. Rated NC17.
Lihwa turned out to be little more than a village on the edge of the desert. There were approximately forty private dwellings, a small Hall of Learning, and a Temple of Contemplation. Like any other Vulcan settlement, it consisted of broad anonymous streets flanked by neat, high walls that shrouded every single house. Most of Vulcan's natural beauty lay concealed in that manner, a secret to be wrested from it little by little. The things that mattered at Lihwa were tucked away in hidden valleys, in vermilion and purple alcoves between the folds of sand dunes, waiting to be sought.
Amanda, tired, hungry and disheveled, saw only the surface austerity.
"Does thee know this place," she asked Sarek. "Where shall we stay?"
With his fingers beneath her elbow, he helped her from the sandtrekker.
"All houses are open to us," he advised enigmatically, and led her to a high gate. It opened at his touch and Amanda found herself in a small, precise garden, contrived with such cunning that it seemed possible to lose one's way among the various shrubs and twisted dwarf moonflower vines. Wind chimes rang like crystal bells as they passed. The hollow tubes glinted in the radiance of half a dozen lanterns artfully concealed behind the vegetation that lit a path to the main house.
A pavilion of stone with reddish brown tiles, a cloistered walk separated the building from the garden. In the day time, the wooden screens and inner doors would be removed, allowing the rooms to open straight onto the sheltered way. During the long, cold night, however, the house was tightly and safely shuttered. Sarek and Amanda mounted some steps and came to the entrance where Sarek pressed the doorplate.
After a short while, the door opened. "Sarek ansh'oine t'skon kah T'Phra and his aduna, Amanda, asks the hospitality of this House. We travel from Dhikune."
The young boy, who stood there, returned Sarek's bow in the elegant manner peculiar to Vulcans. "Greetings Sarek and Amanda."
He took them straight to the central room where the rest of the household sat around a low lacquer table. Immediately, they all rose and an elderly woman greeted them. "We are honored by thy arrival. Will thee eat with us?"
"It will be our honor, T'sai," Sarek said, inclining his head. "But we are dusty from our travels. If we may bathe first."
"Of course. T'Piao will show thee the way."
A young girl, Daughter of the House, led them to a second-floor dressing room, decorated with a life-size frieze of what Amanda took to be the depictions of ancient gods and goddesses dressed as far as she could tell in one quick glance, only in their glory. Sliding shutter doors opened onto a steamy room built entirely of carefully joined, smooth wooden planks. The aromatic wood added its fragrance to the vapors that rose from a hot water tub and gave the room a wondrous scent. The sunken bath was about seven feet long, four feet wide and four feet deep – ample for two.
As soon as T'Piao left them alone, Sarek began to remove his traveling clothes, folding each article neatly and placing it in a cupboard apparently placed there for that purpose. Amanda watched him uncertainly for a moment but he seemed unaware of her presence and so, a little shy in the strange surroundings, she followed his example. He had not touched her for several days, ever since the fires of pon farr had burned low, and although she strived to remain tranquil, the pulse beating wildly in her throat gave her away. There was a tension in her limbs, an exhilarating tightness working through her nerves as she quickly slipped free of the dusty desert gear. With unprecedented speed, she unhooked her brassiere, pushed her panties down to her ankles, folded all her garments, and stuffed them into the cupboard on top of Sarek's clothing.
When she turned around, to her surprise, he was observing her. Naked except for the Speedos he still wore, a wedding gift she had bestowed upon him, his narrowed gaze seemed to stray involuntarily over her breasts and abdomen, the curve of her hips and her shapely thighs.
Sarek's brow arched as his dark hawk-eyes burned into hers across the width of the room and she had her first intimation of how easily a mere thought could stimulate her husband. Suffocated by a heat that came from within and without, she felt her pulses abruptly leap in excitement. Her heart pounded an erratic rhythm as he took a step in her direction, a delightful shiver of wanting running through her as he closed the gap between them.
His gaze was as soft as a caress, his voice husky with a desire he had told her he could not experience outside of pon farr. The very sound of his deep baritone stoked the conflagration that smoldered within her.
"My husband?" She queried with a tremulous sigh as he backed her up against the wall, shocked by the strength of his obvious intent. He stroked her cheek with two of his fingers before reaching for each katra point along her brow and jaw. Slowly a delicate thread of awareness formed between them.
He was tall, and hot and as he pressed against her from breast to belly, his thigh inveigled between hers, he smelled deliciously of cinnamon. Though his expression remained enigmatic, he kissed her with his eyes. Her nipples hardened like stones in reaction, tingling where they rubbed against the rough hair of his firm chest. Feeling wanton, shameless, she reached about his narrow waist and wriggled her fingers down the back of the Speedos, kneading the muscles of his rump.
His tormented groan was a heady invitation, his gasp an incentive she was unwilling to ignore. Grasping the waistband of the Speedos, she slid them over the globes of Sarek's buttocks and down the smoothness of his thighs until the garment lost its cling and fell free. Now he was as naked as she was. Again, she caressed his muscles, higher this time, digging her fingertips in. He was particularly tender there but she had to use all her strength nonetheless concentrating on the glands that lay just beneath the skin inducing the specific androgens that would allow his genitals to descend.
"What are thee doing?" he asked, his tone distracted.
It was not one of his most logical remarks. She laughed breathily and flicked her tongue along his lower lip until his mouth opened. Heat seared her cheek as he exhaled. Gently, she pressed her lips to his, her tongue exploring virgin territory, tasting his hot piquancy, wanting more.
"Amanda," he moaned, when she released him at last, his usually mellifluous voice hoarse with more than just surprise. "Amanda -- they will be waiting for us."
"Waiting?" she echoed, and planted a series of little kisses on his shoulders, his neck, then his chin before reaching to suck on his ear lobe.
"Our -- hosts," he ground out through tautened lips, eyes closed tight, heart tripping against Amanda's ribs where he leaned bonelessly against her. "For dinner. It -- would be an insult for them to begin without us."
Amanda blinked, stayed her hand where it caressed the apex of his thighs. "Oh my! Really?"
But it was far too late to stop. His breathing altered as her ministrations finally kicked in. His ardor blazed. Though he tried to resist the animal response that flamed through mind and body, Amanda's fervor had set his blood on fire. His fingers curled around hers, guided her touch to his heated flesh. Where moments before there had been nothing but a slight moist furrow between his legs, his engorged penis now weighted her hand, long, and thick, the skin like oiled velvet. She squeezed him hard but he needed little encouragement. He pushed her thighs apart, opening her. The pulsing tip of his glans throbbed against her clitoris. Passion ignited between them. He slid between her wet lips with a speed and power that forced her firstly onto tiptoe then off her feet. Though only a ghost of the former vigor of pon farr, his thrusts were wild. He pounded into her and she clung to him as the world spun. Together they found the tempo that bound their minds and bodies into one exquisite harmony. The pleasure when it came was pure and explosive.
"Amanda," she heard Sarek sob aloud, then buck and buck again as he jerked inside her.
As her heart slowed and her breathing returned to something approaching normal, with her legs locked at the ankle around Sarek's flanks, absurdly, her thoughts centered on the family waiting for them downstairs. But they could do nothing. Sarek was not a Human. Unlike a man of her species, his penis did not become flaccid after he had set his seed the first time. For a little while longer, they would be tied in the act of intimacy.
She giggled against his shoulder, her face flushes as he rocked gently back and forth within her. "Your momma has a lot to answer for, my Adun."
"Hmmm?" he questioned inarticulately, for the moment beyond words.
"Didn't she ever tell you that nice boys don't just drop their Speedos in other people's bathrooms?"