Title: Fuel Enough For Eight

Author: Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten

Website: http://www.cosmicduckling.com

Series: Star Trek TOS

Pairing: Chapel/Rand

Rating: NC-17, PWP

Disclaimer: Blame Maoric!!! :-D~

Written for the Slash Advent Calendar of 2003

Summary: How many orgasms can two women have in one night?

Extremely silly Chanukah femmeslash from the advent calendar ;-) Hey, everyone! Go see the cute li'l chibi illustration Mina made for this story:
http://cosmicduckling.com/chanukah-chapel-femmeslash.html


FUEL ENOUGH FOR EIGHT
By Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten

The first one was in the bathroom before they even left for the Christmas party. The edge of the countertop dug into Christine's back sharply as she bucked against it into Janice's bosom. Their fingers worked frantically at each other's clits, eyes closed, heads thrown back. Quickly, finish, or be late... people expecting them...

The second one was slow and surreptitious, under the tablecloth at the party. They were sitting down playing a hand of cards with Sulu and Chekov, and playing a hand full of pussy at the same time. Good thing the tables were all draped with a rich dark green velvet in honor of the season. Janice gasped and giggled when she was through, but after all--they *were* playing cards.

The third one was just inside the doorway of Christine's cabin, begun barely a minute after they got back. There had been mistletoe at the party, of course, and kissing underneath it for enough time to draw even Spock's attention made it imperative that they leave at once and finish the job somewhere decently private. The floor wasn't the most comfortable place to be fingered, but they were both a little tipsy from all that eggnog.

The fourth one was more elegant, and finally took them into the bed and onto the pink satin sheets Janice had smuggled in from her hiatus on Earth. Bare skin slid against the cool slickness as tongues lapped at fragrant skin, flickering in tandem. They rode each other's diligent faces into the pleasures of the night.

The fifth one was adventurous. Christine had discovered and purchased an item known in its discreet catalogue as the Au-rotic Aubergine. Not speaking French, it was only after unwrapping the parcel that she realized the new toy was a vibrating plastic eggplant, slick and tapered, and life-sized. They tried it out anyway, and luckily found that mousakka goes very well with sweet melted butter.

The sixth one was a first for them. They rested after the experience with the toy, and discussed the possibilities it had opened up for them. Christine reclined for a long moment on the bed, comparing her fist to the size of the eggplant. Then, confident, and with her blood stirring from Janice's urging, she eased her lubed-up hand entirely inside the other woman. It was new, and therefore liberating. Janice giggled again.

The seventh one happened in turns. Janice tongue-bathed her precious lover, whose head lolled around the pillow with breathless delight. That tongue eventually slipped between her labia and up inside her, screwing her slowly. Janice's lip and nose worked against her clit at the same time. After her orgasm, Christine got up and did everything back in reciprocation.

The eighth one was in the wee hours of dawn, after a period of sleep so brief and delicate it could only be called a lovers' nap. They awoke in each others' arms, and were lazily tickling at each other's clits before they were lucid enough to speak. It was tempting to fall back asleep against each other's soft, cushioned bodies after their climax, but they both knew they needed to get up soon. They held each other as long as they could.

That morning, Captain Kirk was strutting 'round the bridge with a glow so obvious that even Scotty could tell something amusing had gone on in his quarters after the party. Janice brought him his reports to sign, and his hands worked over them with a cocky flourish. He couldn't help but tease his yeoman, then, when she couldn't restrain the huge, unladylike yawn that issued from her lips. "Burning the midnight oil, Yeoman?" She just blinked at him, too sleepy to worry about dignity. "Don't worry, Rand, I was, too." He winked at her before returning to his work.

*Yeah, but did you have fuel enough for eight?* she smirked to herself, and silently wished Christine a very happy Chanukah.



END