![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sharpestscalpelTitle: What An Ordinary Evening Can Reveal
Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)
Pairing: Sarek/Amanda
Rating: R (I say cock, can I say cock and have it be R?)
Summary: Amanda waits at home for Sarek's return from work
Word count: ~2,000
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Feedback: Yes!
Note: This is for the striptease/exposure square of my kink bingo card. And yet there is more schmoop than kink, I think. Ah well, Sarek and Amanda are hot and sweet. One more to go for a bingo!
"Wife?" Sarek's voice traveled down the hallway ahead of his footsteps, to the bedroom where Amanda had smiled to herself as she watched the old-fashioned clock march with Vulcan precision to what would have been 5:47pm on the dot if they had been on Earth. She hadn't noticed it at first, too caught up in disguising her own difficulty adjusting to life on a planet so different from her home; it had taken six months to realize that not only did Sarek leave the house at the same time each morning, but he returned in the evening with a scant three minutes in variance. It made her laugh, and he had often caught her mouth in the remnants of a lingering smile when he kissed her, always chaste kisses in greeting that often turned salacious because kissing Sarek was one of her favorite hobbies.
"In the bedroom, Sarek." It wasn't actually necessary to inform him. There were only so many places she could be in the efficient little house that was, with Amanda's careful choices, becoming an apt illustration of just how well Vulcans and humans could live together. But Amanda shifted against the pillows and waited for him to appear in the doorway.
There were benefits to having such a predictable man as her husband. Sarek's shoulders, broad and solid, nearly filled the width of the doorway, especially padded as they were in the traditional Vulcan robes he wore to the embassy offices. She had similar things in her wardrobe but the rich woven fabrics were too much for her in the heat of the day. Sarek never seemed to sweat though.
"Are you well?" Sarek stepped into the room but stopped when he saw her, posed as she was on their bed. His eyebrows crept higher, nearly an expression of bewilderment. Amanda couldn't blame him.
The filmy, transparent fabric of the nightgown she wore was a stark contrast to the heavy brocade that draped past Sarek's knees and the layers she knew he wore underneath. Her hair was unbound, a messy tumble around her shoulders and down over the slope of her breasts. She had learned the elaborate Vulcan hair styles from his mother and his sisters, only grumbling to Sarek about the way Vulcans could not do anything simple when the stern women had all departed. But when it was just the two of them, away from all outside observation, Sarek brushed her hair for her and buried his fingers in the curls of it, wrapped it around his fist as they claimed each other.
His eyes were heating up; Amanda tilted her head back and shifted again under the weight of his gaze. "I'm quite well, husband." She trailed a single finger down her throat and along the plunging neckline of her negligee. "And you? How was your day?"
It was satisfying to see him swallow before he opened his mouth to speak. Sarek was, above all things, in control of himself. When she could, when he allowed it, strain that control, it made her feel wanton and provacative in ways the human lovers in her past had never managed.
"It was adequate." Sarek's voice was one of Amanda's favorite things: dulcet and deep and slightly raspy when aroused. "However, I find your company preferable to that of my assistants."
What woman, human or Vulcan, wouldn't melt when faced with that, knowing it was completely honest? There was nothing to motivate resistance on Amanda's part. Instead, she patted the bed beside her. "I'm certainly glad to hear that I rate higher than an office full of junior diplomats." She couldn't stop the grin from pulling at her mouth.
Sarek obeyed her gesture - but his steps faltered before he reached the bed. "Your garment appears quite delicate, wife. It would be unfortunate to damage it."
Amanda Grayson had been Mandy to her parents when she was a baby. She had been baby and honey to various relatives and, in college, to various boyfriends. She had been lover and even, for one unfortunate week, kissielips to various men she had dated more seriously. If anyone had asked, Amanda would have told them that she prefered her proper name. Until Sarek - he had called her my intended even before she had agreed to marry him. And after the ceremonies and the publicity and the awkward negotiations with the embassy and Star Fleet both, he had called her wife.
If anyone had asked, Amanda would have told them it was none of their business. But she had clenched tight around him, arms and legs and cunt, when he had first whispered it on their wedding night and she had not gotten tired of it yet.
"You'll just have to be careful with it then, won't you?" She looked up at him through her lashes and waited for him to approach again. Her smile fell a little, though, when he failed to join her on the bed. "Sarek?"
She knew him well enough - that twitch of his lips was as near to a smile as he would allow himself. And so Amanda caught her breath, pleased anticipation renewed, when his hands went to the fastenings of his robes. He was pleased, and a pleased Sarek was often an indulgently playful Sarek.
"Logic dictates such an alluring garment remain for greatest effect. I shall thus discard my own garments." Sarek unlaced the hidden ties that held the outer robe closed.
Oh. Oh. "I do love a logical man." Amanda bent her knees, put her feet flat against the bed surface. It was enough to send the frothy lace of her gown to tumble toward her thighs. He liked her legs and she liked the way his eyes focused on them. She also liked the slow and deliberate way he was easing the formal robes off his shoulders, revealing the finer material of his inner robes.
There was something intimate about it, even though he was still fully clothed. Vulcans were, if nothing else, Amanda had observed it before and had it confirmed during her time on Vulcan, so rigid in their public presentation that any deviation from it in private felt almost painfully naked. When Sarek continued, unfastening the belt of his inner robe, Amanda caught her breath.
"Do you approve of this, wife?" A warmth rose from between her thighs up through her chest at the feel of him in her mind, the sight of him as he advanced to the foot of the bed, the sound of him as he teased her gently. The inner robe joined the outer robe, folded and discarded across the arm of the chair she liked to use for putting on her shoes.
His neatness, even as he performed a very reserved striptease for her pleasure, made her heart race even though he was still fully dressed by human standards. Amanda often laughed at herself, at the things that tied her up in knots with how much she loved this man, how fiercely glad she was to be sharing his life. "Oh, I certainly approve, husband." She moved, could no longer just recline and watch, crawled closer to sit with her legs crossed, spaghetti strap falling down one arm. He reached for it but withdrew before he touched her and Amanda almost moaned.
Sarek sat in the same chair to remove his boots and socks. Amanda made an impatient noise. He had elegant feet, high arches and long toes - she admired them until he stood, the agile fingers she wanted to put to certain specific uses moving from button to button on his long-sleeved shirt.
The cloth parted over his chest and she sighed, pleased. Sarek's chest was broad, the smooth skin dusted with dark hair curling and narrowing into a trail that disappeared behind the waist of his pants. The olive hue of his nipples tempted her - Amanda delighted in nipping at the nubs until Sarek physically restrained her from tormenting him. He had very sensitive nipples.
She watched with avid interest as he shrugged out of the shirt, the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching and stretching as he moved. When he turned to fold the shirt and place it in the laundry bin, the shifting interplay of musculature in his back increased her desire to touch, to be the cause of that ripple and flex as he thrust into her.
"Hurry up, Sarek." Amanda's own voice was throaty and rich. She had planned to seduce him with the lingerie she had been saving for a special occasion, no real occasion at all but her own mood as the day had progressed, but his methodical undressing was undoing her instead.
He would never allow anyone else to see it but the mischievous light in Sarek's eyes was Amanda's answer. Her husband's excitement was evident when he turned back to her, bare-chested, still wearing his light trousers though they now strained with the evidence of his own enjoyment. "It would be illogical to rush through that which I savor, wife." He had told her before - Vulcan rationale dictated that sexual shame between mates was illogical and so he spoke to her with a frankness that often had her blushing - that he found her desire for him fascinating, enthralling, delicious.
Amanda moaned her protest but fell back into an inviting sprawl. "I've got other things for you to savor." She cupped a breast, caught at her own nipple through the material that had remained on her body for far longer than she had expected.
A green flush blossomed at the base of Sarek's neck and rose up to bloom on his cheeks and eartips. "I am most aware." He watched, eyes hot and dark, as the hand at her breast slid down toward the hem of her nightie. His own hands were stilled, fingers caught in the waistband of his pants. That wasn't what she wanted. It was a relief when he moved again, worked the button and zipper and shucked the pants down over his long legs, efficient even though he still was not hurried.
Sarek had worn the traditional, drawstring Vulcan pants under his robes when he had first traveled to Earth. But he had discovered, not entirely without Amanda's strong preference for his appearance in jeans, that the human style had its advantages as well.
Amanda had been pleased to discover: Vulcans did not wear underwear.
Her friends had, individually and in small groups, questioned the wisdom of her decision to marry the ambassador. They had questioned the wisdom of dating him in the first place and nothing they had seen in the meantime, they told her at various volumes to express their opinions, had allayed their concerns. But Amanda had been certain, had seen a side of Sarek that captured her imagination, that captured her heart in ways she had not previously experienced.
He stood for her inspection; she looked her fill. His body was broad, mature and heavy with muscle. His cock was large, erect and flushed a darker green than the strong thighs and belly which framed it. The thatch of his public hair was tidy, groomed. Amanda suspected she would never tire of looking at him.
Amanda raised her hips, hiked the nightgown up over her hips. She knew he could see the moisture dampening her own public hair, reflecting the throbbing that had grown inside her as she watched. "Husband, I require thee." The formal words had been hard for her at the Vulcan marriage ceremony, had felt strange on her tongue no matter how much time she had spent beforehand practicing them. But the months since had given her ample opportunity for practice; Sarek's response was always... inspired.
There were, she reflected again as he moved, with a speed she still found unnerving, to crush the fabric of her negligee beneath him, before their minds crashed together and he overwhelmed her with the slide of his naked body, benefits to having such a predictable man as her husband.
Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)
Pairing: Sarek/Amanda
Rating: R (I say cock, can I say cock and have it be R?)
Summary: Amanda waits at home for Sarek's return from work
Word count: ~2,000
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Feedback: Yes!
Note: This is for the striptease/exposure square of my kink bingo card. And yet there is more schmoop than kink, I think. Ah well, Sarek and Amanda are hot and sweet. One more to go for a bingo!
"Wife?" Sarek's voice traveled down the hallway ahead of his footsteps, to the bedroom where Amanda had smiled to herself as she watched the old-fashioned clock march with Vulcan precision to what would have been 5:47pm on the dot if they had been on Earth. She hadn't noticed it at first, too caught up in disguising her own difficulty adjusting to life on a planet so different from her home; it had taken six months to realize that not only did Sarek leave the house at the same time each morning, but he returned in the evening with a scant three minutes in variance. It made her laugh, and he had often caught her mouth in the remnants of a lingering smile when he kissed her, always chaste kisses in greeting that often turned salacious because kissing Sarek was one of her favorite hobbies.
"In the bedroom, Sarek." It wasn't actually necessary to inform him. There were only so many places she could be in the efficient little house that was, with Amanda's careful choices, becoming an apt illustration of just how well Vulcans and humans could live together. But Amanda shifted against the pillows and waited for him to appear in the doorway.
There were benefits to having such a predictable man as her husband. Sarek's shoulders, broad and solid, nearly filled the width of the doorway, especially padded as they were in the traditional Vulcan robes he wore to the embassy offices. She had similar things in her wardrobe but the rich woven fabrics were too much for her in the heat of the day. Sarek never seemed to sweat though.
"Are you well?" Sarek stepped into the room but stopped when he saw her, posed as she was on their bed. His eyebrows crept higher, nearly an expression of bewilderment. Amanda couldn't blame him.
The filmy, transparent fabric of the nightgown she wore was a stark contrast to the heavy brocade that draped past Sarek's knees and the layers she knew he wore underneath. Her hair was unbound, a messy tumble around her shoulders and down over the slope of her breasts. She had learned the elaborate Vulcan hair styles from his mother and his sisters, only grumbling to Sarek about the way Vulcans could not do anything simple when the stern women had all departed. But when it was just the two of them, away from all outside observation, Sarek brushed her hair for her and buried his fingers in the curls of it, wrapped it around his fist as they claimed each other.
His eyes were heating up; Amanda tilted her head back and shifted again under the weight of his gaze. "I'm quite well, husband." She trailed a single finger down her throat and along the plunging neckline of her negligee. "And you? How was your day?"
It was satisfying to see him swallow before he opened his mouth to speak. Sarek was, above all things, in control of himself. When she could, when he allowed it, strain that control, it made her feel wanton and provacative in ways the human lovers in her past had never managed.
"It was adequate." Sarek's voice was one of Amanda's favorite things: dulcet and deep and slightly raspy when aroused. "However, I find your company preferable to that of my assistants."
What woman, human or Vulcan, wouldn't melt when faced with that, knowing it was completely honest? There was nothing to motivate resistance on Amanda's part. Instead, she patted the bed beside her. "I'm certainly glad to hear that I rate higher than an office full of junior diplomats." She couldn't stop the grin from pulling at her mouth.
Sarek obeyed her gesture - but his steps faltered before he reached the bed. "Your garment appears quite delicate, wife. It would be unfortunate to damage it."
Amanda Grayson had been Mandy to her parents when she was a baby. She had been baby and honey to various relatives and, in college, to various boyfriends. She had been lover and even, for one unfortunate week, kissielips to various men she had dated more seriously. If anyone had asked, Amanda would have told them that she prefered her proper name. Until Sarek - he had called her my intended even before she had agreed to marry him. And after the ceremonies and the publicity and the awkward negotiations with the embassy and Star Fleet both, he had called her wife.
If anyone had asked, Amanda would have told them it was none of their business. But she had clenched tight around him, arms and legs and cunt, when he had first whispered it on their wedding night and she had not gotten tired of it yet.
"You'll just have to be careful with it then, won't you?" She looked up at him through her lashes and waited for him to approach again. Her smile fell a little, though, when he failed to join her on the bed. "Sarek?"
She knew him well enough - that twitch of his lips was as near to a smile as he would allow himself. And so Amanda caught her breath, pleased anticipation renewed, when his hands went to the fastenings of his robes. He was pleased, and a pleased Sarek was often an indulgently playful Sarek.
"Logic dictates such an alluring garment remain for greatest effect. I shall thus discard my own garments." Sarek unlaced the hidden ties that held the outer robe closed.
Oh. Oh. "I do love a logical man." Amanda bent her knees, put her feet flat against the bed surface. It was enough to send the frothy lace of her gown to tumble toward her thighs. He liked her legs and she liked the way his eyes focused on them. She also liked the slow and deliberate way he was easing the formal robes off his shoulders, revealing the finer material of his inner robes.
There was something intimate about it, even though he was still fully clothed. Vulcans were, if nothing else, Amanda had observed it before and had it confirmed during her time on Vulcan, so rigid in their public presentation that any deviation from it in private felt almost painfully naked. When Sarek continued, unfastening the belt of his inner robe, Amanda caught her breath.
"Do you approve of this, wife?" A warmth rose from between her thighs up through her chest at the feel of him in her mind, the sight of him as he advanced to the foot of the bed, the sound of him as he teased her gently. The inner robe joined the outer robe, folded and discarded across the arm of the chair she liked to use for putting on her shoes.
His neatness, even as he performed a very reserved striptease for her pleasure, made her heart race even though he was still fully dressed by human standards. Amanda often laughed at herself, at the things that tied her up in knots with how much she loved this man, how fiercely glad she was to be sharing his life. "Oh, I certainly approve, husband." She moved, could no longer just recline and watch, crawled closer to sit with her legs crossed, spaghetti strap falling down one arm. He reached for it but withdrew before he touched her and Amanda almost moaned.
Sarek sat in the same chair to remove his boots and socks. Amanda made an impatient noise. He had elegant feet, high arches and long toes - she admired them until he stood, the agile fingers she wanted to put to certain specific uses moving from button to button on his long-sleeved shirt.
The cloth parted over his chest and she sighed, pleased. Sarek's chest was broad, the smooth skin dusted with dark hair curling and narrowing into a trail that disappeared behind the waist of his pants. The olive hue of his nipples tempted her - Amanda delighted in nipping at the nubs until Sarek physically restrained her from tormenting him. He had very sensitive nipples.
She watched with avid interest as he shrugged out of the shirt, the muscles of his shoulders and arms bunching and stretching as he moved. When he turned to fold the shirt and place it in the laundry bin, the shifting interplay of musculature in his back increased her desire to touch, to be the cause of that ripple and flex as he thrust into her.
"Hurry up, Sarek." Amanda's own voice was throaty and rich. She had planned to seduce him with the lingerie she had been saving for a special occasion, no real occasion at all but her own mood as the day had progressed, but his methodical undressing was undoing her instead.
He would never allow anyone else to see it but the mischievous light in Sarek's eyes was Amanda's answer. Her husband's excitement was evident when he turned back to her, bare-chested, still wearing his light trousers though they now strained with the evidence of his own enjoyment. "It would be illogical to rush through that which I savor, wife." He had told her before - Vulcan rationale dictated that sexual shame between mates was illogical and so he spoke to her with a frankness that often had her blushing - that he found her desire for him fascinating, enthralling, delicious.
Amanda moaned her protest but fell back into an inviting sprawl. "I've got other things for you to savor." She cupped a breast, caught at her own nipple through the material that had remained on her body for far longer than she had expected.
A green flush blossomed at the base of Sarek's neck and rose up to bloom on his cheeks and eartips. "I am most aware." He watched, eyes hot and dark, as the hand at her breast slid down toward the hem of her nightie. His own hands were stilled, fingers caught in the waistband of his pants. That wasn't what she wanted. It was a relief when he moved again, worked the button and zipper and shucked the pants down over his long legs, efficient even though he still was not hurried.
Sarek had worn the traditional, drawstring Vulcan pants under his robes when he had first traveled to Earth. But he had discovered, not entirely without Amanda's strong preference for his appearance in jeans, that the human style had its advantages as well.
Amanda had been pleased to discover: Vulcans did not wear underwear.
Her friends had, individually and in small groups, questioned the wisdom of her decision to marry the ambassador. They had questioned the wisdom of dating him in the first place and nothing they had seen in the meantime, they told her at various volumes to express their opinions, had allayed their concerns. But Amanda had been certain, had seen a side of Sarek that captured her imagination, that captured her heart in ways she had not previously experienced.
He stood for her inspection; she looked her fill. His body was broad, mature and heavy with muscle. His cock was large, erect and flushed a darker green than the strong thighs and belly which framed it. The thatch of his public hair was tidy, groomed. Amanda suspected she would never tire of looking at him.
Amanda raised her hips, hiked the nightgown up over her hips. She knew he could see the moisture dampening her own public hair, reflecting the throbbing that had grown inside her as she watched. "Husband, I require thee." The formal words had been hard for her at the Vulcan marriage ceremony, had felt strange on her tongue no matter how much time she had spent beforehand practicing them. But the months since had given her ample opportunity for practice; Sarek's response was always... inspired.
There were, she reflected again as he moved, with a speed she still found unnerving, to crush the fabric of her negligee beneath him, before their minds crashed together and he overwhelmed her with the slide of his naked body, benefits to having such a predictable man as her husband.
