Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything but I doubt they want this.
Rated NC-17
The Delta Flyer dipped and swooped as its pilot pushed it through a series of maneuvers.
"Easy Tom…" Harry's voice over the Comm link to the bridge echoed in the cabin. "Don't push it to the last second there."
Tom hardly listened to him. Alone in the 'Flyer he was doing what he loved best; flying, soaring, swooping, pushing himself and the machine to the limits. Well, he amended to himself. Doing what he loved second best. But piloting the 'Flyer like this could be compared to good sex, although he would never say that to B'Elanna. He pushed the 'Flyer into a loop-the-loop then a death roll, mimicking the aerobatics performed by intrepid stunt pilots of the twentieth century.
"Tom…" Harry's voice again. "The Captain's not on the bridge, but she could be watching from the ready room… Your ass is gonna be hamburger if she catches you doing that. You're just supposed to be testing the responsiveness of the new helm."
Tom wasn't listening. He pushed the 'Flyer into a series of 360-degree rolls.
"Yeeee haaaah!" His voice came clearly out onto the bridge as the 'Flyer straightened and took off at warp away from Voyager.
On the bridge Harry groaned and shrank into the big chair as he watched the 'Flyer disappear from the viewscreen. Never mind Tom's ass, his own was in serious danger right now. So much for command. He wondered if Neelix needed an assistant.
Twenty minutes later a shred of sanity filtered into Tom's adrenaline-overloaded brain and he began to think about returning. Slowing to impulse he approached Voyager, creeping in from the side in the hope that he wouldn't be visible through the viewscreen in the ready room. He knew Harry would cover for him, but if the Captain or Commander happened to look out of the viewport at the wrong moment he could have a hard time explaining what he had been doing.
A quick peak into the ready room would tell him a lot. Quickly he magnified the forward visual scanners and narrowed the focus until he could see the edge of the viewport. There. He narrowed the focus further and he could see the Captain and Commander. They didn't appear to be working, in fact they were sitting on the bench in front of the viewscreen, close together, heads together.
Tom tightened the focus as the 'Flyer idled its way slowly closer. Holy Cow. He jerked back abruptly, hitting his head on the back of the chair. They were kissing. Cutting the impulse back so that the 'Flyer's speed matched Voyager's, he took another look.
They were doing more then kissing. Tom's mouth dropped open and he grinned. From his vantage point, just off the port bow he was pretty well hidden from the ready room, but the angle meant he had an uninterrupted view of the proceedings.
His eyebrows rose as he saw Chakotay unzip the Captain's uniform, pushing it off her shoulders. His mouth moved from hers to trail down the side of her neck and his hands lifted the hem of the tank. Tom's eyes nearly popped out when he saw she was braless. Chakotay's mouth was already moving on her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth as his large hand inched its way over her ribs to rub the other. The Captain's head was thrown back and her hands were wound in Chakotay's hair. Tom could imagine the throaty noises she would be making, could imagine the hold she had on her lover's head holding him on her breast, encouraging him on.
His own uniform was getting uncomfortably tight. He eased the front of it, even as he adjusted the viewer's controls trying to get a better look into the ready room. Hell, he knew what he was doing was unconscionable, but they would be none the wiser. And he had always wondered what the Captain looked like under the jumpsuit, had always imagined the creamy color of her skin, wondered what her breasts looked like, fantasized how she would respond in the throes of passion. Okay, so in his fantasies he had been the one doing what Chakotay was doing now, lucky bastard, but this was a pretty good second best.
Chakotay had stripped off his uniform top and the Captain appeared to be working on his pants as he stood in front of her. Her mouth was moving deliberately down his stomach.
Tom couldn't help it. He undid his own pants and let his erection spring free. Wrapping his hand around it, he began to pump slowly, eyes locked on the viewscreen.
She had him in her mouth now. Tom's eyes closed at the thought, then just as quickly opened them in case he missed anything. This was beyond his wildest fantasies. Who would have thought the strait-laced Captain would do this… would do this at all, let alone in her ready room a mere stone's throw from the bridge. He imagined Harry's face if the door suddenly opened and laughed aloud.
He saw Chakotay's hips begin to undulate. God, how long could the man last? Then he saw him pull out of her mouth and raise her to her feet. He caught a quick glimpse of his stiffened shaft, large and purple-tipped before it was hidden as the Captain pressed herself along her lover's body, raising her face for his kiss, her hands cupping his buttocks, pulling him closer. He was pushing her jumpsuit down, over her hips. Tom saw black panties and the large hand working its way underneath the gusset.
His own hand moved faster on his erection as he pushed the pilot's seat back and spread his legs so that he could rub his balls with his free hand. The Delta Flyer idled along on autopilot. He saw the Captain raise her hips so that Chakotay could pull off her panties. Tom saw him cup her face and kiss her lingeringly, no first time encounter this, the gentleness of the gesture told him that these were long-time lovers who loved deeply and completely.
He watched, still rubbing his own stiffened shaft as she spread her legs and the big man moved between. She was hidden from him now, but the flex and play of the bronze buttocks told him what was happening. He wished he had audio.
They were moving faster now, a small white hand creeping around, cupping the golden buttock, pulling him closer.
Tom's own hand moved faster. Hell, he was going to come, here in the 'Flyer, here all over his uniform. Too late. His head fell back and his feet jerked as he spilled himself all over his hand. His foot jerked up and kicked the helm. The 'Flyer accelerated, kicking up fast on an upward course.
"TOM!" Through the red haze of his release, Tom heard Harry's voice screaming at him. Shit. On the viewscreen there was suddenly Voyager's hull, loomingly close and directly in front. He gasped and wrenched the helm, pushing the 'Flyer upwards at an impossible angle. Through the viewscreen he saw the hull almost within touching distance, gods, he must have nearly grazed it. In his ears he heard Harry screaming at him as the 'Flyer rolled and flipped. He fought the controls, steadying the 'Flyer, soothing her down like a woman. The sharp scent of semen and the stickiness on his groin told him he had one hell of a mess to clean up. His breathing and heart rate slowed and he brought the 'Flyer around sedately.
"Mr. Paris." The husky voice was unmistakable. "I don't know what you think you are doing, but you will return to Voyager and explain yourself NOW."
He grinned. How had she recovered so fast? He would never say what he had seen of course, but somehow he thought that this dressing down was one he wouldn't have missed for anything.
"Yes, MA'AM."
Feedback? Please. Shayenne
© Shayenne, August 2000 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.
© Shayenne, August 2000 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.