Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 21 Apr 2004 16:21:32 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com (whoa nellie) 
 

Title: Goose and Gander
Author: Whoa Nellie (whoa_nellie40@hotmail.com)
Series: TNG
Repost: 5/7
Rating: NC-17
Codes: P/Vash
Summary: With a little more than a month left until Picard and Vash's
Author's Note:  Feel free to archive to any pertinent site.  In
preparation to play in our Double Entendre universe in the coming
year, we're reposting the stories from that universe as a refresher
(or introduction to those who haven't read our earlier work).  These
stories have been polished up a bit, but they are still are earliest
pieces from when we began writing nearly a decade ago.  Edited-down
versions of most of our stories can be found through our author page
at fanfiction.net:

http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=85355
  
As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun
playing with them.
Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail. 

Whoa Nellie's Picard/Vash Romance Fan Fiction website is at:
http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Galaxy/7926/

Whoa Nellie's Sci-Fi Romance Fan Fiction website is at:
http://www.geocities.com/whoa_nellies2000/

Continued from Part 4

	One week later, early Friday afternoon, Picard walked down the
corridors of the Enterprise toward his quarters.  He nodded politely
to two young ensigns who were replacing a short length of conduit
behind one of the computer interfaces.  Lieutenant Barclay approached
needing the proper authorization codes to finish an upgrade on the
brig's forcefields.  As he rounded a corner, Geordi stopped him to ask
how he wanted a crew rotation problem handled.  Beverly met him at the
turbolift with a question concerning her latest equipment requisition.
 When he exited the turbolift, Data was waiting to inform him about a
malfunction that had occurred with one of the newest sensor units just
installed.  After passing through what seemed to be an endless
gauntlet of officers with questions for him, Picard sighed with relief
as he finally reached his quarters and stepped inside.

	He could hear some up-tempo contemporary music coming from the
bedroom.  Setting the PADD he had been carrying down on his desk, he
noticed Charcoal, Vash's small black kitten, curled up asleep in his
desk chair.  He regarded the tiny animal and quietly noted,  "Well
cat, don't you look comfortable.  Only one problem, that's my chair. 
Yours is over there."  Picard pointed to the pet bed in the corner of
the room.  Almost as if considering his words, the small kitten looked
up at him and then over at the white wicker basket with its fluffy,
pink satin pillow.  With a yawn, the cat rose, stretched, and curled
right back up in the desk chair.  With a small chuckle, he reached
down to scratch the pampered animal behind it's ears, "You're just
like your mistress, she doesn't follow orders either."

	Picard made his way to the bedroom.  As he stood in the doorway, he
couldn't help but grin at the sight in front of him.  The bed was
completely covered in women's clothing.  There were blouses, skirts,
and dresses of all styles with good amount of lingerie scattered in
with them.  At least a dozen pairs of shoes were strewn across the
floor next to the bed.  He decided one of two things had happened. 
Either Vash's ever-increasing half of the closet had finally exploded
or she was having trouble deciding what to wear for her party tonight.

	Vash's voice could be heard from the bathroom as she sang along to
the music, unaware of his presence.  The lyrics were rather racy,
filled with blatant sexual innuendo, and Vash was crooning along with
jubilant abandon.  Several articles of clothing were tossed out of the
bathroom door, landing on the bed in perfect time to the music. 
Taking a few cautious steps into the room, Picard suppressed the urge
to say 'I'm home, dear,' and instead opted for, "Hello."

	Startled out of her singing, Vash turned the music down and called
out from the bathroom, "Hey, what are you doing here?"

	Picard carefully cleared off a corner of the bed so he could sit
down, "The last time I checked the crew manifest, I lived here."

	"Really, you don't say," she quipped as she checked her makeup and
hair in the bathroom mirror.  "All I meant was it's just a little
unusual for you to show up at home in the middle of the day like
this."

	"Since you ladies are going to be gone tonight, Will and I figured we
could work on the progress reports over dinner in my ready room. 
That, of course, left me free to come home for a long lunch.  Is there
anything wrong with a man coming home to have lunch with his lovely
bride-to-be?"

	"Not at all," Vash called to him as she made some adjustments to her
hairstyle.  "It's just that normally, you prefer to replicate
something in your readyroom and have to be practically pried off the
bridge just to have lunch in the forward lounge."

	"No wonder," he told her.  "While walking here I was bombarded by
officers, most of them needing something and the ones that didn't need
anything just smiled at me.  I know what they're thinking."

	Vash giggled, "Johnny, you might want to talk to Dee about that
slight paranoia streak of yours."

	"They don't do that to Will," he lamented.

	"That's because you make it much more fun," she reasoned, sounding
amused.  "First of all, the real fun is in the guessing and with you
they are guessing.  They know what Will is up to.  It's old hat.  The
man wears his sexual prowess like a medal of honor.  Secondly, you,
darling, are the Captain.  I'm sure after we've become an 'old married
couple' they'll move on to something more exciting like speculating on
Data's love life."

	"Are you ever coming out of there?" Picard chuckled, changing the
subject.

	"Yes," Vash cooed, "when I'm ready and not before."

	"Oh, I see," he retorted. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what are
the big plans for tonight?"

	"We are planning a Girls' Night Out," she told him as she checked her
lipstick.

	"Which entails?" he prompted, fishing for details.

	"It's kind of a tradition that started in grad-school," Vash smiled
at the memory.  "My group of girlfriends would get together one Friday
night every month and go club-hopping.  Dressed up in our sexiest
'date' outfits, we would hit the dance floors, dancing and flirting
outrageously.  The one rule was that it was strictly a 'no men' night.
 No matter what the offer was or who made it, you turned it down. 
Even if it was your current 'steady' asking for a dance, you blew him
off in favor of the girls.  You could arrange to meet or talk later
with whomever, but that night was strictly off limits."

	"Vash," Picard blinked in shock, "are you telling me that you ladies
entertained yourselves by dressing provocatively, going out to
deliberately attract the attention of young men, and then shooting
down any poor fool brave enough to make an offer?"

	"Yep," she chirped shamelessly.

	"Chere, that is not a night out, it's an ambush,"  he protested with
a groan of sympathy for all the past victims of this ritual,  "a
sadistic, cold-blooded ambush."

	"It was a hobby," Vash noted nostalgically.  "We even kept score."

	"It sounds like an ancient game of skeet shooting with all of mankind
being used as the clay targets," he replied dryly.

	"Pull!" she shouted teasingly.

	"So, who is going to be participating in tonight's blood-sport?" he
asked with a sigh of resignation from where he sat on the edge of the
bed.

	"I'm sorry, darling, but I didn't quite catch that," Vash admitted as
she moved to stand in the open doorway of the bathroom.

	"I asked . . ." Picard's voice trailed off, his attention captured by
the way the straps of her high-heeled, white pumps wrapped around her
slender ankles.  His eyes slowly traveled up the shapely length of her
legs, which were encased in a shimmery mist of silk stockings.  Just
as he was beginning to wonder if there was a skirt, his eyes reached
her mid-thigh and the hem of her mini-skirt.  The white suede of the
skirt molded itself to the slight flair of her hips and her tiny
waist.  Pearl buttons ran up the front of the matching white, suede
vest.  The fitted vest had long, full sleeves of sheer white chiffon
that ended in tight cuffs at her wrists.  The plunging sweetheart
neckline displayed an audacious amount of her décolletage.  Her hair
fell in soft curls to her shoulders, framing her rose-petal lips, the
slight blush of her cheeks and the flutter of her suspiciously-dark
lashes.  As she stood poised in the doorway, she exuded an air of
seductive mystique that left him breathless.  Completely taken by
surprise, he gasped under his breath, "Oh my!"

	A small smile played at Vash's lips as she mentally placed the first
mark on her score-card for the night.  Jean-Luc's astonishment was
written plainly on his face.  She had seen his eyes widen as his jaw
dropped and had heard him gasp under his breath.  Never one to miss an
opportunity, she thought, 'Let the games begin.'  Bending over forward
at the waist, she reached down with both hands and splayed her fingers
around one of her ankles.  Leisurely, she slid her hands up the length
of her leg, smoothing out her stocking.  She peered at him
flirtatiously out of the corner of her eyes, "You wanted to ask me
something, Jean-Luc?"

	"I, uh, I wanted . . ." Picard broke off when Vash's hands reached
the hem of her skirt.  The soft suede began to inch higher and higher
as her fingers glided up her silk covered thigh until they reached the
lace edge of the stocking.  The sight made it difficult for him to
remember exactly what the conversation had been.  Helplessly, his eyes
followed her hands as she repeated the procedure with the other leg.

	Vash was inwardly amused as she saw Jean-Luc shake his head slightly
and swallow hard.  She stood up straight, running her hands from her
waist down over her hips to smooth out her skirt.  She was thoroughly
enjoying herself and could see his eyes were now that telltale steel
grey.  Very aware of the amount cleavage displayed by the plunging
neckline, Vash reached up to toy with the first pearl button on her
vest.  Her voice was low and sultry, "You wanted?"

	'I want to show you how quickly I could undo all of those damn
buttons,' Picard thought to himself as he watched her fiddle with the
button.  Noticing the mischievous sparkle that lit her blue eyes, he
realized exactly what she was doing.  If she wanted to play, so be it.
 After all, he was convinced that most of his crew thought that was
what he was doing.  Tugging at his uniform jacket, he stood up to
better engage the little minx.

	As Jean-Luc stood, confident determination blazed in his steel-grey
eyes.  Vash's breath caught in her throat at the way his natural
commanding presence revealed itself in his handsome, chiseled
features.  Seeing his demeanor change, Vash knew she had lost the
element of surprise.  'Serve and volley,' she thought to herself as
Jean-Luc slowly advanced toward her without a word, 'so he wants to
play.'  He stopped directly in front of her.  With only a few inches
of space between them, the clean, masculine scent of his aftershave
tantalized her.  Taking the offensive, she brazenly met Jean-Luc's
gaze, "What was it you wanted to ask?"

	Picard gazed down at her lovely face for a long moment, his eyes
lingering on her full, inviting lips.  He lowered his face until his
lips were just a hairsbreadth from hers.  In a rich, bedroom baritone,
he whispered, "It will wait, Vash."

	Vash found herself mesmerized by Jean-Luc's masterful voice.  Her
gaze was drawn to the firm set of his mouth, silently willing him to
kiss her.  Reaching up with one hand, she ran the tips of her fingers
sensuously over his bottom lip.  She trailed her fingertips up the
strong, square line of his jaw, gently cupping his cheek in the palm
of her hand.  Refusing to wait another moment, Vash crushed her lips
to Jean-Luc's in a deep, ravenous kiss.  She used the hand that had
been cupping his cheek to coax open his mouth, allowing her tongue to

Attachment Converted: "C:\Attachments\thorough exploration of the warm, moist cavern."
his mouth.  Every muscle in his body tightened with the surge of
arousal that rushed through him.  His hands moved to span her tiny
waist, feeling the smooth suede beneath his fingertips.  Slowly, he
slid his hands up the soft material to her breasts.  Vash's arms
encircled his neck and she arched into him as he caressed the full
curves through her vest.  He deepened the kiss, forcing his own tongue
past hers in his own erotic investigation of her mouth.  His hands
traveled possessively over her, demanding access to every curve.  His
arms slipped around her, his hands finding the roundness of her
derriere.  Cupping the supple flesh in his hands, he roughly pulled
her against him as his tongue continued to plunder the depths of her
mouth.

	Vash savored the feel of her body crushed against Jean-Luc's hard
length.  The warmth of his strong hands through the thin material of
her skirt was driving her to distraction.  Bracing her hands on his
broad shoulders, she pushed back slightly and broke the kiss. 
Throwing her head back and drawing in huge gulps of air, Vash tried to
gain control over her own increasing desires.  It wasn't easy.  Every
breath forced the stiff peaks of her breasts up against the muscular
wall of his chest.  Jean-Luc took advantage of her bared throat and
trailed heated kisses over the sensitive area.  Firmly reminding
herself that she was the one who was supposed to be doing the
seducing, Vash purred, "Does this mean you like the outfit?"

	"It's lovely," Picard murmured into her soft skin as he continued to
nibble on her neck.  Anticipating a strategic retreat on the part of
his enchanting adversary, he tightened his hold on her backend
slightly.  "And it's going to look even lovelier piled on the floor
next to the bed."

	"Ohhh," she cooed teasingly as she tried to wiggle backward in a
futile attempt to escape his embrace.  "Is that where it's going?"

	Pulling back slightly, Picard gave Vash his most suave smile and
assured her. "Oh yes, that is exactly where it's going."

	Vash was contemplating her next possible move when Jean-Luc's
communicator chirped.  With a triumphant look, Vash inquired, "Don't
you think you ought to answer that?"

	"Yes, I should," he admitted, albeit reluctantly.  Still, he held her
tightly to him.

	After a long moment, the communicator chirped again.  Raising an
eyebrow, Vash playfully noted, "Johnny, you will have to take at least
one hand off my ass to do that."

	"Such are the burdens of command," Picard quipped as he reached up
with one hand to activate his communicator.

	As she turned to move from Jean-Luc's embrace, Vash felt his other
hand firmly pinch her behind before letting go.  After placing a few
steps between them, she spun back around to see him smile,
insufferably pleased with himself, as he spoke into his comm-badge,
"Picard."

	"Riker, here sir," Will Riker sounded a little concerned, the captain
usually answered hails very promptly.

	"Sorry about the delay, Number One," Picard looked over at Vash
meaningfully as he continued, "but, I had my hands full."

	Riker exchanged a baffled look with Data.  Rather than go there, he
decided to get right to business.  "Data and I wanted to let you know
that we managed to fix the new sensor unit and it's now on line."

	"Well done, gentlemen," Picard replied into his communicator as he
openly admired the feminine jewel standing next to his bed.  "I look
forward to hearing all the details . . . when I get back from lunch. 
Picard out."

	As soon as the channel was closed, Vash giggled, "hands full!  I
can't believe you actually said that to Will."

	"Out of everyone onboard, he should have known," Picard chuckled as
he pulled the communicator off his uniform jacket and tossed the
offending object onto the bed.

	Reaching over to the nightstand, Vash picked up a pair of pearl drop
earrings.  As she put them on, she asked flirtatiously, "Now, where
were we?"

	"I believe," Picard observed, as he closed the distance between them,
"that you were busy sexually tormenting the good captain of this fine
vessel."

	"Why, Mon Capitaine," she gushed, looking up at him coyly through her
lashes.  "What would ever make you say such a thing?"

	Picard's eyes traveled over Vash, lingering on the generous length of
leg revealed by the short skirt, before returning to her face.  As he
spoke, his deep, resonating voice took on a decidedly wolfish tone.
"Perhaps, just perhaps, it's the way you bent over to smooth out your
hosiery, surreptitiously exposing as much of those long legs of yours
as possible.  Shall I even mention the way you played with your top
button, making damn sure I noticed that the vest revealed more of your
cleavage than it covered."

	"Really, monsieur, I was simply preparing for a night out," Vash
professed, feigning a breathless naiveté.  Making huge doe-eyes at
him, she reached up to leisurely trace the rank pips on the collar of
his burgundy uniform tunic.  "Although, I'll admit there may have been
a bit of innocent flirtation involved."

	"Uh-huh," Picard uttered, not buying the explanation for a second. 
She was playing with his rank pips, which meant she was plotting
something.  He could only watch in astonishment as her entire demeanor
changed from impish vixen to wanton vamp in the blink of an eye.

	Vash's voice became low and seductive, "But if sexual torment is your
desire, by all means, let's go there."  Without prelude, her hand
reached up to grip the upper edge of his uniform jacket and, in one
swift motion, ripped the snaps open down the front.  She quickly slid
both her hands up to his shoulders and pulled the jacket down to his
wrists.  Leaving his hands effectively bound behind his back, she
began boldly stroking and caressing his bulging biceps and rippling
chest.  Grasping the top edges of his tunic, Vash strongly jerked the
tunic open and down to join the jacket around his wrists.  She stepped
in closer, flicking the hardened nipples through the fabric of his
T-shirt.  As one hand continued to twirl and caress one nipple, she
lowered her head to lick and nip at the other.  Not satisfied, she
gave in to her desire to taste him and moved her mouth up to run her
tongue lightly along his very clenched jawline.

	Picard suppressed a moan as he felt her warm, moist tongue tormenting
him through the thin fabric and he renewed his efforts to free his
arms still trapped behind his back.  He shifted closer, pressing
himself into her mouth as he felt her tongue along his jaw.  Streaks
of fire shot through his body when her mouth began sucking strongly at
the sensitive skin along the side of his throat.  He almost let loose
a Klingon howl of triumph as he succeeded in freeing his arms to grab
his torturous fiancee'.

	His triumph was short-lived as Vash just narrowly avoided his grasp. 
She had quickly moved to stand a few steps behind him, leaving him
staring at the empty space between himself and the bed.  Picard turned
to face her.  Every muscle in his body tightened in fervent response
to the seductress that met his eyes.  Vash was standing with her legs
apart and her hands on her hips, her wide stance causing the hem of
her skirt to rise to a precarious level.  Now unbuttoned halfway, her
vest parted to reveal a brassiere of white Venetian lace sprinkled
with tiny sequins.  The lush curves of her breasts appeared to
overwhelm their glittering confines.  She slowly advanced on him,
until she was only an arm's length away.  When she raised one hand to
lay it flat against the center of his chest, he noticed that her
fingernails were slightly longer than usual and manicured in a rich
pink color that matched her lips.  Forcing his gaze back up to her
face, his breath caught in his throat at the carnal fire that blazed
in her blue eyes.

	"Breathe, baby," Vash commanded in a lascivious tone.  She reveled in
the ragged sound his breath made as he inhaled shakily.  Using the
hand she had splayed across the center of his muscular chest, she
pushed Jean-Luc backward until he bumped against the bed.  With one
last nudge, he dropped to sit on the bed.

	Picard tightly gripped the edge of the bed as Vash took a small step
back from him and leisurely undid the rest of the buttons on her vest.
 With a gentle roll of her shoulders, she slid the vest off in one
fluid movement.  He found himself spellbound by the way the creamy
skin of her slender midriff disappeared beneath the white suede of her
skirt.  She  slowly and deliberately unfastened each of the clasps
that ran along the right side of the skirt from her waist down the
curve of her hip.  Picard's pulse quickened as the skirt glided past
her hips and down the length of her legs to unveil thong panties of
white Venetian lace covered in tiny sequins.  The enchanting nymph
standing before him was now clad only in high heels, silk stockings
and matching brassiere and panties.  That was if that itty-bitty scrap
of sparkling material could actually be considered a pair of panties. 
Trying to regain some control over the situation, Picard reached out
to run his hand up her silk covered right thigh to the soft skin of
her bare hip.  His tone charmingly wry, he teased, "On a night when
you won't be with me, you choose to wear this particular pair of
panties."

	Vash's skin tingled from the heat of Jean-Luc's hand resting on her
hip.  The resulting rush of desire only served to embolden her.  She
braced her hands on his broad shoulders and leaned toward him, her
right knee finding purchase in the mattress next to him.  Staring
brazenly into his smoldering grey eyes, she informed him in her finest
bedroom voice, "If I were going to be with you tonight I wouldn't need
panties."

	"Heaven help me," Picard muttered at her words as he closed his eyes
briefly and swallowed hard.  The sweet scent of her favorite perfume
along with the sight of her curvaceous silhouette so scantily attired
was playing havoc with his senses.

	Bringing her other knee up onto the bed, Vash straddled Jean-Luc's
lap.  His lips were firm but pliant as she seized them with her own in
a fiercely demanding kiss.  Her hands drifted over the corded muscles
of his shoulders and arms, lingering on the bulging biceps of his
upper arms.  Vash's own arousal was becoming more and more inflamed by
the feel of the hard, length of his body beneath her.  As her tongue
searched his mouth, she slid her hands down the lean tapering lines of
his torso to the waistband of his trousers.  Impatiently, her fingers
tugged at his T-shirt yanking it free of his waistband.  Her hands
glided over the sculpted muscles of his chest as she pushed his
T-shirt up.  She finally broke the kiss allowing him to strip his
T-shirt off over his head.  With Jean-Luc stripped to the waist,
Vash's eyes drank in the tightly leashed strength of the well-defined
muscles of his chest, shoulders and arms.  As she explored the expanse
of his chest, her hands delighted in the rippling pectorals and coarse
chest hair.  Still breathless from the kiss, her voice came out husky
and passion-laced, "You're so much like the ship you command, dear
Captain.  You have such sleek lines with a graceful, hard form.  It
just barely contains a scintillating mind that guides such amazing
power.  You are, without a doubt the flagship captain of the fleet. 
Such raw virility can be physically overwhelming to a poor, innocent
girl."

	The tone of Vash's voice along with the feel of her small hands
roaming over his chest and arms drove Picard's need up yet another
notch.  His arms encircled her, his palms slipping around her tiny
waist to skim up the feminine curve of her spine to the brassiere
strap.  Deftly, he undid the clasp.  As he discarded the bra, his
heated gaze took in her breasts with their creamy roundness tipped in
deep rosy peaks.  Cupping her breasts possessively in his hands, he
gently caressed the hardened nipples with his thumbs.  With a sigh,
Vash arched herself into his ministrations, her small hands clutching
his shoulders.  Aching to claim the seductive vixen, one hand moved
around to cup her head and pull her down to his lips in a forceful
kiss.  His tongue plunged past her parted lips, laying claim to
everything in it's path.  Sliding both of his arms to encircle her
waist, he crushed the supple curves of her body tightly against him. 
His mouth left her soft, swollen lips almost reluctantly, moving down
to nudge beneath a curtain of brown hair, nuzzling the sensitive spot
under her earlobe.

	Picard's voice took on a smooth, honeyed baritone timbre, "You are so
amazing.  Every time I see you I want you more.  Just watching you
from across the lounge I want to grab you, claim you in front of
everyone and carry you off here, to my quarters.  Locking the door, I
would slowly peel every strip of clothing off your delectable body and
make love to you for days.  I want to take you leisurely and watch the
passion in your eyes as you respond to me.  I want to take you hard
and fast, claiming and possessing every inch of you for myself.  I
want you to forget every man before me."

	"Oh Jean-Luc, I adore your voice," Vash sighed ardently, rolling her
head back to bare her throat to the gentle onslaught of his mouth. 
She was very conscious of the stiff peaks of her breasts crushed
against the muscular wall of his chest.  She pulled back slightly to
gaze into his steel-grey eyes.

	"Your voice alone claims me.  My body responds to your deep, sexy,
resonating voice like a physical caress," Vash purred, reaching up
with a hand to run her fingertips sensuously over his lower lip.  She
began slowly moving her hands down him, her fingertips brushing over
his coarse chest hair and down the taut strength of his abdomen.  As
her fingertips inched their way toward the waistband of his trousers,
she upped the ante.  "Do you know there are times when the mere sound
of your voice is enough to make me wet?"

	Vash's fingers halted just at his waistband.  Tormenting him with her
own sexual arousal, she rasped, "And at the moment, I am really wet,
so wet and ready for you."

	"Sacre Bleu!" Picard cursed hoarsely under his breath as Vash's
erotic admission caused his desire to climb to an almost unbearable
level.

	"Johnny, I'll bet you're really hard," Vash taunted seductively,
hearing him curse in his native French.  Deciding to press her
advantage, she slipped her hands lower to find the evidence of his
need for her.  His hard length strained impressively against fabric of
his trousers, throbbing against her hands as she caressed him. 
Leaning into him to nibble on the sensitive spot just below his ear,
she murmured, "You know a shuttle would make things easier tonight."

	Picard fought for control as Vash deftly opened his trousers and
grasped him with an even more insistent touch.  He thought he might
lose his mind from the sensations caused by her delicate, skillful
hands.  With a low groan, he managed to choke out, "take the Captain's
yacht."

	"Merci beaucoup, mon Capitaine," Vash cooed breathlessly against his
neck, as her hands continued the familiar rhythm.  "You're so hard and
I'm aching to feel your body buried deep inside mine."

	'Have at you!' Picard thought to himself as he decided playtime was
over and enough was enough. Turning his face, his mouth found hers,
capturing it in a deep, savage kiss.  As his mouth took command of
hers, he slid one hand to cup her panties, his fingers slipping past
the thin, sequined material to invade and stroke the very center of
her desire.  He was extremely gratified to discover she was as aroused
as she had claimed.

	"Please . . .Jean-Luc . . . please, " Vash panted mindlessly,
breaking the kiss.  Her hands moved to clutch his broad shoulders, her
body arching like a drawn bow as his talented fingers continued to
caress and fill her erotically.  Vash tossed her head as the exquisite
torment drove her to near insanity.

	Picard grasped her in his muscular arms and spun them, pushing her
back onto the bed and swiftly covering her with his own hard body. 
Lowering his head, he claimed the stiff nipple of one of her breasts
in his mouth, sending shockwaves over her inflamed nerves as he
swirled his tongue over the sensitive peak.  As he feasted on the
sweet crests of her lush breasts, his hands swiftly slid her panties
down the length of her legs dropping them to the floor.  Lifting his
head up, he looked down at her lovely face, her eyes closed in
ecstasy.  Her eyes fluttered open and her gaze locked with his. 
Bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders, he placed himself
between her long, shapely legs.  From deep in his throat, he growled
softly, "Now mademoiselle."

	"Ohhhh Jean-Luc," Vash moaned as Jean-Luc entered her with one
powerful thrust, his throbbing length gliding easily into her heated
depths.  She matched him motion for motion as he drove into her hard
and fast.  She could feel him bury himself deep inside of her, filling
her completely with each thrust.  Her hands stroked the tightly
sculpted muscles of his arms, feeling the strong muscles ripple and
bunch with every forceful movement of his body.  She cried out his
name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her and his body
violently plummeted into her own.

	A thin sheen of perspiration covered Picard's body as he struggled to
keep from losing himself to the burning pleasure of her body moving in
complete synchronization with his own.  Vash's sweet cries of passion
spurred him on to even higher heights of desire.  Fiercely, he drove
himself deep into her and the cadence became one of furious intensity
as he demanded total possession of her body.

	"Now. . . Jean-Luc!  Ohhh . . . yes . . . now!"  Vash screamed out as
the overwhelming pressure mounting inside her finally detonated in an
explosive release of wave after wave of ecstasy.

	"Yes, Vash," Picard hissed triumphantly as he continued to drive his
body into hers relentlessly.  As he thrust himself into her with an
ever increasing urgency, the tension she had been building in him all
afternoon finally reached a crescendo.  With one last forceful thrust,
he held himself deep inside her as his own powerful release ripped
through him.

	Collapsing onto Vash, Picard's body was damp and his breathing
labored from the physical exertion.  He let out a contented sigh as he
felt her small hands traveling over the muscles of his back.

End Part 5

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Awards Tech Support

http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/

No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards

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