AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story was written to honor a challenge passed down which stated that 15 words were to be used within a story. Those words are: computer, pink, rogue, erotic, voyeur, serendipity, research, squidgy, menial, standard deviation, photograph, kinetic, equidistant, tease, and indigo. Also, the smut was requested by Admiral Tag....as if I could deny a request from the great TAG.
Just a bit of PWP fluff in the "Coming Home" AU I created some time back. No real deep revelations revealed, just a little "girl talk" between married, pregnant best friends.
Words falling between ~~ indicate the challenge words. Words falling between ** indicates thoughts.
"Therefore my staff's ~research~ shows there are equal extremes to either side of the projected ~standard deviation~ as set out in our hypothesis. This leads me to believe that, given two ~equidistant~ points, the ~rogue~ telepath we researched can indeed use her innate ~kinetic~ sense to move small objects between them. I would further hypothesize that as said telepath matures toward adulthood and achieves more training and practice toward her adeptship, she will be able to move increasingly larger objects further distances." After a pause, she continued. "~Computer,~ end recording and transmit one copy to Starfleet Medical, one to Counselor Troi, and one to my personal research databases."
The answering chirrup of the computer told her it was done, allowing her to relax finally. It seemed wrong to be doing this research on her daughter, yet it wasn't hurting Morgan in the least....and besides, she'd rather be doing it than some stranger. A soft sigh escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered shut.
"Yes, Deanna?" came the weary reply.
"You look exhausted. Are you sure you're not overdoing it?"
"Isn't that what *I'm* supposed to be asking *you*?" With a wry chuckle, Beverly opened her eyes to look at her best friend. And shielded her eyes. "Whatever possessed you to wear an outfit like that?"
The brunette glanced down at her outfit and smiled. "What's wrong wit hit? I happen to look good in ~indigo,~" she replied with mock indignation. "Will says so all the time."
"Will also knows better than to contradict you when you're pregnant," Beverly quipped. "But yes, you do look good in indigo, just not with that bright of a ~pink~ mixed in. Tho' I'm sure your mother would be proud, in some odd way."
The petite Betazoid stuck her tongue out at her friend. "Are you telling me that the captain would dissuade you from wearing an outfit like this?"
"No, he's learned to be very afraid of me during this pregnancy," she replied, smirking. "There is no task too ~menial~ for him now." And then a more serene smiled crossed her lips, a hand straying to her rounded stomach. "We were given such a gift, Deanna. I don't know what to do right now, except thank the Goddess repeatedly. And that she's giving us another son....it's as if I'm getting a second chance at the son I lost."
"And you are following Selar's precautions, aren't you?" Deanna asked, already knowing the answer. The only precaution they'd had a problem making Beverly acquiesce to was that of overtiring herself. She received a nod as the redhead stood. They made their way toward Beverly's quarters. Once inside, they sat on the couch, facing each other. Almost instantly, a small streak of black dashed across the room and into Beverly's lap.
"Allo, Rene. Morgan should be home soon. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you," Beverly replied, scratching between the kitten's ears, delighted by the low, rumbling purr she received. And then she caught Deanna's gaze again. "I'm fine, Deanna. I don't know why you're so worried about me. Selar has made it more than clear that I'm physically fine. And you know damned well that my emotional state is far better than it was seven months ago. I have two more months till the baby's due, and he's progressing normally."
"Yet you're lacking something. I can sense it. We're too good of friends for me to miss it, Beverly," came the soft reply. "What is it?"
Beverly sighed softly, looked down at the kitten in her lap. "Sex."
Deanna's delightfully shocked laughter tinkled in her ears. "I beg your pardon?"
"Sex. That's what I'm lacking. Okay? I'm not horny, but damnit, I miss it. Jean-Luc's been too damned careful this time around. The last time he made love to me...." she sighed softly.
Deanna smiled, placed a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "You know I'll listen if you need to talk," she said softly, then smiled impishly at her friend. "Even if I do feel like a ~voyeur~ when you do talk about it."
Beverly laughed at that. "And Jean-Luc would just *love* to find out how you get a ~squidgy~ every time we *do* talk about our sex life."
"~Serendipity,~" came the teasing remark. "I mean he has to have figured out by now that I can feel so much of what you feel, and therefore if I'm receptive enough and paying attention, I'd feel it when you're making love."
Another laugh, then Beverly leaned behind her to grab a small framed ~photograph~ from the table behind her. Handing it to Deanna, she smiled. "Do you know when that was taken?"
Deanna stared at the image for a moment. "You're not pregnant in it, so it could be any of a number of times. But your hair looks like it has recently. I would guess this is within the last year?"
"Close. Damned close. That was taken the night I told Jean-Luc about this baby, just after we'd made incredibly passionate love in fact."
Deanna stared at the picture again. "You've got to be kidding me. You don't look it. I would hazard a guess that just prior to this picture being taken, you'd spent at least two hours getting ready for it."
"Oh no, it was purely a spontaneous event. Remember? That was the night we all decided to celebrate our double blessed event on the holodeck? Even tho' you'd offered to take Morgan for us."
Deanna nodded, remembering the night in question, and gently rubbed her own swollen abdomen. Suddenly she looked up at Beverly. "Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that when we met on the holodeck that night, the glow on your face *wasn't* from your impending motherhood?" When Beverly shook her head, Deanna chuckled softly. "Damn, you're worse than me." After a moment's pause, she asked the question anyway. "Was that the last time he made love to you?"
Beverly nodded slowly. "He made me see Selar again the next day, to confirm the pregnancy. And she told us all the restrictions and precautions. And he took them to the letter. She said we could continue lovemaking for a few months if we were careful. Well, he decided we would exercise the utmost in care and just abstain."
"I know you, Beverly, you're a rather sensual woman, particularly with your husband. How in the hell have you survived for six months without sex?"
At that, a sly smirk crossed her lips. "Incredibly ~erotic~ dreams. But I'm sure you don't want to hear about those at all."
"Don't you dare, Cerridwen Howard. Don't you get me going and ready to hear your dreams, then just dismiss them as if they're nothing. You'd not have brought them up if you didn't wish to discuss them. Now spill."
Beverly grinned wickedly at her friend's determination. "So you're missing the sex just as much as I am, are you?" came the teasingly wicked tone. At Deanna's exasperated grin, she chuckled. "Alright, then. What would you rather hear? The dreams? Or my last night with Jean-Luc?"
"Oh the dreams, of course. Knowing you, they're far more erotic than what I know of your husband's skills." Quickly she amended herself, realizing how that could be taken. "Not that he's a slouch in the lovemaking department, mind you, but I know your mind rather well after all these years, my friend, and you've got quite a kinky streak."
Beverly couldn't help but smirk at that. "Well, let me start by saying I've become quite the ~tease~ to my husband in the past couple of months. He knows full well that I can't have sex, and my dreams suffice, believe me. But he feels guilty indulging in his own satisfaction when I'm around to see and hear it. He feels like he should be just as abstaining as I am for the duration of the pregnancy. Personally, I rather enjoy watching him.
"Anyway, the other night I got him but good. He had no choice but to indulge. He was asleep next to me in bed , and I was up writing in the baby's journal. I had talked to Selar about the situation, and she gave me the green light to do what I'd planned. I knew that Jean-Luc was having problems regarding release. He was hornier than hell and trying to deny himself the release his body really needed...."
Beverly quietly closed the diary and set it in the drawer of her night stand. Sliding down under the covers, she leaned up on an elbow to watch her husband sleep for a few moments. He was murmuring softly under his breath. To Beverly, it sounded like he was repeatedly saying "Oh, Calcutta!" But she couldn't be certain of the exact words. All she knew was that his tone made it very clear that he once again in the midst of an erotic dream. Moving the covers ever so carefully, she smiled at the sight of his more than ready erection straining toward her from the confines of his boxers. With a wicked smile, she leaned over him and began to gently trace a finger along his chest. Rustling through the light smattering of hair on his chest, her finger traced around each tight little nipple, and she delighted to see both spring to immediate attention at her ministrations. She wanted him, but her baby was much to important to risk sex, so she'd just make sure her husband was satisfied. And after the baby's birth? Well, the old saying still held true....Paybacks are a bitch.
Returning her attention to the matter at hand, she snickered softly and let her hand trail down further over the faint beginnings of plumpness where once he'd had a muscular stomach. Gently, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his navel for the briefest of seconds, grinning as he groaned loudly. And then, ever so carefully, she eased his erection from the grey silk boxers she'd bought him for their last anniversary. A quick, appraising eye scanned along the length of his manhood, noting each tiny pulse of a vein, each minor color variation, each minor imperfection that created the unique feel of him. And she smiled again to see the pearly drop at the tip, almost dared herself to lap it up. As much as she craved the taste of him, she wouldn't risk it, not now.
"Oh, mon coeur," he murmured in his sleep, hips jutting up slightly.
Beverly did her damnedest not to laugh then. She loved the endearment, but also knew of his tendency to repeat it vehemently during lovemaking. Once again, she reached out a finger, carefully dragging her nail down the underside of his shaft to trace the twin sacs below. He shuddered violently at that, and another pearly drop appeared, sending the first tumbling down the path of her finger. But still he slept on, murmuring in french. She dragged her nail back up the same trail, with painstaking slowness and a bit more pressure. Her efforts were rewarded by yet another pearl drop.
She pulled back when it looked as if he might awaken, biting her lip as she waited for him to resettle himself, an arm now flung carelessly over his eyes, the other resting dangerously close to his erection....and to her presence. In order to fulfill her plans, she'd have to exercise the utmost in caution....or risk him waking and finding her out. She stretched out next to him, opposite the hand nearest his erection. Once again, her finger traced up and down the turgid length, nail scraping his skin in the most delightfully teasing manner. Leaning in close to his ear, she began to whisper, taking a cue from dreams he'd told her about.
"Jean-Luc, oh, Jean-Luc, I want you. I love how you do that with your tongue. Please, my love, don't tease me. Make love to me, Jean-Luc. Make me come harder than I ever have before."
"No," he murmured in his sleep. "The baby--"
"Will be just fine, my love. He's fast asleep in the nursery. We don't have much time, Jean-Luc. Please hurry."
Stifling back a snicker, she watched his hand moved to firmly grasp his manhood. She knew well his techniques for masturbation, and had planned on adding to his experience. His hand began to slowly move up and down his shaft, and with each downward glide, Beverly raked her nails lightly across the tip, sending shivers of delight along her husband's spine. On each upward stroke of his hand, her tongue would glide across a nipple. He moaned again, quickening his pace, when she suddenly nipped at his left nipple, but didn't awaken.
"That's it, love, I'm almost there," she panted breathlessly. "Hurry, Jean-Luc, I want -- Make me come, Jean-Luc."
And his hand began to piston along his erection, his moans growing louder, hips beginning to push up off the mattress as he neared his climax. She continued to goad him on, gauging her words to his reactions, until at last he cried out loudly, his release covering his stomach and thighs.
Beverly had just enough time to back away from him [to reduce her chances of being caught in the aftermath] and watch his face contort into blissful release, then roll over and feign sleep as he awoke from his "dream." She kept herself as still as possible, controlled her breathing to a slow, steady rhythm, and tried her damnedest not to smile at her victory.
"Merde!" Jean-Luc muttered upon waking. He stared at himself, the mess he'd made, then glanced at his sleeping wife. Careful so as not to wake her, he made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. Upon returning, he slid under the covers and carefully wrapped his arms about Beverly, spooning her from behind. It had been a wonderful dream, and as he fell asleep, he prayed he'd soon revisit that particular one in reality with his wife.