[NC17] 1/1
Private Communication; Triple-Encrypt.
Eyes Only: Commander Spock, cha'Sarek; Acting Captain, USS Enterprise, Utopia Planitia Shipyards, Mars
Retinal Scan Required to Initiate Playback

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There. That's *that* out of the way.

"Dear Spock..." That's how these things are supposed to start, you know. But it sounds so cold, so clinical -- and none of what I feel when I think about you is either of those, t'hy'la.

God, I've missed you these last three weeks, since they let me wake up from the regen. Seems like I've been gone a lot longer than that, though I know that I was only offline for about ten days. I'm hoping to be released next week, if all goes as well as it has been. I'll be on light duty for a while yet, but with our lady still in dry dock, that shouldn't be too difficult. Hell, I'm tempted to sign out right now, Against Medical Advice, shanghai you, and take off for the fleshpots of Argeelius or something.

Don't look so worried. I won't. Bones'd have my guts for garters if I even tried -- and I'm a lot more scared of him, than I am of these people. But I can dream, can't I? It's better than lying here counting the cracks in the ceiling, for the 500th time.

Mmmm.... just *thinking* about you, lately, gets me hard in no time. I'm *hungry*, Spock -- and not for food, either. I want to feel you in my arms again, so warm, so strong. I want to run my fingers through your hair and mess it all up, just so I can straighten it out again. I want to bury my face in the crook of your neck, and fill myself up with the scent and the taste of you, till I'm drunk as a lord from the pure pleasure of your touch... And then I want to do it all over again, con gusto.

I want to feel you shiver, as I lick at your ears, and nibble on their tips. You always taste so good to me, Spock. I want to kiss you until we both pass out, just so I can wake you up and kiss you some more. I can't remember the last time I wanted so badly, and couldn't have. You've spoiled me rotten, t'hy'la. I can't wait to get out of this place and get back where I belong -- in your arms, in our bed.

I had the most incredible dream last night. I dreamed that we made love, right there on the bridge. Only the running lights, and the stars, to keep us company. Everything else was shut down, and we had the place to ourselves. Yeah, I know -- not very likely, is it, even in drydock. But in dreams, there are no rules. And oh, my god, it was *so good*!

I sat in my chair and beckoned, and you came to me and knelt in front of me. We kissed. Just little kisses, at first; relearning the taste and the feel of one another, breathing each other's breath, feeling our heartbeats speed up, together. Ahh, but we got inspired, love. Pretty soon you were draped across my lap and wrapped around my shoulders -- and you felt so warm... It was heaven. I could feel how hard you were, as we rubbed against each other. I almost came in my pants. I pulled you up between my legs and unsnapped your trousers, so I could work my hands down the back of them and caress those warm furred cheeks of yours. And ohhh, so warm, so soft they were. The scent of you filled my lungs, all copper and musk -- and the hotter I made you, the stronger it grew. That scent intoxicates me, Spock -- it always has. It makes me even hotter, to smell you, and know that I'm the cause... Just sitting here thinking about it is making me hard again; I have to reach down and adjust myself. Mmm... You do *good* things to me...

You reached down between us, then, and undid my pants; helped me slide them down, so you could reach my cock. And then you took me into that hot, hot mouth, and sucked and licked at me, till I thought I would pass out, from the pleasure of it. That thing that you do, with just the tip of your tongue; it's like a red-hot wire to the centre of my brain. I can't stand it -- and then when you stop, I can't stand that, either...

And then you lifted me up, and turned me around; both of us had our pants around our ankles, and neither of us cared. And you bent me forward over that big command chair and stepped between my legs. Your cock slid between my cheeks -- so hot! And you started to rub. Back and forth, up and down, until you were all the way erect and slicked, sliding across my skin, all silk and steel -- and *hot*, the way you always are. And then you put just the tip of yourself against my ass, all hot, and slick and wet, and I felt you start to slide inside me, and I pushed back... And oh, god, you pushed forward, and you filled me right up, right there on the bridge, in my chair... And it was *good*, Spock. It was *hot*. I was full, and oh, god, I was content. I was *home*. And we made love, right there, until neither of us could get it up any more. And *that* was when you turned, and kissed me, and purred against my ear, "Welcome home, Jim..."

I can't wait, Spock. I have one more week left here, and it's going to seem about a thousand years long. But you wait -- once I get back, I'm going to drag you off to our cabin and fuck you cross-eyed, my calm Vulcan mate. I want to see the sweat, shining on your face, and smell your heat, listen to your heart racing against my side. I want to watch your face, as I make you come; I want to shatter that calm cool control of yours into a million little pieces.

God. A whole damned week, yet. It's going to be a long one. Keep it hard and think of me, my love. And when I get home, we'll go to bed for a week, and do nothing but fuck like weasels in heat.

I burn for thee, t'hy'la. Keep the Fire bright; I'll be home as soon as I can.

All my love...