Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newshub.sdsu.edu!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: From: "lyrastarwatcher" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TOS: Apollo Physician 2/7 (K/Mc)[NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Lines: 602 Date: Sat, 13 Nov 2004 05:55:07 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1100325307 209.198.142.218 (Sat, 13 Nov 2004 00:55:07 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 13 Nov 2004 00:55:07 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:85560 X-Received-Date: Fri, 12 Nov 2004 21:55:14 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: Apollo Physician [NC-17] part 2/7 Author: Lyrastar url: www.geocities.com/lyrastarwatcher/apollo for easier reading ---------- Chapter 2 --Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves.--From the Oath of Hippocrates The "image preservation" of historical areas like the Vieux Carre, had been one of the more sensitive issues before the North American advisory board. Advances in transportation meant that tourism had outstripped land area, so many popular historical districts were being expanded by annexing neighboring territory. Buildings were then remodeled to fit the period. Now the French Quarter had been expanded well past Canal, swelling it to four times its original area. It had been a global joke that only North Americans could find a way to make new antiques--if there were enough money in it, that is. We wove along the cobblestones and past the barred and shuttered windows. I wondered absently whether these houses were old or new, how one could tell the difference, and if it really mattered as long as the image was convincing. Image doesn't mean squat I thought. Much like my own life. Four months ago I had been the ideal family man; look at me now. I can't say I was completely sorry. The Joey who threw me out was nothing like the person I had married. I missed the company, the safe routine of our picket fence life. But most of all I felt like a failure. It was a man's job to make his family work, and that I hadn't done. When it came right down to it, that failure gnawed at me more than the breakup of my marriage. I had failed someone who trusted me, and that was hard to accept. It would have been a lie to say I wanted Joey--Joanna, I corrected myself--back for my own sake. Mostly I was sorry that I couldn't make myself feel more sorry. We had reached the main door on Baronne. The Fairmont was one of the few buildings in the Transformation zone that hadn't been razed but left in its original fading glory. The gilt trim glittered in the dying light and the brass revolving door turned slowly for each guest. The ceiling arched up--a ridiculous waste of space--and flowers, gigantic arrangements of real, fresh flowers, stood everywhere. I felt distinctly underdressed in my jeans and T, but the kid seemed right at home. He walked as if he owned the place straight through the lobby to the lifts. How could a navy brat afford a place like this? The question popped into my head as he hit the 10th floor button. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd been hit on by a hustler, but it might well be the best. I turned to ask him what I should have thought of in the bar, but he moved before I could speak. The kid cupped his hand over my jaw and cocked his head until our noses nested together neatly in the middle. Taking his time, the kid kissed me fully on the mouth. His tongue pried at my lips, wedging its way in until it found mine. He slid one arm around my waist and rocked his hips, rubbing the fullness in his crotch against my hip. He didn't ask, but moved himself where it suited him best. My body didn't wasn't raising any objections. My breathing grew harder and I finally broke away, shifting from foot to foot to relieve some of the pressure in my pants. There was a pressure someplace else, someplace sweeter and deeper as well. After four months it was so nice not to be alone. "Okay?" he said. A fine bloody time to ask. "Are you a hustler?" He laughed with his eyes and repeated my words. "If I said 'yes', would that change everything?" "Hey, wasn't that my line?" The kid chuckled, "Relax. It's nothing like that. I'm just an average guy with a weekend pass and no one to share it with--and wishing that were different. And it's Jim, by the way. Jim Kirk." The lift opened and we stepped out into the hall. The walls closed in on each other, making the hallway feel a little tight, but the d=E9cor was just as sumptuous as the lobby had been. "Fleet benefits must be pretty good," I said. Jim snorted. "As a cadet--hardly. My dad was killed. We got a settlement. And besides--this place isn't as pricey as you think. I get a Service rate." We stopped in front of 1024. Jim pressed his fingerprint to the lock and the door slid open. I started to brush past. "I'm sure your dad would have been real proud of the way you're spending it." Jim stopped me in the doorway and drilled his hazel eyes into me. "Yes, I think he would. We were a lot alike." Then he kissed me again. It was a long minute later that we made it all the way inside and allowed the door to close. Inside the room, his hands reached under my shirt. At his touch on my nipple, I balked. I broke the kiss and dropped my bag on the table. "I guess I'll go clean up--unless you want to go first that is." Jim shrugged and tossed himself onto the bed. "Go ahead. I'll wait." The bath was compact but efficient. With one hand I tested the shower. It ran water, like everywhere in the Vieux Carre. As I waited for it to heat, I stripped and examined myself in the mirror. It had been ten years since I'd been naked with anyone besides Joey. I wanted to see what Jim would see. Compared to Jim, my body no longer had that ineffable glow of youth, but it was still tight and not half bad. The last few months of involuntary bachelorhood had taken off the love handles that the complacency of marriage had attracted. I turned to the side. Joey had always said that my butt was my best asset, but I don't know. I'd always preferred chests and abs myself. Still, for twenty-eight I was holding up pretty well in both arenas, if the opinion of the hospital nursing staff was to be believed. I flexed for the mirror. Yeah, you've still got it, baby. With that thought, I hopped under the shower and soaped up. Soaped, scrubbed and rinsed, I cinched a towel around my waist and ran the desiccator through my hair. I guess this was as good as it was going to get. Go get 'em Lenny. I turned the handle and stepped back into the main room. The kid was stretched out on the bed, naked, flipping through the news stations. His body was toned and sculpted; it rippled when he moved. When he saw me, he turned off the screen. "Jesus, you're beautiful," he said, uncannily echoing my thoughts. I felt my face flush. I had been told that often enough before, but it had been quite a while, and it had never been quite like this. He raised a glass. Even from here I recognized that smell. My stomach pitched. Jack Daniels, my father's brand. "Want a drink?" he asked. "No thanks; I don't drink." "Problem?" I didn't hear judgment, just curiosity, but the mere suggestion irked me anyway. "No, and I plan to keep it that way." It came out sounding pretty testy, even for me. I'm not sure when I realized that my father was an alcoholic. Probably before I had ever heard the word. Through most of my childhood the peculiar scent of that sourmash reeked from his skin and breath whenever he picked me up or held me close. I didn't know what it was back then; it was just my dad. It had always been a part of him, even after he sobered up--oddly enough. When I had been young, it was sometimes fun and sometimes scary. I never knew what to expect. Sometimes he would roll and play in the yard with me and my friends, just like a kid. He'd fling us around until Mom ran out in her house-slippers screaming at him to stop. Sometimes he'd fall--or sling one of us too hard and then someone would cry. Then he'd get mad and Mom would be screaming again for him to leave us alone, but her voice would be all different then. By the time he cleaned himself up, my mother was already dying. Although ten years of medical training stated that there was no relationship, the vestiges of tentative adolescent understanding whispered insistently that it was all his fault--that if he had been a better husband (and father), she would still be here. Or maybe it was more projection. If I had been a better child-- But I don't like to think that way. Either way, his drinking was one thing he couldn't make me emulate. He could saddle me with his name and his genes and even steer me into his career, but he couldn't push his poison down my throat. The kid was off the bed and standing now, the glass of whiskey in his hand. I didn't remember seeing him get up. "Huh?" "I said, 'Do you mind if I do?'" "No, sure, go ahead. It's just not for me." He took a sip, then set the glass down deliberately on the nightstand and swaggered over to me. He moved with an easy confidence, as if ever conscious of what his body could do. He tugged at my towel until it gave and whispered something to me, his lips brushing against my ear. "So are you," I said, as he coated my neck with feather-light kisses. I felt the predictable response rising between our bodies, the twinned movements, one quickening at the feel of the other. It was a sense only two men could know--completely different from anything I had shared with my wife--and surprisingly easy and right in its simplicity. I vaguely remembered some awkward teenage experimentation, but this kid--this man--was a brave new world. I closed my eyes--it might be easier that way--and let my body simply feel. He reached around for my ass and pressed his tongue into my mouth, hard, not waiting for permission. The whiskey still soaked his mouth and I tasted the burn of its smoky-smooth caramel transfer from his mouth to mine. He raised his other arm and wrapped it around me, pulling me tightly against his body. His hair held the not-so- pleasant smells of the bar and the rest of a day spent god-knows where. From his underarm the strong odor of sweat and work reached my nose and I pulled away with some reluctance. "You're next in the shower," I said. I moved to the bed and made preparations, turning down the sheets, folding my towel on the nightstand. Some might have called it nervous fidgeting--so what? Didn't I deserve a fidget or two? Ten years with the same person is a long time when you're twenty-eight. He stood there a while, with his pretty pink dick pointing up and eager towards his belly. Maybe he was waiting to see if I was serious, or maybe he was just watching my ass--I don't know. "Sure. Sure, whatever you say," he said finally, and ran through a record- fast shower. While he was in the bath, I rummaged through my bag. A tube of enteroscopic lubricant, that would do. Of course I had had all the standard vaccines, but if the kid was really Starfleet, what if he'd picked up some alien funk? Damn. I hadn't thought about barriers in ten years. I checked the room-service program. Sure enough, a tube of Neotex spray-on could be ordered up easily enough, but that was such a nuisance to get off, and as high-schoolish as it sounded, it did spoil the feeling. Still, better safe than sorry, and a doctor should know better than to take chances. I had crouched down to the room-service unit to plug in the code, when he walked up behind me and swatted me on the ass. "Change your mind about that drink?" "No, I was going to get some biobarrier." He snorted. "Suit yourself, Blue Eyes, but Starfleet, gives us every immunization known to the Federation and a few experimental ones to boot. We go through decontam after every mission and routinely once a month just because. You've got less chance of catching anything from me than from that door handle." He nodded to the old fashioned knob on the bathroom door. Looking at the intricate pattern of ridges on the crystal knob, my bet was that he was right. But you can always lose a bet; I stood up to spray on the Neotex coating. Jim had paced over to the bed and picked up the tube. He read the label and turned it over in his hand. "You do travel prepared, don't you? You do this a lot?" "Not hardly," I snorted. "It's medical; I'm a doctor, not a gigolo." "Really?" Jim said, setting the tube down. "Yeah. And it's Lenny, by the way," I added, joining him by the bed. He was warm and steamy all over. His wet hair clung in curls around his head and lower as well and I lost all interest in barriers. "Lenny," Jim repeated with a soft smile. "I like that." Then he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me for all he was worth. We made it onto the bed soon enough. It was the kissing that surprised me most. I hadn't expected that from a one-night-stand. And he was a good kisser too, firm, but slow and thorough, with feeling--more feeling than had stirred in me in a very long time. We kissed until the kissing became torture. I tried to touch him, but he wouldn't let me. He rubbed our bodies together in the middle, hands caressing, mouths seeking, organs aching hard and unsatisfied. When I started to get anywhere close, Jim covered me with the weight of his body, and allowing only the smallest of movements, nipples to nipples, abs to abs, cock to cock, began the earnest kissing all over again. I pressed myself into him, rocking back and forth against the crook of his leg. He was smooth and hot and it took little moisture to slide along his body. I felt the warning building in my balls and reached down to carry myself over the edge, but Jim had other ideas. He pushed me over and onto my back, locked his knees around my legs, and held me down with his weight while he sucked one of my nipples. I gritted my teeth against the pleasure. "Goddammit, let me come!" Jim pulled back and smiled. His chest heaved, yet still his voice was easy, his pose relaxed. There was no sign of him relinquishing one iota of control. "Sure Lenny, all you had to do was ask." Jim reached for the lube and rolled me on my side, top leg pushed forward, opening me to his whims. Oh shit, Len, you had to go for something different, didn't you? I did my best to relax; it just didn't work that way--like trying not to be ticklish. Whoever figures out that one deserves a Nobel. I heard Jim spreading the lube, warming it with his hands. I heard the smack of something slick and sticky coming from somewhere behind my line of sight, and a wave of anxiety knotted in my gut. My sphincter tensed and spasmed even further. Relax, Lenny. Relax, relax, relax. Just relax, just relax. The bed moved as Jim switched positions, adjusted my legs and worked his way in between them. The word 'no' hovered somewhere in my throat, but I had been too close for too long; I needed release. I wanted his touch. I'd take anything he would give me for the sake of that orgasm. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, preparing for the jolt of pain. But what came after was not the iron spear of a sex, but the warm, wet roughness of a tongue. "Jesus--" I tried to worm away in protest. That was disgusting, but oh, lord in heaven, it felt good! Jim had the mechanical advantage and easily held me in place. I felt Jim's lubed penis sliding over and against my bottom leg, but I couldn't be bothered with that. All that mattered was that tongue that never stopped moving over, around and within the sweet, sensitive places of my ass. I grabbed my dick as my balls threatened to explode there and then on the bed. "Oh--Jim!" I was too far gone to do anything else; I'd never been so hard, and when I came, the first spurt shot up to and over my head. Jim had his face pressed deep into my ass and his dick wedged between my leg and his hand. Somewhere through the haze, I realized he had come too. But he just lay there, taking in great lungfuls of breath from around my ass and gently stroking my thighs. When I could move, I shifted a little and reached for the towel. We'd made one hell of a mess. Jim climbed over to lie face to face with me. He moved in for a kiss. The unmistakable smell filled my nose. "Oh, geez, go wash your face and hands." "Don't like to smell yourself?" Jim teased as he nuzzled around me. Ugh. "Just go, okay?" I twisted my neck away. "Alright, alright." Jim chuckled and headed off back to the bathroom. By the time that Jim got back, I was almost asleep. The feel of a warm hand on my dick woke me back up. "Hey careful; that's still sensitive." "Sorry," Jim said, and tested his hand against the length of my inner thigh. "Now can I have a kiss?" Jim smelt of soap and sunshine and hotel issue mouthwash; only the bed--and me, I supposed--still stank of our little diversion. I kissed him back with pleasure. Feeling the movement against my leg and up my thigh, I reached down and took Jim's cock in my hand. He was already rock-hard and more than ready. It must be nice to be twenty-one. I lubricated my hand and found a pattern, up and down, up and down, being careful to keep my fingers playing along the underside--the best part. Jim slipped down my body, taking my hand with him. He chewed at my nipples, licking and nibbling, all the way. When the shudder shook my body, he grabbed my shoulders in his hands and held me until it passed. It had been too long since I had felt this good, this cared for, even if only for a single evening. My thighs parted as Jim's face dropped down onto my groin. Somewhere in all this, my hand had lost his dick. He was gentle and patient, very patient, something else I never would have expected. The soft pull of his mouth and the rough scrape of his tongue worked together, eventually coaxing me into a respectable erection. I think he fondled himself a little, but he made no demands of me. I watched him work, relaxed and willing, bobbing up and down on my body. I reached down to stroke his hair, his scalp. It was still damp--soft and fine as it filtered through my fingers. I felt my breathing break into the classic rhythm of sex, and I rocked my hips to fuck his face. He grabbed my ass and sucked me all the way back in his throat. "Jim--" I couldn't manage anything else. My gut needed to come again, but my balls weren't cooperating. I pressed his head more firmly over me. He pulled on me twice, hard and I choked, but I couldn't get back to that edge. Jim pulled away, and I groaned in frustration. "Hang on," Jim replied as he reached again for the lube. "Uh--" Jim spread the lube over both his hands. He lay himself out on his side, bringing us face to face, and grasped both our dicks in his palms. "Hang on, Doc, we're going for a ride." As he stroked our cocks together, a rumbling noise rose from his throat. It grew louder and more ragged, and his whole body trembled, yet still he waited for me. I threw my arms around his neck and held on tight, feeling the wound-tight tension within his body. "Come for me. Come for me," he chanted into my ear. "I--can't--get--close enough," I choked back, thrusting myself into his hands. He held us in his left hand, but took away his right. Before I knew what was happening, he rammed a finger up my ass and pressed it solidly against my gland. I came so hard, my toes curled in spasm. His hand ceased its movements, and he went slack in my arms. When I opened my eyes again, he was propped up one elbow, watching me with a smile. He wiped his hand on the towel. I thought about making him go wash, but I couldn't be bothered with details like that right then. Afterwards we lay together, not feeling, not thinking, just content to be warm and satisfied and not alone. Jim fondled my hands absently between the fingers, until he came to the wedding band. "So where is--she?" "With our daughter, in the house we had." "What happened?" "She said I worked too much, was never there. But hell, it was all for them." "It's hard growing up not knowing your father," Jim said. "I'm not sure it's an even trade. And she couldn't have liked being alone." I had a sudden vision of Joey in college, walking halfway across the campus just to meet me for lunch. We had been inseparable. No, she had never liked it at all. We would have married right away, except for her parents' insistence that she get her degree first. "No, she never did." I twisted the ring around on my finger. It didn't fit as snugly as it used to, and I wondered how much weight I had lost. Some people eat more when depressed; I don't. "Neither did my mother," said Jim. "It was bad enough with Dad gone but she was tough. When he died, it tore her apart. She was content enough knowing that he was out there in space, happy--but to know that he was gone forever--" Jim shook his head. "I worry about my daughter growing up and never knowing me." The words spilled out by themselves. I don't know where they came from. It was the one thought I was desperately keeping from myself. Jim's arms wrapped tighter around me, arresting the knots in my shoulders before they could reform. His hands moved in rhythm--an almost hypnotic effect. Then his voice joined in softly. "It doesn't have to be like that, you know. I only saw my father a couple times a year, but he called all the time. He sent holos, vids; he was always in the news. Everyone else only saw clips, but he was my dad and I was prouder than anything to be his son. I just missed him very much." I hugged him once, hard. There were no words to tell him how much that meant, but I felt something big brewing deep inside my chest. Oh, no, I would not do that here. I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "So, what about you?" I cleared my throat again, and this time my voice was pretty close to normal. "I can't imagine that you have to take a hotel room for one--unless you want to." Jim grinned. "Bullseye. I came down with my buddy, Gary. To cheer him up. I guess it worked. Last I saw him he was receiving all the cheer one man can stand from a table full of college girls." "Won't he be coming back here?" I eyed the door. "Nope. I never got around to telling him where we were staying." "You just left him?" Jim snorted. "It's terrible, isn't it? Left alone and abandoned in a mass of lonely, fun-loving women? Trust me, Gary's okay. In fact, he owes me big for this." "So you picked up the first guy that walked in to the bathroom. Sweet." "Not hardly. I'd been watching you. I saw where you were going--and ambushed you when I got you alone." Jim winked. "Liar." "Don't be so sure," said Jim, and kissed me again. "So, are you really in Starfleet?" I asked, after he finally let me go. "Yep. Fifth year cadet. Why? You think I just run around in the uniform to pick up beautiful men?" Jim winked again and peppered my ear with little kisses. "You never know." It was getting hard to think. "Why space? After what you saw your parents go through?" "I don't suppose I had much of a choice. It's in my blood. Even growing up without him, we're exactly alike. We were really close-- closer than most of my friends were to their live-in fathers. It's not about physical distance." You sure got that right kid. Having family close sure as hell don't mean you're going to be close to them. "So, are you really a doctor?" Times three. I was on my third residency. "Uh, yeah, still a resident, but fully licensed. Why?" Jim shrugged and twirled his fingers in the few hairs my chest. "Just doesn't seem like you. Germs and all." "What do you know about me? Nothing!" I hadn't meant it to sound like that. I drew back and pulled away on the bed. He did have a point about the germs, though. I should wash. Jim took his hands back. "I know. I thought I was trying to change that." I rolled to a sit. "Sorry, I shouldn'tve snapped. I didn't have much of a choice either--sort of a family tradition." "You like it?" "Yeah. You might be right about the 'in the blood' thing. It seems like what I was meant to do. And I'm good." "You're telling me." He rubbed my thigh--and higher too. I chuckled. "Keep that up and you'll be late for roll call. "I'm gonna go wash up." I grabbed my bag and went back into the shower, leaving the door ajar this time. If there was an "I told you so," coming about the germs crack, I didn't hear it. I did hear something else instead. "Will you stay the night?" "What?" I turned the water off. Then I heard the gentle beeping from my bag. My comm unit. "I've got the room until noon. I'd like it if you'd stay the night." I punched a button and a vidmessage began to play. Shirley, my stepmother. The news wasn't good. "Shit!" "Relax. Just for fun--no ties. But it's your call, of course." I scrambled into my clothes and came back out with my comm still open. "No, that's not it, I just got a message--a family emergency. I have to go." Jim eyed my wedding band. "I see." "No, not that. I really am separated; this is different. But I do have to go." "Okay, okay." Jim got up, naked, and took me by the shoulders. "Can I at least walk you to the station?" "No. I've got to run." I picked up my bag. "Can I call you?" Jim asked as I opened the door. "Sure, why not?" The door clicked closed behind me. Too late I realized that I hadn't offered him either my full name or my comm code. ~end part 2/7 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: