Author: Liz Ellington z THE PARK AT TWILIGHTSome parks were made for fucking. Little groves of trees, little clumps of bushes, an old weathered fountain with such an inviting little niche at the side. An overendowed cherub leaned over the fountain, his lovely fat cock sputtering with the variable water pressure so that it seemed, if you only glanced at him, that he was endlessly coming. First Officer Spock, of the Federation Starship Enterprise, stood at the entrance to the park, out of uniform and definitely out of bounds. He observed men going in pairs into that enticing space behind the fountain, coming out with smiles on their faces. He saw the same man go in with several others at different times. He watched until the third time he was accosted himself, and then he went across the street, the eternal voyeur. He wanted to go behind the fountain and come out with that same surprised smile as the others. Vulcan controls were effective for abstinence. They didn't serve one well for moderation. As he turned away, another figure wandered down the street, as out of uniform as he and probably just as noticeable. Faded plaid shirt, jeans, hiking boots, ball cap. Broad shoulders, muscular legs, soft ass. His captain easily dismissed the first man to approach him, and turned his back on the second. Another came down the street, pretty in tight leather. Spock was half way across the street before he could have changed his mind, even if his body would have let him. Jim turned at the approaching footsteps and stopped dead when he took in the sight of his first officer all in black from his regulation boots to his decidedly non-regulation knit cap, with tight black trous and turtleneck in between. Spock took his elbow and pushed him between the rusty iron gates and down the flagged path to the fountain. Muffled sounds, stifled moans, little gasps sounded above the erratic spurting of the water. "Here, come in here," Jim said, dragging him away from the enticing, but unavailable, fountain. In a dense thicket of bushes stood the ruins of a miniature temple, its roof fallen in, the portico supported only by two cracked columns. "Here . . . " Jim breathed and kissed him, hot and wild as a faun. He kissed Jim's mouth and felt the raw energy rise up in them both. Behind them, in the shadows of the ruined temple, came a polite cough. He ignored it, and when Jim hesitated and glanced over his shoulder, he put his hands around Jim's ass and squeezed, and pushed himself against the hardness in front, and Jim's eyes closed and his head fell back and his body said yes to anything Spock wanted. He turned Jim to face the ruins and pulled the flannel shirt out of the jeans. "Open it," he commanded, and Jim gave him an eyebrow and began to unbutton the shirt. Spock reached around him from behind and roughly pulled apart the waistband. Jim wore nothing underneath. Spock pushed the jeans down and opened his own fly. His cock pushed out, pressing into the heat of Jim's ass. He held Jim's hips and pressed his cock against the bare bottom, writhing against the soft skin. "Masturbate!" he ordered raggedly, and Jim began to pull at himself with both hands over and over until he was struggling in Spock's grasp. Spock reached inside his shirt and pinched the nearest nipple hard, and Jim convulsed against him. He caught the slippery come in his hand, and coated himself and impaled his captain, and Jim moaned and stood very still. Everything seemed to be holding its breath as Spock began to move in him. At first he thrust jerkily, concentrating on the exquisite sensation as the head of his cock bumped against the constricting ring of muscle. Then he needed more, everywhere. He pushed deeper, harder, longer. Jim sobbed and tried to pull away, gasping, "Too much! It's too much . . . " and Spock held him helpless by the hips and plunged into him implacably. The fire consumed them both when it came and Spock surrendered to it and let himself become the flame. When it faded he was astonished to find himself still standing, Jim's body still clutched tightly to his own from shoulders to thigh. He sighed softly and released his lover, and Jim turned to him swiftly and pressed their mouths together. In the ruins there was only a shocked silence. They helped each other back into their clothing and pushed through the bushes to the path. Twilight was falling; most of the couples had moved on. Another sort would inhabit the dark, more feral, more desperate, but they would be long away by then. At the entrance, Spock turned and held out his hand, palm open. "Pay up," he said, and his captain gave him a disgusted look and handed over a fifty-cred coin. "Remind me never to bet a Vulcan," he said, and Spock tilted an eyebrow and walked away, his narrow ass an invitation and a promise. END Challenge: |