PREFACE AND DISCLAIMER: If you're like me, and I'm sure you are, you really enjoy a good P/C smut story! The best ones are very descriptive, glowingly recounting a passionate encounter between two people who are very skilled, every moment breathtaking in its perfection. Of course, we are all aware that not *every* sexual experience is that way... Oh -- and the story you are about to read is true. The names have been borrowed from Paramount/Viacom to protect the guilty. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ WAIT A MINUTE... DAMMIT or AND THEY BEGIN AGAIN by TrexPhile September 1997 The light, perfunctory kiss goodnight had become something more, leading both of them towards something they both desired. They stand beside the bed, locked in a passionate embrace, kisses long and deep. The sparks are growing into a steady, pulsing flame inside them both. He moves his hand around to her breast; she moans into his mouth as he strokes her nipple with the palm of his hand. Locking her arms around his neck, she pulls him steadily forward and she falls backward onto the bed, taking him with her. "Ow!" A loud crack of uncushioned skull hitting headboard, the sound almost as loud as his cry of pain. "Oh Jean-Luc! I'm sorry!" She briskly rubs the top of his head as he winces. He breathes, "It's all right, Beverly. Scoot down a bit." They do so and begin again. More kisses, traveling over face and neck, each tasting the other. He pushes up her light gown to expose her bare breasts and pushes himself down her body to take a waiting nipple into his mouth. She sighs and moans, scratching along the soft hair on the back of his head with her nails. As he continues his attentions, switching to the other breast, she brings her hand up distractedly to the top of his head. "Mmmmfffff!!!" he utters, mouth full, then raises his head to look into her puzzled eyes. "Uh, that spot's a bit tender, Beverly." "Oh, sorry -- I forgot." She raises up a bit to investigate the spot further. "Oooh. That's a nasty bump. Maybe I should fix that real quick." She pushes against his shoulders with both hands, preparing to rise. He pushes her back down. "Later, my dear. Just try to stay away from that area for right now." She smiles her agreement and they begin again. As he kisses his way down her torso, she can feel him hard against her leg. That touch and the deliberate movement of his tongue and lips cause her to shiver with anticipation. He removes her panties swiftly and continues his journey, scooting farther to the end of the bed in order to be in perfect position. She hears a loud thump and raises her head to see past her feet. She sees his face frowning at her from off the edge of the bed. "You're going to have to either move up or down, Beverly." She obliges by scooting down until her butt is at the edge. "Better?" she smiles. He answers by burying his face between her legs and she gasps, bending her legs and planting her feet onto his bent back. With skill and experience, he brings her steadily to the brink of ecstasy. She tightens her leg muscles and arches closer to him. A soft series of taps at the door cuts through the breathing and light moans. They both freeze for a second, then quickly extricate themselves from each other. Beverly sits up quickly and immediately slips from her precarious perch onto the floor. "Shit!" she wants to shout but manages a loud whisper instead. Rubbing her tailbone, she stands and straightens her gown, giving Jean-Luc an exasperated glance as she heads for the locked bedroom door. With the press of a button, the door opens, revealing a tiny sleep-tousled and tear-stained little boy. "Jack," she says as she squats to take him into her arms. "What is it?" He snuggles into her arms. "I had a yucchy dream." "Oh baby," she coos, rising as she holds him tightly. "What was it?" He mumbles sleepily into her neck. "It was a scary song. I was upside down too." "Well, it'll be alright." She turns slightly to look at Jean-Luc who has lain back down on the bed. Murmuring softly, she carries Jack out and to his room. After a full fifteen minutes, Beverly returns. She crosses to Jean-Luc who lies on his back, eyes shut. "Jean-Luc," she whispers. A soft snore answers her. "Jean-Luc!" she repeats louder, emphatically. She runs a fingernail down his flat stomach to the drawstring of his pajama bottom. He stirs and eases his eyes open. "Don't you dare go to sleep on me, Captain!" she intones and proceeds to stroke him through the soft fabric of the loose pants. He smiles, then remembers the reason for the interruption. "How's Jack?" he says with a small frown. "He's fine -- just a bad dream. He's asleep." She continues to manipulate him expertly through his pajamas. "Well, let's hope he stays asleep," Jean-Luc replies. He reaches for her and they begin again. Before too long they are once more as aroused as before. Dreading another interruption, Jean-Luc decides to cut to the chase. As Beverly lies on her back, he kneels over her and begins fumbling with one hand at the waistband of his pajamas. She pulls her nightgown over her head then reaches to help him off with his clothing. She pulls on one end of the drawstring cord. "Jean-Luc -- it's knotted." Jean-Luc, balanced precariously on one hand, looks down at his waist. Sure enough, the cord is knotted tightly. He raises up, still on his knees and begins tugging and picking at the knot that stubbornly refuses to loosen its grasp. "Merde," he mutters as Beverly sighs beneath him. He gives her a questioning look and she sits up and tries her hand at releasing her husband from his predicament. Even with her longer nails, she is unable to make any progress. She shifts her position and in desperation and frustration, bites at the knot, succeeding only in making it wet and even more impossible to loosen. "I always hated these pajamas," she mutters and throws Jean-Luc a "Now what?" look. Then with no warning, she grabs the waistband of the uncooperative trousers at the sides and tugs firmly downward. The pants move down only far enough to elicit a yelp from her trapped spouse. "That's not going to work, Beverly!" She narrows her eyes at him, then jumps off the bed and disappears into the adjoining bathroom. She emerges a few seconds later with her medkit. Pulling out a laser scalpel, she activates it and clambers back onto the bed. "Now hold still," she intones, bringing the scalpel level with Jean-Luc's groin. "Wait a minute, Beverly!" he begins but she shushes him. "I'm a surgeon -- I'm very accurate with this thing." Tongue protruding slightly from between her lips in concentration, she starts to slice through the cord. Jean-Luc closes his eyes and holds his breath, praying with all his might that no sudden sound like a commlink chirp or knock at the door will cause either of them to startle. Beverly lets out a triumphant cry as the cord is severed and Jean-Luc opens his eyes, very relieved as the pajama bottoms slide down. He sits back and kicks them off as Beverly tosses the scalpel to the floor. She grins at him and grabs him, pushing him onto his back and they begin again. Despite this last complication, Jean-Luc is still quite ready to continue. Beverly kisses him deeply as she rubs intimately against him; he tangles his fingers in her hair as both begin to once more move towards the goal they've striven for all evening. She sits back, balancing on her strong thighs and maneuvers until he is poised at her entrance. With a controlled movement back and down, she pushes herself onto him, slowly sliding him all the way inside. He grabs her hips and watches as she, with eyes closed, begins a slow erotic dance. The rhythm starts to build and increase in speed and both are moving toward a wonderful state of delight. Jean-Luc takes her by the waist and tilts her over, shifting so that he is above her. Urgently he continues the rhythm until ... "Wait a minute, Jean-Luc." He looks at her incredulously. "I'm so sorry but I really need to pee." "What?!? Now?!?" She looks at him, chagrined. "I'm sorry but I really need to." "Why didn't you go before?" "I didn't *have* to before!" He sighs and rolls off of her. She leaps up and scurries to the bathroom. "I won't be two seconds!" she calls out. He just shakes his head and stares at the ceiling. In two seconds -- plus an additional seventy-eight, she slithers into the bed and they begin again. With an urgency that neither has experienced in a long time, he enters her again and they both work fervently toward the goal that appears to be more and more elusive with each attempt. Finesse and technique cast aside, they concentrate solely on the rising sensations within. Jean-Luc strokes away on top of Beverly, legs taut. "Ah! Oh God!!" Beverly is taken aback by her husband's uncharacteristically vocal -- and premature -- cry of ecstasy, a bit frustrated that after all the attempts, it was over too soon. Then she realizes that the grimace on his face is one of pain, not pleasure. He collapses on top of her and clutches at his right calf. Immediately she recognizes the symptoms of a leg cramp and wriggles out from under him as he rolls over onto his side. She sits up and massages his spasming calf muscles, making soft reassuring noises. She looks at him anxiously as he sucks air sharply through his teeth. As the muscle relaxes, she attempts a smile. "Better?" He nods, lips a tight line. "You know, Beverly -- maybe we should just give up and go to sleep." "No way, Jean-Luc Picard. This has now become a vendetta." She climbs on top of him, her expression fierce and they begin again. Building, sweat breaking out with determined effort, focused entirely on feeling, straining for the summit, time stands still as they reach, reach and cry out together, relief washing over them in pulsing crashing waves. She shudders as she feels him pulsing inside her, her arms suddenly weak as she tries to hold herself up over him. Hair brushing his face, she smiles as he opens his eyes. He smiles back and pulls her down to kiss her. She relaxes into his embrace, her head against his cheek. They stay like this for a long moment, their breathing slowing to normal. "I love you, Jean-Luc." He responds with a strange spitting noise. She raises up and looks at him curiously. "Sorry -- your hair was in my mouth." "Oh. Sorry." "I love you too, Beverly." She smiles, kisses him lightly and raises up on her arms to disengage their still joined bodies. With a graceful hop, she is off the bed and walking quickly and a bit straddle-legged toward the bathroom. After cleaning herself off, she comes out with a fresh towel intended for Jean- Luc. He lies on his side, close to the bed's edge -- asleep. She sighs and crawls into bed, pulling up the covers. As she moves into position beside him, her knee hits a very cold, very wet spot on the sheet -- right where she intends to lie down. "Well, hell," she says out loud and considers her options -- staying far over on her side of the bed or covering the spot with an uncomfortable scratchy towel so that she can hold Jean-Luc as he sleeps. She sighs and spreads out the towel. Lying down, she spoons up behind her love, wrapping her arm over and around his chest. "Computer, extinguish lights." The room is cloaked in darkness and she begins to drift off to sleep, all the frustrations and obstacles and interruptions forgotten, feeling nothing but an overwhelming contentment and love.