Shock…awe. Those are the only two words for it, Jim decided, in response to his ongoing reaction in the face of Spock’s unclothed lower half. It had been three months since their ill-fated voyage to Vulcan, where he’d learned more about his First Officer than either of them had probably ever expected or intended. Only, he’d been able to think of very little else as of late. Questions forming in his mind about what it would mean when Spock did take a mate…what it would spell for their command team and more importantly, their friendship. He couldn’t fathom not having Spock at his side, his calm presence and that sense of unshakable loyalty and trust they’d nurtured over the years of their service together.
That trust was the only reason he was here, Jim reminded himself. Spock had come to him, unlearned in the demands of physical need, and confided that he could not seem to ‘alleviate the symptoms’ of his physical arousal on his own. He’d come to Jim for pointers, for Chrissake. How it had turned into…this…he still wasn’t entirely sure. It had started off simply enough as he’d explained to Spock, as delicately and professionally as possible, the different ways one could, ‘self-stimulate’ as his First had so eloquently put it.
When it came to the intricate details, however, they ran into a few hurdles. Well, one in particular actually. It had never occurred to Kirk at the start of their conversation, the differences in Vulcan and Human male anatomy, until Spock interrupted Jim’s lecture to bring it up. Jim had been ready for just about anything—extra ridges, tendrils, retraction…but he’d never considered this possibility.
“Jim?” Spock questioned, vulnerability slowly creeping into his expressive human eyes.
“Ah…” He hesitated dumbly, “Just…I…” he sighed in defeat, “You’re going to have to help me on this one, Mr. Spock. I have to admit I’ve never quite seen anything like it.”
“If I knew how to help, Jim, I would not be here,” Spock replied stoically.
Jim returned with a nervous smile, “What I mean is…can you tell me anything about it…?”
Spock stood abruptly, reaching for his unclasped trousers where they rested low on his thighs, clearly intent on fleeing the vicinity, “Captain, I believe I was in error—”
“Spock, wait!” Kirk gripped the Vulcan’s forearms to stop him. He then threw caution to the wind and brought one hand up to gently caress Spock’s clenched jaw. “Do you think I was laughing at you? I wasn’t. I would never laugh at you.” He regarded the rigid shaft, bare and glistening between them, an idea forming in his mind, “Do you trust me, Spock?”
After a beat, "Yes."
“Then let me help you if I can,” Jim insisted. He regarded their location, in the open air of the office partition of his quarters, and frowned. “First of all, and pardon the cliché, but why don’t we take this discussion somewhere a little more comfortable?”
At Spock’s wordless nod of agreement, Jim carefully replaced his First’s trousers, but purposefully leaving the fly open. He led them to the sleeping alcove where he then guided Spock to recline against the headboard before once again lowering his pants. Jim took a seat at the Vulcan’s side, facing forward with his hands respectfully in his lap. “What I was trying to say earlier, Spock, is that I need to know where it’s sensitive if I’m going to be able to give you advice about this.”
“Forgive me, Jim, for my reaction earlier,” Spock replied, his voice deep and grated, like it was during their conversation all those months ago. “I am experiencing several illogical emotions at this time, the strongest among them being frustration.”
“Why?” Jim pressed, “because you can’t meditate it away?”
“Precisely,” Spock deadpanned, “and also, because I am so inexperienced, having believed for so long that my human biology would prevent the onset of Pon Farr, that I cannot abate it on my own.”
“It’s not something that comes naturally for any of us, Spock. It takes some practice,” Jim smiled reassuringly, then sobered completely. “Look, I’m about to make a suggestion, but I don’t want to offend you.”
“Please, Jim,” Spock responded wearily, “whatever you suggest, I am willing to at least hear.”
“Alright,” Jim took one of his friend’s clothed wrists, hoping that what he was about to suggest wouldn’t be overly appalling to Spock’s ears. “I’m suggesting that you and I…that we…practice what works for you…together.”
“You want to…” Spock actually gulped, “to touch…?”
“Yes, Spock,” Jim nodded, squeezing the wrist he held. “I can’t tell you how to ‘self-stimulate’ if neither of us knows what makes you feel good.”
“I—” Spock broke off with a hoarse whisper, “I cannot contemplate…using you as such—”
“Spock,” Jim interrupted and, daringly, guided the hand in his grip to his own groin, “it wouldn’t be like that, because I want to help you with this…because for a long time, I have wanted you.” He looked away suddenly, regarding Spock’s reaction carefully from the corner of his yes, “Is that alright with you.”
“It does not…disgust you?” Spock’s question took him by surprise.
Jim shook his head, appraising the magnificent work of art before him, equal parts curious and envious, “I admit that I’m slightly intimidated, my friend, but certainly not disgusted.” He could feel his face heating a little at his next admission, “Mostly, I’m…curious.”
The corners of Spock’s mouth curved upward slightly, “It is not so different.”
It was very different…but Jim didn’t say that aloud, for fear of making Spock feel even more uncomfortable. Instead, he asked the question that had been floating around in his mind since the big unveiling, “Is it really…it looks like it might be…the tip, that is…is it…”
“Indeed,” Spock nodded, “and I have found that it is also quite…reactionary to various stimuli.”
Oh…Jim swallowed tightly, his own cock standing at attention, “It’s prehensile?”
“Yes,” Spock answered simply. There were a few moments of silence between them as Jim admired the wonder that was the Vulcan penis, standing rigidly before him, it’s long shaft smooth and wet with the fluids that leaked from the tiny slit in the center of the valley of its tip. The tip itself, Jim licked his lips, was not actually a tip, or anywhere near the mushroom shape of his own. Instead, it resembled an over-bloomed rose, in that it was flat in the center and encircled by a short wall of muscle. Muscle that, according to Spock, was prehensile, or that it could…grip or—Jim swallowed again—suction on to certain…things.
“Jim?” Spock’s voice startled him out of his daze, “Are you, that is, when
“I—yes,” he stammered before regaining his composure, “Why don’t we start by undressing?”
“That would be logical,” Spock offered, his voice far less tense than before.
Jim chuckled softly, happy that Spock seemed to be feeling more comfortable. They removed their clothing in companionable silence, until they were both completely exposed, each of them admiring the other. “It occurs to me now,” Spock said whilst observing Jim’s form, “that had T’Pring accepted our betrothal, that the results would have been unchanged.”
“Is that so?” Jim questioned, his eyes shining with warmth.
“Indeed,” he replied. “My physiological reaction to not only your suggestion of physical intimacy but also the appearance of your naked self before me has forced me to acknowledge that I am, within a margin of error of point zero two percent, quite homosexual.”
“Miss Chapel will be disappointed to hear,” Jim teased in response, “but I couldn’t be happier.” All banter ceased when Jim’s knee bore down on the edge of the mattress as he made to straddle Spock’s thighs. “Let’s start with the basics,” he breathed before bending to suck at a bottom lip.
“Mmmph,” Spock moaned aloud, his arms instinctively flying to wrap around Jim’s broad back. He was not entirely sure what this had to do with evoking an ejaculation from his erect phallus, but neither did he particularly care. Jim’s lips were soft and pliant, his tongue wet and coaxing, seeking for…Ah, he realized suddenly, as he opened his mouth to grant the slick muscle entry.
Jim separated their mouths for a moment, his fingers running soothingly through the hair at the back of Spock’s head, “Are you still okay?”
“Yes,” he nodded. It was then that he realized he was panting, his heart rate was increased by eighteen point seven percent and that his organ was throbbing with heightened arousal, “Ah…fascinating.”
“Sorry about that,” Jim apologized for the kiss, even though he figured Spock had enjoyed as much as he had. “I’m supposed to be teaching you how to touch yourself.”
“Actually,” Spock argued, “you are teaching me what ‘feels good,’ Jim. I see no reason why this cannot be achieved through copulation with a partner.”
“An excellent point, Mr. Spock,” Jim grinned, relieved that he might be able to cut loose just a little. He was painfully hard, and there were so many things he wanted to show Spock, so many things he wanted them to try... “I promise to make you feel good in as many places and ways as possible.”
“I trust you, Jim,” Spock replied, eyes closed and body open in complete submission.
He knew their first ‘lesson’ if one could call it that, wasn’t going to last long, judging by how turned on both of them obviously were. So, wanting to at least cover some ground in the area Spock had approached him over in the first place, Jim reached out with a tentative finger to the alien cock that had been beckoning to him from the start. No sooner had he placed his digit in the center of the head, than the surrounding walls closed around it, pulling at his finger instinctively. “Oh…” Jim panted, “that is…really something.”
“Hnnn…” Spock moaned, feeling the slight pressure of the tip of Jim’s finger as it was encased by the head of his cock.
After a moment, the walls opened and Jim withdrew his finger. Hardly able to contain himself, Jim raised up on his hands and knees until he was hovering over Spock’s body, his own organ hanging just above the wonderfully unique cock. Slowly, he lowered himself until the head of his own organ met with that of Spock’s. This time, the walls closed immediately and Jim cried out in sweet blissful agony. More…yes, he needed more of that. “Oh God, Spock,” he moaned, falling beside the Vulcan when he was finally released from its grasp. “Okay,” he panted. “That’s enough fooling around. Let’s get down to it.”
“I agree,” Spock exhaled raggedly. “Only, I do not know quite what that expression entails in regards to this particular situation.”
Jim shakily made his way onto trembling legs and into the bathroom. He hadn’t planned to go this far, but…he couldn’t at the moment think of a better way for both of them to find out what felt best and why not do some experimenting while they were at it? Oh, and by the way, if Spock thought this was going to be their only ‘practice session’ he had an entirely other thing coming. No way in hell was he letting Spock walk out of his room tonight and into the arms of some future lover. Now that Jim knew they were sexually compatible in addition to having complimentary personalities and an indestructible friendship, he was keeping the Vulcan forever.
Returning to the bed, required items in hand, Jim resumed his position straddling his Vulcan, “Spock,” he bent down to kiss his soon-to-be-lover’s lips, “before we do this, I want you to know…I can’t go back afterward. I never thought this would be possible…I never thought you’d be able to see me in that way…but now that I know, I—”
“Jim,” Spock interjected, “May I suggest we discuss a future romantic arrangement between us afterward?”
“Right,” Jim nodded, unexpectedly giddy at Spock’s apparent eagerness. He uncapped the lubricant and slicked two of his fingers, reaching back to circle them around his own entrance. “Next time,” he managed as he slid the first one inside, “I’ll show you how to do this. For tonight, I want you to focus on what your cock feels once it’s inside. Can you do that?”
Spock visibly swallowed, his eyes wide as he watched Jim prepare his own body, adding a second finger, his hips rocking back against his hand. “Yes,” he choked out hoarsely.
Jim nodded at Spock’s affirmation, “Good.” He then withdrew his fingers and applied more lube to the palm of his hand, “I’m going to touch you now. Are you ready?”
Spock nodded, his hips undulating slightly at the mere thought of being touched again, eyes watching eagerly as Jim wrapped his hands around his shaft. He cried out and came, his eyes clamping shut as his chest heaved through his climax and his semen covered them both. When he was capable of opening his eyes again, he noticed that Jim was staring at his phallus in what could only be termed as amazement.
“It’s still…” he observed aloud.
“Yes,” Spock explained. “A mature Vulcan male may ejaculate up to three occasions before his arousal is ‘sated’ as humans say. Under normal circumstances, the frequency can be controlled, however, in my current state; I will not be able to do so.”
Jim’s hazel eyes widened even further, “Are you saying that you might need to get off three times before you’re done?”
“That’s…” Jim seized Spock’s lips, his arousal at an all new intensity. After a few moments, he was able to control himself once again and he stroked the hot shaft in his hand, “Are you ready for more?”
“I am,” Spock breathed, his hips already pumping instinctively into Jim’s fist. “Please continue.”
Feeling more than a little anticipation, Jim lifted his hips and positioned Spock’s organ at his entrance. Amazingly, when the prehensile walls of the tip came into contact with his hole, they shut automatically, forming a bluntly rounded tip that easily slid past the rings of his anal muscle, stretching him slightly further as it unfurled on the inside. “Ah…ah…” he cried wantonly as he slid down onto the invading cock. So good…
“Yes…” Spock breathed once Jim was full seated. “Oh, yes…Jim…”
That was all the warning he received before Jim felt himself being pumped full of what seemed like thirty years of pent-up Vulcan cum. There was more than he could hold, and it seeped out of his hole and squelched between their joined bodies. It was the most erotic experience Jim had ever had, at least, for the next thirty seconds anyway. When Spock calmed down and he began to ride the cock so thoroughly buried inside of him, the prehensile head began to contract and release erratically.
“Oh God!” He practically screamed, as it nudged up against his prostate, the walls of the tip closing and opening against it over and over like a miniature suction cup. “Fuck…fuck…”
“Is something wrong…” Spock managed to ask, spasms of pleasure shooting up his spine making it hard to focus on anything at all, despite his promise to Jim that he would.
“God, no,” Jim moaned. He began to ride Spock harder…faster…rolling his hips over and over unable to get enough. “It’s good…so good…too goddamn good. I never want to stop.”
“Please,” Spock swallowed and closed his eyes, unsure he could cope with both the visual and physical stimulation all at once, “do not.”
Jim had never been so turned on in his life, had never felt anything like Spock’s hot cock inside of him. He may never top again, by choice. Hell, force, if need be. It wasn’t long before it all crested and he was shouting his orgasm, that gripping tip sucking on his prostate the whole way through as he shot off all over Spock’s chest and stomach. He felt the Vulcan tense beneath him, and soon he was being filled with even more semen, Spock’s shaft slipping in and out with wet ease. When they were both finally cognizant enough for coherent speech, it was Spock who broke the blissfully sated silence between them.
“I do not believe, despite my attempts to contemplate the sensations during coitus, that I will ever be able to replicate them using manual stimulation,” he stoically informed.
Jim chuckled breathlessly against him, “Well then, I guess we’ll just have to do it like this from now on.”
“Indeed,” Spock’s voice was full of unVulcan satisfaction, “I am amenable to that suggestion.”