textfiles/sex/EROTICA/E/eye.txt

"The Eye of Heaven"

A Romance

        Data awoke from his sleep cycle with a start. His cat had jumped on
his chest, purring contentedly. Gently, he picked up Spot and set her down
on the bed. It was not a good time to be awoken.
        He got out of bed and looked at himself in the mirror. He took a
brush and combed back the few misplaced hairs on his head. Ever since
Geordi has installed the emotion chip Dr, Soong has created for him, he
was fascinated at discovering the many emotions that he had noted in
humans before, but could not understand, such as the vanity of looking
one's best even when no one else is around.
        He noticed something in the mirror and looked down at himself. He
was surprised to see he had an erection.
        Dr. Soong had made him, as he once told Tasha Yar while they
were both under the influence of the Psi 2000 virus, fully functional, down
to a operational set of sexual organs. He even suspected that, since he
knew all the physical characteristics of Dr. Soong, that he had given his
creation a sizable set to make up for his own shortcomings.
        But unlike humans, he had to concentrate to have an erection. It
wasn't a reflexive function.
        He ran an internal scan of his nervous system. No anomalies.
        Then he noticed that the swelling had gone away.
        He remembered male crewmembers of the Enterprise sometimes
joking that they had to think about sports to keep from becoming sexually
aroused by female crewmembers. He now supposed that his preoccupation
about his erection had actually distracted him enough to make him lose it.
        Still, he was curious, and decided that he would have to determine
whether there was some defect in his sex organs or whether this was part
of the emotion chip, In the meantime, though, he had other things to do.
        "Computer," he said. "Begin recording personal log."
        "Acknowledged," the computer responded.
        "Personal log, Lieutenant Commander Data reporting."
        Data had been making reports on his dreams ever since he
discovered the subroutine in his positronic brain that allowed him to dream.
He was sending descriptions of a select few to Commander Maddox, who
was conducting studies of Data's brain, and had asked for even more
reports since the emotion chip was installed. Still, he held a few dreams
back, those who he felt would be embarrassed by what they did in his
dreams. He knew that this dream was one of those.
        "My dream last night involved Counselor Troi. We were again on
the bridge of the Enterprise, immediately after it crash-landed on Veridian
III. We were thrown through the viewscreen and I was protecting her from
the debris. The ship shuttered to a halt. I looked down at her and asked,
'Are you all right?' She responded, 'I'm fine.' Then she raised her hand to
my face, caressing it. 'Thank you for protecting me.'
        "She pressed her lips to mine. I was surprised at first, but then
found myself enjoying the sensation. I briefly looked around and saw that 
there was no one else on the bridge.
        "She broke off the kiss and sat back. She turned around, lifting her
hair. 'Data,' she said, 'could you help me with this?'
        "I had no idea what was going on, but wished to be helpful, so I did
as she requested. She slid her uniform off her shoulders, then unclasped her
brassiere. She then turned around, removing her undergarment. 'Data, what
do you think?'
        "'Of?' I asked.
        "She giggled. 'My breasts, of course.'
        "I, of course, have seen images of breasts before in my studies of
humanity, and even seen those of Tasha, but these were the first breasts I
had seen since receiving the emotion chip. They stirred feelings in me I had
not felt before. I was drawn to them, to their shape, to the darkened nipples
which were now erect. I wished to touch them, but found myself unable to
generate the initiative to do so.
        "Counselor Troi must have sensed by hesitancy, for she took my
right hand and placed in on her breast. 'Go ahead,' she said. 'Touch me.'
        "Her breasts were larger than Tasha's, and had a smooth, silky
feeling to them. Feeling bolder, I raised my left hand as well, and soon I
was fondling both breasts. I even gently pulled on the nipples, which
Counselor Troi seemed to enjoy.
        "'Kiss them,' she said.
        "Again, wishing to please her, I did as she requested. I released her
breasts, then gave each one a kiss.
        "She shook her head, apparently amused. 'Data, I mean I want you
to kiss them repeatedly, not just once.'
        "She lay back on the floor, pulling me down with her. I began to
kiss her breasts, leaving trails of saliva on them. I even suckled at them,
using my tongue to flick the nipples. Again, she seemed to enjoy this.
        "As I was doing this, she began to slide her uniform over her waist.
'Data, please take it off.'
        "I slid her uniform off the rest of the way, leaving her nude except
for her panties. "What do you wish me to do now?' I asked.
        "'Kiss me. Down there.'
        "'Down where?' I asked, not knowing if she was referring to her
knees or to her feet.
        "She giggled again. She began to remove the cotton blue panties.
'Here, Data. My pussy.'
        "I moved up her body to her sex organs. There was a fine layer of
dark hair covering the entrance to her vagina, so I used my fingers to
spread it and the outer layer of flesh to expose it. I then began to kiss her,
which caused her to moan gently.
        "'Suck me, Data. Lick me.'
        "I did as she requested. I located her clitoris, and gently placed my
lips on it, sucking on it as I had her nipples. This seemed to stimulate her
even more.
        "'Yes, Data. Suck me. Ohhhh, please, don't stop. Lick me.'
        "I returned my attentions to her vagina. I came upon the notion of
using my tongue to penetrate her like a penis, so I stuck out my tongue and
placed it in her, then pulling it back."
        "'Oh, yes, Data, yes! Tongue-fuck me. Put it in me. Ohh, yesss!'
        "I must admit to being slightly disappointed that my idea was not an
original one, as it seemed to be something Counselor Troi had already
experienced. Nevertheless, I continued to penetrate her orally.
        "The counselor was moving her hips up and down, grinding her
vagina against my mouth and nose.
        "Put your fingers inside me, Data. Please.'
        "Gently I inserted my index finger as I continued to lick her vagina.
I began to manipulate it as if it were a penis, figuring this was why she had
asked me to do this.
        "'Fuck. Yess. Ohhh, yesss. I'm getting ready to cum, Data. Please,
don't stop, don't stop!'
        "Again, I was puzzled, this time as her admontion to not stop, since
I had no intention of stopping this encounter once it was initiated, but I
said nothing. I was unable to say anything, actually, because of my
position.
        "'I'm cumming. Oh, yess! Oh, gods! Yesss!'
        "I felt the fluid on my tongue and on my lips as she thrashed about.
It tasted slightly salty, much like Tasha's. I do not know if this is the way 
it
would actually taste. I believe that I imagined it has a similar flavor 
because
Tasha's vaginal fluids are the only ones I have ever been in contact with.'
        "Counselor Troi continued to thrash about in the wake of her
orgasm, settling down after a few moments. 'Data, that was incredible,' she
moaned.
        "'Thank you, Counselor.' I replied.
        "She laughed. 'I think now we're close enough that you can call me
Deanna.'
        "'All right, Deanna.' I answered."
        She sat up, taking my face in her hands and kissing me again. She
slipped her tongue between my lips, and even licked at my face. I suspected
she was actually tasting her own fluids on my face.
        "'OK, Data,' she said, reaching behind me for the fastener on my
uniform. 'It's your turn.'
        "I slid around, giving her better access to the fastener. She undid it
all the way, and I removed my tunic. She caressed my chest. Then she
moved her hand to my groin. She grasped my penis, which was still flaccid.
        "'Don't I arouse you?'
        "'It is not that. It is simply a matter of concentration.' I then
expanded my penis to its full erect state.
        "She gently stroked my penis within the confines of my pants. I
began to enjoy the sensation. Even though I can control when I have
orgasms, I felt as close to losing control as I have ever come.
        "She then undid the fastener of my pants, freeing my organ. She
admired it for a moment. 'Time to return the favor,' she said. She began to
move her head toward my penis.
        "It was at that moment that Spot woke me up."
        He looked at the cat, resting contentedly on the bed.
        "Sometimes pet ownership can be quite frustrating."
        He looked back down at himself and noticed that his penis was
once again erect.
        "Fascinating," he muttered.

        Deanna Troi woke up with a smile on her face, which puzzled her.
        She looked down at herself. Her sheets had been thrown onto the
floor, and her dressing gown was undone -more like torn open - all the way
down to her waist, exposing one of her breasts to the cool morning air of
San Francisco.
        It was not the first time she had awoken like this. As a half-
Betazed, she felt emotions very strongly, and as such often needed to
contain them around humans, who sometimes she thought were as
constrained as Vulcans about outward displays of affection.
        At night, though, in her dreams, she could give them free rein. Will
Riker used to complain about her thrashing about, she remembered with a
small smile, complaining that he didn't know which part of their lovemaking
was harder to endure, the scratches she left on his back, or the bruises she
left on his chest while sleeping in his arms. On the other hand, Worf told
her that she enjoyed both.
        She thought of the two men as she tried to sort her thoughts and
clear her head of sleep. Will had left a week before, anxious to get back
into space as soon as possible after the destruction of the Enterprise.
Starfleet had asked him to stay at the headquarters, even hinting that he
would probably be given command of the next starship, which was to be
christened in six months, if he would stay and oversee her final warp tests.
But he left anyway, taking the first available post, as first officer on the
Cochrane. She supposed much of it had to do with unreasonable guilt over
losing the Enterprise while he was in command.
        Worf had left before that. Their parting was amicable. She had
known from the beginning that a relationship with a Klingon would be
difficult, for they placed honor above all else, even love. But she still had 
to
feel some rejection when he left to study at Klingon monasteries rather than
stay and explore their feelings for each other.
        She rose from the bed to look out of the window of the Starfleet
cubicle she, like all the remaining members of the crew of the late starship
Enterprise, had been assigned, watching as a shuttle passed by the ancient
Golden Gate Bridge on its way northward.
        She now realized what it was that was troubling her. As a half-
Betazed, and unlike humans, she could remember her dreams. They were
more like actual experiences to her, and when she got depressed, and even
chocolate couldn't help her, she would often replay a vivid one in her mind
and she would cheer up.
         But she did not remember having a dream the night before.

End of Part 1


The Eye of Heaven
Part 2

---------------------------------

        Deanna entered the Starfleet mess hall an hour later. She looked
around for familiar faces, knowing that she would find fewer today than
yesterday, and even fewer than the day before. The former crewmembers
of the Enterprise were getting on with their lives.
        Beverly had rejoined Starfleet Medical, regaining the position that
had once taken her away from The Enterprise, but which now was hers
without regrets. Geordi had accepted a research post at the Daystrom
Institute. Even Guinan had disappeared, without saying goodbye, as she
always did. Being several hundred years old, she had once confided to
Troi, she knew that goodbyes never got any easier. Besides, the one
constant in the universe is that you will run into everyone you have ever
known at least one more time after you think you have departed forever.
        She tried to let that thought comfort her as she walked into the
room full of strangers
        She walked up to a replicator and ordered chocolate-chip pancakes
with maple syrup and a cup of cocoa. She picked up the tray that
materialized and looked around the room again.
        She passed a table of young ensigns and again sensed a wave of
curiosity, the same wave she felt as she was recognized as a member of the
Enterprise crew. The crew that saved Veridian III. The crew that had seen
the legendary Captain Kirk. The crew that saved the Federation from the
Borg.
        She felt silly being idolized.
        Then she saw him in a back corner, studying what appeared to be
an ancient Earth book. She maneuvered through the room to the table.
        "Data," she greeted. "It's good to see a friendly face."
        He looked up and smiled. "Counselor. I am pleased to see you as
well."
        She still was unaccustomed to seeing his displays of emotion, but
they were getting more natural every time she saw him. She sat down
across from him. "We're not on the ship anymore, so I'm not a counselor."
        His face fell. "Oh. I am sorry. Is it unpleasant for you when I call
you that?"
        "Why would it be unpleasant?"
        "I thought perhaps it conjured up memories of the Enterprise. I
know that when I think of the ship, I feel sad. I mourn the loss. I miss my
friends. I miss the exploration. I thought, perhaps, you did as well."
        She sensed his sadness. Again, she had to flinch a little at this.
Data's emotions were unlike those of organics. They had a metallic sense to
them, like Synthanol did compared to real wine. They were servicable but
nothing compared to the genuine article.
        "No, I'm not sad when I think of the Enterprise. I think we'll be
together again someday. Don't ask me how I know. I just do."
        "I do hope so."
        She took a sip of her cocoa. "What have you got?"
        He held up the book. "It is a book of sonnets by William
Shakespeare. It was a gift from Captain Picard before he left for the Utopia
Planitia Yards. He said that in light of my recent acquisition of emotions,
that there was no better way to learn about what it was like to have them
than to read more Shakespeare."
        "Are you enjoying them?"
        "To be honest, no. I find the imagery interesting, and the phrasing
pleasant, but I fear I am missing the author's intent."
        She took a bite of her pancakes as he was talking. "Perhaps I can
help. Read me one of the sonnets."
        Data flipped through a couple of pages. "Here is one:
                Let not my love be called idolatry
                Nor my beloved as an idol show
                Since all alike my songs and praises be
                To one, to one, still such and ever so.
                Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind
                Still constant in a wondrous excellence.
                Therefore my verse, to constancy confined
                One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
                'Fair, kind and true' is all my argument
                'Fair, kind and true' varying to other words,
                And in this change is my invention spent
                Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
                        Fair, kind and true have often lived alone
                        Which three till now ever kept seat in one.

        Troi was lost in the words and Data's gentle recitation, and it took a
moment for her to realize he was gazing at her in curiosity. "Huh?"
        "I said, I believe he is talking about his loved one, but I do not
understand what he is trying to say about her."
        "Oh. I'm sorry. Could you please repeat the sonnet? And any others
you have questions about."
        "Certainly."
        Troi smiled, and settled in to listen.

        After breakfast, Deanna was planning to tour some of the sights of
San Francisco. She did not know how much longer she was going to be in
town, and she did not want to miss the revival of the ancient play "Beach
Blanket Babylon." Worf had told her about it and the thought of an ancient
prison site strangely fascinated her.
        She stepped into the turbolift to return to her room to dress for the
excursion. "Level 15," she ordered.
        The turbolift began to move.
        She then became aware of a rush of fluid coming from her vagina.
It stained the front of her jumpsuit.
        "Emergency stop," she shouted, instinctively. The lift jumped to a
halt.
        She felt the crotch area of her clothing, then raised her hand up to
her nose. It was indeed her vaginal juices. The heady aroma pushed the
world out of her mind.
        She undid the front of her suit and slid her hand inside her panties
and felt herself. The second her hand touched her sensitive skin, she felt a
tingle that almost magnetically drew her to insert her index finger past her
puffy outer lips into herself. She stuck her finger in up to her first 
knuckle,
then to her second, then down to the hand. She then withdrew it and then
put in her first two fingers.
        She didn't know why she was doing it. She only knew she couldn't
stop.
        She slid to the floor and began to finger-fuck herself, using the slow
pace that she preferred from her lovers.
        "Ooooooh," she moaned, the sound escaping her lips. She could
also hear the moist friction of her fingers, and her vagina almost
magnetically drew her fingers back into herself as quickly as she withdrew
them.
        She heard the chirp of the lift intercom. "Turbolift 6, is everything
all right?"
        She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
        She heard someone say, "OK, the lift is empty. Use the emergency
override to bring the lift down ..." before the channel closed.
        She quickened the pace of her hand, feeling the soft inside of
herself,  then bringing her other hand down to manipulate her clitoris. She
played with it like a mini-penis, running her finger up and down it.
        She moaned, knowing no one could hear her. "Ooooh, ooooohh."
        She moved the other hand up and down, trying to feel as much of
herself as she could.
        She felt her orgasm build up, powering up like a engine preparing
for warp. She was on the verge of hyperventilating, twisting her head from
side to side uncontrollably.
        Her body tripped the orgasm, flooding her hands with more juices.
She kept fucking herself, unwilling and unable to stop, as she gushed on
herself. Her body shook like she was cold, and she raised her hands to her
face, wetting herself down with her juices. She licked her fingers, savoring
the moist taste.
        The sudden jerk of the turbolift brought her to her senses. She
realized that in a few seconds the door would open and a Starfleet repair
crew would see her. She leaped to her feet, pulled her underwear back into
place and refastened the front of her suit.
        The doors slid open, and she was face to face with an Andorian in a
tan uniform.
        "Are you all right?" he asked.
        She brushed her hair back. "Uh, I'm very claustrophobic. That's
why I'm all sweaty. I panicked."
        "They told me the lift was empty."
        "I was ... too upset to speak. I was on the floor .. you know, about
to pass out from the panic."
        The Andorian looked at her, as if unconvinced, then looked at the
floor. "I better go get a mop." He departed.
        She leaned against the wall next to the lift door. What was that, she
asked herself. I need to see a doctor.
        For a moment, she thought of trying to find Beverly, but she knew
that could take hours. She then remembered Dr. Selar was still staying at
Starfleet Headquarters. She called the next turbolift to return to her room
to change clothes. She folded her arms, afraid to get her hands close to her
waist.

        Dr. Selar closed the cover of the medical tricorder. "You seem to
be in fine health, Counselor. I am unable to locate any physical problems."
They were in Selar's quarters. Troi was too embarrassed to ask any of the
headquarters personnel to check her out, and as a doctor on the Enterprise
for the seven years they had served together, Selar was as close to being
her personal doctor as Beverly was.
        "Could you check again?" Troi sat on the Vulcan's bed.
        The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "It would be much easier for me to
diagnose your problem is you were to reveal to me what the symptoms
are."
        Deanna blushed. "I'm sorry. I just feel so strange ..." She hesitated.
        "Patients are often reluctant to discuss delicate matters with their
doctors."
        "No, it's not that. I just feel strange discussing this sort of 
problem
with ... a Vulcan."
        "Oh. I understand." Selar put the tricorder down. "This is a sexual
problem."
        "Yes. How did you ..."
        The doctor interrupted, "It is a common misconception that since
Vulcan males only feel the pon farr every seven years that we are not
comfortable or familiar with sexual matters. Actually, quite the opposite. It
is precisely because Vulcans do not have to worry about sex for every
seven years that we are able to analyze and comprehend the complexities of
the subject."
        Deanna could see the logic in this.
        "So what is your problem?"
        "As I was standing in the turbolift, my body began to produced
vaginal fluids on its own, and then I was struck by a compulsion to
masturbate."
        The Vulcan's expression did not change. "Was there any stimuli that
could have triggered the episode?"
        "Such as?"
        "A handsome man. A memory. Chocolate?"
        "No. I was just standing there."
        "Interesting. I understand that Betazed women undergo some sort
of biological change that increases their sex drive by four-fold."
        "Yes, The Phase. But that doesn't happen in women my age. It
doesn't happen until about 50.
        "I see. She walked over to her computer terminal. "Computer,
access Starfleet Medical Database."
        "Accessed," the flat female tones of the computer responded.
        "Conduct search on artificial causes of compulsive behavior, cross-
referencing Betazeds and sexual behavior."
        "Processing. Two matches."
        Selar studied the screen. "One involves digestion of a rare flower
on Wrigley's Pleasure Planet."
        "I've never been there." Though she remembered Will had.
        "The other cause is the Psi2000 virus." She looked up at Troi. "I
know you are well acquainted with that virus."
        "Is it possible that the virus is causing that?"
        "Doubtful. In all documented cases, there have been no
reoccurrences, even among those re-exposed to the virus."
        "I see."
        Selar walked back to Troi. "Is it possible the compulsion has a
psychosomatic cause?"
        Troi shrugged. "I don't know. It's possible."
        "I would suggest that you make an appointment with a psychologist
when it is convenient. I am afraid I cannot help you more."
        Troi stood. "Thanks, anyway." She turned to leave.
        "Counselor."
        Troi turned back around.
        Selar folded her arms against her chest. "As a Vulcan I realize that I
do not have the most comforting bedside manner, but I would suggest that
you do not worry. This incident doesn't seem to be dangerous, and perhaps
was just the result of stress. We have all undergone stress since the
destruction of the Enterprise. Perhaps you more than anyone. I would not
worry if I were you. There are certainly worse afflictions to be suffering
from."
        Troi smiled a little. "Thank you." She left.

        She went back to her room, unlocking it with her thumbprint. She
looked around, still expecting to see her old familiar surroundings from the
Enterprise. Her flowers. Her memory crystals. The comfortable chair she
sat in when she listened to the problems of her shipmates. Instead, she
found the spartan Starfleet-issued mauve furniture. The quarters were not
meant to be lived in for an extended period of time, and had all the
personality of a blank wall. All her possessions were in storage.
        She slumped down at her terminal. "Computer, any messages?"
        "Three," the flat voice came back. "First message received, 0730,
from Outpost 36."
        "Deanna."
        She felt that same chill she felt whenever she heard Will Riker's
voice. When she was younger she thought it was love. Now she knew it
was just sexual excitement, but it was still bracing to hear him say her
name.
        "I'm on my way on a three week mission to map the outer fringes of
the Badlands. I just wanted to ask you again to serve as counselor on the
Yorktown. It's a fine ship, everything I want in a command, but it just
doesn't feel right without you here to guide me in the right directions. I'll
talk to you in three weeks. Goodbye, Imzadi."
        She closed her eyes at that word. That wasn't playing fair, calling
her that. She was considering the post, but had not made up her mind that
deep space was where she wanted to be right now. She was enjoying
having a planet beneath her for the first time in seven years. She wanted to
stay in one place, even if it was just for a little while,
        "Second message, 0750."
        "Hello, little one."
        "Mother," Deanna said, as she always did in response to Lwaxana's
voice.
        "I was just checking in to see how my little girl is doing. I'm on my
way to earth, strangely enough, to visit some old friends in the diplomatic
corps. If you want to, you could join me and do some networking ..."
        Deanna shook her head. Here we go again.
        "I mean, you don't have any plans, I know, and the diplomatic corps
needs someone like you. Someone who's had experience with many
different cultures ..."
        She tuned her mother out mentally. She'd heard this speech before,
many times. It wasn't that diplomacy didn't interest her; in fact, she was
seriously considering taking up her mother's offer. It was just the idea of
following her mother around like a little child again. She had just come
back from a seven year mission of deep space exploration. Did she really
want to go back to being a child again?
        "So I'll see you next week. Bye, Little One." Lwaxana made a
smooching sound.
        "Third message. 0905."
        "Ms Troi, this is Commander Thane of Starfleet Command. I want
to make an appointment with you to discuss the position I discussed with
you on Tuesday."
        Thane had mentioned Starfleet was interested in having her teach a
training course for prospective counselors for deep-space missions, but he
hadn't described it as a position before. She thought it would be just a two-
week course, something to occupy her while she decided what to do next.
        "We're really interested in setting up an advanced training regimen
for deep-space counselors, and we think no one is better qualified than you.
So please contact me at your earliest convenience."
        "Messages ended."
        She sat back in her chair. Three paths for the future. Which one do
I take? Do I take any of them?"
        She got up and walked to her room replicator. It was a small one,
meant for snacks, not full meals.
        "Computer, make me a double hot fudge sundae, hold the nuts."
        The dessert appeared on the pad.
        Yes. she thought, this is definitely a double hot fudge problem.

        Data sat alone in his quarters. Spot was napping on the bed, not the
cozy basket Data had prepared for him to sleep in.
        He ran another self-diagnostic, the sixth this morning. He wondered
if he was becoming obsessive over the erection thing.
        Out of curiosity, he had done research on the male genitalia and
theories on sexual stimulation. Aside from strictly technical physiological
information, the only insight Data had gained from his research was that
discussion of the sexual act was much like, as Geordi had once told him,
breaking down Alderbaran whisky into its component molecules: you learn
what went into it, but the flavor was definitely lost in the process.
        The self-diagnostic again turned up nothing.
        Data sighed.
        Then he realized he had sighed. He never sighed.
        Another mystery, he thought to himself. Erections. Sighing. What
did it mean?

        "Alcatraz was constructed in the late 19th century and served as a
detention center for criminals for several decades," the tour guide droned,
obviously past the point of caring what he was saying anymore and going
strictly on autopilot. "After that, it became a tourist attraction until the
great earthquake of 2018, which submerged the island. Then in 2240, a
consortium of investors constructed the biodome, and tours once again
resumed."
        Troi, like most of the tourists, turned her gaze upward to the
transparent aluminum dome overhead, at the mention of its name. The sun
was clearly visible through the forty or so feet of water between the top of
the dome and the surface.
        "The site now is doubly interesting, for the original site as well as
the reminders of what early 21st century man left behind on the island. We
will see original Big Gulp cups as well as a primitive communication device
known as a "cell phone."
        A couple of Ferengi oohed at the mention of the phone. A whole
tour shuttle load of them crowded around, carrying holocameras and
wearing obnoxiously loud shirts.
        Troi longed for the days when T-shirts were silent, before some
entrepreneur decided talking shirts were cute.
        The one in front of her, set off by her closeness, blurted out, "My
parents went to Earth and all I got was this lousy T-shirt."
        Deanna lagged behind the group. She began to regret coming on
this tour, bothered by the tourists, but more preoccupied by the incident in
the elevator.
        Never had she lost control of her actions like that, and certainly she
had never compulsively masturbated in a public place before. Her prim and
proper bearing, a defense against being overwhelmed by the emotions of
others, had more and more in the intervening years she had joined Starfleet,
become a part of her. It was one of the reasons she and Will had broken
up, because he found it easier to be her friend than to try to break through
the wall she had built around herself.
        She longed for someone who she could be herself with, to let go
with all her emotions, to be as wild and reckless as she knew she could be.
        The group rounded a corner. Deanna leaned against one of the
ancient cell doors.
        She heard a low rumbling sound behind her. She turned around.
        Worf stood there, his head tilted.
        "Worf? What are you doing here?"
        He charged at the bars, roaring. He kicked the door open, grabbed
Deanna and pushed her against the wall.
        "Worf!" She knew what his actions meant. He wanted her, and he
wanted her now, and he would not be denied.
        "Do not speak!" he grumbled. "I will have you!"
        He pulled the elastic fabric of her suit down over her shoulders, the
neck pinning her arms to her side, exposing her breasts.
        He saw her puckered nipples. "I see you want me."
        She was too stunned to speak.
        He took her breasts in his hands, roughly handling them, pulling on
the nipples.
        "No, Worf." She looked over his shoulder. No one was around,
        "I said silence!" He lunged forward, biting her shoulder hard
enough to sting, but not enough to break the skin.
        She pressed against the wall, beginning to be stimulated against her
will. She did not particularly enjoy rough sex, but because it was Worf, it
was different. He knew how far to go without taking the extra step into
sadism.
        He let go her breasts, reaching down and feeling her vagina through
her jumpsuit. "I want you to cum, Deanna," he said with a hint of menace
in his voice. "On my hand."
        She began to move against his hand, as he tried to slip his fingers
inside her slit through the material. The smooth fabric of her panties slid
against her sensitive insides.
        "No, Worf," she moaned, turning her head to the side. "Not here."
        He continued to pump his hand. "Yes, here. Now."
        She beat her hands on his shoulders, partly because she hoped he
would release her, but mostly because she knew he enjoyed it.
        He held his hand in place now, sliding it back and forth, then up
against her clitoris, where he began to penetrate her again. He moved faster
now.
        She grabbed onto his shoulders now, digging her fingernails into
him. "Mmmm. Oh, Worf. That's it. Right there. Deeper, deeeeper."
        He grinned that confident victory smile she knew so well, the
conquering Klingon claims another win. He had broken her resistance once
again.
        She moved against his hand as fast as he stuck it in. She knew she
couldn't hold out much longer.
        "Cum, Deanna!"
        She did as she was told, letting out a long moan as she felt her
climax rip through her body, causing her body to go into spasms. She felt
the cold concrete against her bare shoulders as she leaned back for support,
the only things keeping her upright being the wall and Worf's hand.
        He pulled his fingers out, and she slid down against the wall at his
feet, her body limp from the force of her orgasm. She dropped her head,
knowing what was to come next. She would give him oral sex, and soon
the rough armor-like skin of his organ would be between her teeth.
        " ... Then in 2240, a consortium of investors constructed the
biodome, and tours ... oh shit!"
        Deanna looked up. Another tour group had gathered outside the
cell door. Several Ferengi had pulled out their holocameras and started
snapping photos.
        She looked down to see her breasts exposed. Quickly, she slid the
jumpsuit back over them.
        She looked down to see her jumpsuit was again stained by her
vaginal juices.
        Without looking at the faces of the group, she breezed out of the
cell and to the nearest souvenir stand, where she quickly bought a
sweatshirt and wrapped it around her waist like an apron. She then headed
for the aquashuttle dock.
        Her tour was over.


The Eye of Heaven
Part 3
------------------------------------------

        That evening, Troi was preparing for bed. She had draped her
nightgown over her body and was about to lace up the front when a gentle
chirp announced someone was at the door. She quickly pulled on her robe
and said, "Come in."
        The door slid open with a hush. It was Data.
        "Counselor, can I speak with you?"
        "Certainly, Data." She ushered him in the room. "What can I do for
you?"
        The door closed behind him as he entered. "I have been curious
about something." 
        "Yes?"
        "I was wondering what you planned to do next, now that the
Enterprise is gone."
        She sat down in a chair beside her computer terminal. "I don't
know. I've been trying to decide. Please sit down."
        He moved to a chair close to her. "I have been trying to decide as
well. I have been presented with several opportunities, including teaching
posts at Oxford and Princeton, as well as the chairmanship of the Noonian
Soong Institute. But none of these appealed to me."
        "The only advice I can give you is to follow your heart."
        "I am not used to following that."
        "What is it you would like to do?"
        He paused. "I do not know. I am still not experienced enough in
emotion to determine a wide variety of things I enjoy."
        "Well, what have you found so far?"
        "I enjoy painting. Playing with Spot. Conjugating verbs."
        "Conjugating verbs?"
        "Yes. It is quite relaxing. I run. I am running. I ran. I had run. I 
had
been running."
        "Data," she said, amused. "Stop."
        "I stop. I am stopping. I have stopped. I had ..."
        "DATA!" she exclaimed, laughing.
        He looked at her.
        "I meant, stop conjugating verbs."
        "Oh. I am sorry."
        She smiled. "Don't be. That's the first good laugh I've had in hours.
And I needed it."
        "Why? Is there something wrong?"
        She nodded.
        "Can I help?"
        She shook her head. "I don't know if anyone can."
        "I want to try."
        "It's ... " she grappled for the right words, " ... sort of an 
emotional
problem."
        "I see." He looked to the side for a moment, then back at her. "I
know that since I only acquired my emotional programming recently that I
am still a novice in their use and application. However, I would suggest
that since I have the unique standpoint of  inexperience, perhaps I can bring
that to bear upon your predicament."
        She looked at him, confused. "What are you trying to say?"
        "Perhaps I can bring what Commander Riker used to call
"beginner's luck" to your situation."
        She was touched by his efforts to help. "Thank you, Data. Maybe
you can help. But right now, all I want to do is go to bed and sleep."
        "I understand." 
        "How about breakfast tomorrow? I heard about this nice bistro near
Fisherman's Wharf. Then we can talk."
        He stood up. "That would be excellent. What time shall I pick you
up?"
        "About eight?"
        He nodded. "I will be here then. Good night, Counselor."
        "Good night, Data."
        He turned, then paused, as if he just remembered something he had
to tell her, but then thought better of it and left.
        She shook her head at the memory of his conjugations. Data. Ever
since he had gotten his emotions, it was like meeting a whole new person
every time she saw him. And she liked every Data she met more than the
one she had met before.
        She got up and slid her robe off. She looked down at herself,
noticing her gown was still undone. She started to fasten it.
        "Don't do that."
        She whirled around. Standing there, in a flowing white cotton shirt
and black trousers, was Will Riker.
        "What are you doing here? How did you get ..."
        He rushed up to her, covering her mouth with his hand.
        "You ask too many questions, Imzadi."
        He looked like a buccaneer of ancient Earth, she couldn't help but
think.
        He replaced his hand with his lips.
        She resisted at first. Will could be presumptuous at times, but this
was ridiculous. Never mind how far he had traveled.
        But then she felt his right hand travel down her back as his left held
her head to his. He kneaded the soft flesh of her buttock, then traced the
sensitive valley between her asscheeks with his fingers.
        She felt herself begin to dampen.
        He moved his lips to that sensitive area near her jawbone. She
couldn't suppress a moan.
        "I knew you wanted me," he whispered in her ear between kisses.
"It's been too long."
        She moved her hands to his rear. Muscular and tight, she thought.
He must be working out again.
        She pressed herself against his groin. She felt that familiar bump
against her upper thigh. She gently humped against him as he continued to
caress her ass through her satin garment.
        He stood back for a minute, then grabbed the top of her gown and
tore it down and tossed it aside, leaving her exposed to his gaze.
        "As beautiful as I remember, Imzadi," he said, with awe in his
voice. "I must worship such a goddess."
        He fell to his knees before her. He grabbed an asscheek in each
hand and pulled her to his face.
        She had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling down.
        He went straight for her clitoris, just like the old days. He pursed
his lips and drew it in like a straw, running his lips up and down it.
        She had not made love to him since he grew his beard. The rough
whiskers scratched her upper thighs as he moved his face around. It was
another sensation in a sensory overload.
        He ran his tongue now down into her pussy. He licked her like a
boy hungry for candy. He moved his hands to her front, spreading her
opening. "Cum for me, Imzadi. I want to taste you on my tongue."
        She clawed at his shoulders, making tiny tears in his shirt. She felt
her orgasm build. She never had any problems cumming when Will was
around.
        He tongue-fucked her now, moving his hands back to her ass to
pull her as close as possible. "Ooooh," she moaned. "Lick me. Eat me."
        "Play with your nipples, Imzadi," he said, looking up at her. "That
always got you off." He stuck his tongue back inside her running it back
and forth as far in as he could reach.
        She reached up and began twirling her nipples between her thumbs
and forefingers. Her nipples always became extra sensitive during sex.
        As he had predicted, she could not hold back when she did what he
told her to do. She rubbed her vagina against his head faster and faster,
building up as much energy as she could for the explosive orgasm that was
to come.
        Suddenly, release. "Ahhh!" she grunted as she fell back to the floor,
thrashing about and wailing aloud and her vagina unleashed pure sensation
all over her body, and she felt herself explode. Wave upon wave pummeled
her, and she felt a puddle form beneath her.
        She lost track of time as she lay panting, trying to catch her breath.
She slid her hands up to her breasts, as she absent-mindedly toyed with the
nipples.
        "Gods, Imzadi," she moaned, looking up for Will. She would do
anything for him now. Anything to repay his giving her that moment of
pure lust.
        There was no one there.
        She looked down at herself. Her gown lay ripped across the room.
        Gods. What was happening, she asked herself. shaking loose from
her dazed state. She got up, fumbling for her robe. She began to pace the
room.
        This was no symptom of stress, she knew now. Something, or
someone, was making her do and think thing against her will.
        Who had caused to act against her will in the past? Who was
capable of such things.
        Then she remembered Jev. The Ullian who had forced himself into
her mind and committed telepathic rape. He had taken the place of Will in a
memory of one of their most passionate encounters, then twisted it into
perversion for his own sick pleasure.
        This was the only explanation. Someone was mind-raping her.
Again.
        The realization hit her like a punch to the stomach. She had to lean
against a wall to keep from falling down.
        She would rather die than go through that hell again. And there was
only one way to keep it from happening again.

        Down the hall, Data was running diagnostics on himself. It was the
first time that day he had the spare time to fully concentrate on his mystery.
        The diagnostics turned up nothing. The systems that automatically
mimicked human behavior - blinking, breathing, even crying - were all
working perfectly, but he could not find any flaw in his sex organs.
        For the thirtieth time, he made himself erect, then went flaccid
again.
        Then he decided to try an experiment. He recalled the dream
imagery of the night before. He again found himself with an erection.
        He then ran a self-diagnostic on subroutines of his mimicry
programming, and he found it.
        A subset of numbers, buried within a deeper set of numbers. A
mere drop in an ocean of numbers. Buried away deep in his psyche.
        Then his father appeared.
        Dr. Noonian Soong looked as old as Data had ever seen him, and
he had seen his creator just before the old man died. He stood, using a
gnarled piece of wood for support. Data saw that the cane was carved, and
it appeared to have a serpent carved into the sides of it, the tail near the
floor, the body circling the shaft of the wood until the head appeared near
where Dr. Soong grasped it.
        "Hello, Data. If you are seeing me, you've discovered my final
present to you."
        "Final present?"
        "Well, next to final present. I am still working on an emotion chip,
one that will allow you to fulfill all my hopes of giving you a full emotional
life, and that will probably be my last present. But even then, I know that
will be meaningless without this gift, so this one won't activate unless you
receive emotions."
        "What is this gift, father?"
        The old man hobbling closer to his creation. "Data, I give you the
ability to override your programming. To be more than your programming.
I give you the ability to surprise yourself. I give you unpredictability."
        "How can you ..."
        The old man patted the android's cheek. "I simply tossed together a
few chaotic number generators, linked it to a randomizing matrix
formulator, and voila."
        "What does this mean?"
        "It means, Data, that sometimes you will not react to a situation in
a way that you have previously reacted to similar situations. You will have
appropriate, yet involuntary reactions to events around you." He leaned
heavily on his cane, causing it to bend slightly. "It means you will be able 
to
look at a flower and enjoy it for just being a flower, not because you find
its chemical composition interesting." The old man leaned forward, with a
conspiratorial gleam in his eye. "It means you may look at the posterior of
a female and instead of seeing a pleasing shape or an excellent example of
human engineering, you'll just see a nice ass."
        "But how am I supposed to deal with these random elements?"
        Soong stood up straight again. "Just like humans do, Data. The best
you know how. Now I've got to go." He patted Data's cheek again. "Be a
good boy," he said gently, and vanished.
        Data now knew that his father had hoped that he would evolve
enough to want spontaneity. Perhaps he had even hoped that Data would
someday find someone to share a relationship with, one in which attraction
was more than a matter of logic.
        Knowing this, he realized something else too. And he had to tell
Counselor Troi about it right away.

        Troi sat on the floor in her room, the lights turned off.
        She feared another attack of  the compulsion. She didn't know if
she was the victim of a psychic rape or some other phenomena, but she
knew that she must close down all emotion, all contact with other people
until she could tell. As a Betazed, she could go into a meditative state,
shutting down all conscious thought, living within her subconscious until
she felt safe to come back.
        She didn't mean to go so far, though.
        She was losing herself within herself. She knew it, and she was
beginning not to care.
        At first the thought of enjoying the darkness frightened her, but the
fear quickly gave way to the seductions of the dark.
        She didn't know the dark was going to be so comfortable. She had
sought the darkness for safety, but she didn't know it was also going to
offer consolation. She was safe here in this place without boundaries, safe
from the expectations of others. Safe from the uncertainty of the future.
Safe from lovers who used her for their own means and left when the
emotion became too real.
        The numbness was as seductive as a lover. It was pulling her down
into its bosom, enveloping her like some romantic bandit with a flowing
cape, caressing her like a warm bath, soothing her like a mother does a
child.
        She knew she could stay this way forever. She wanted to.
        She didn't hear the chirp at the door. Or the second.
        She didn't hear the door slide forced open, or Data enter.
        "Computer, lights," he ordered. When the room brightened, he saw
Troi sitting on the floor, back in a corner, her head tilted forward.
        "Counselor," he said, rushing over to her. He raised her head
gently, brushing the stringy hair from her eyes.
        She didn't respond.
        "Counselor. Please talk to me."
        Nothing.
        He noticed her breathing was shallow, and he sensed her heartbeat
was down to ten beats a minute. Her eyes were open, but they had not
responded to the stimuli of light.
        "Counselor, please wake up. I need to speak with you."
        He recognized the state. It was the same one her mother had
retreated to rather than face the memories of the loss of her son. He knew
it was a dangerous state.
        "Counselor, I need you," he said, grasping her hands. "Please come
back."
        Deep within herself, she felt Data's compassion calling to her,
cutting through the dark. It had none of the metallic residue of the other
emotions she had felt from him.
        This was pure emotion. Unadulterated. Untouched by insincerity or
deception. It was as honest and as true a feeling as she had ever sensed,
and it called to her now. And she could no more resist it than the other
compulsions and feelings she had felt.
        "Da ... ta?"
        He smiled softly, feeling moisture around his tear ducts. "Yes,
Counselor. It is Data." He released her head.
        She rubbed her eyes. "I felt you."
        "I am glad. What has happened to you?"
        Deanna told him about the compulsive attacks and hallucinations.
He listened intently.
        "Can you tell me when these events occurred?"
        "This morning, after breakfast."
        "And you had one after I left earlier?"
        She nodded.
        "I see. I believe I know why you have been having these attacks."
        "You do?"
        "It is because of me."
        "What?"
        "I believe you are being affected by a subroutine I recently
discovered in my emotional programming that allows for involuntary
emotional responses."
        "But you have had those. I remember you crying ..."
        "That was not the sort of responses I was referring to. These
responses have to do with desire. Such as salivating at the smell of food.
Or a quickened pulse when one is with one loves."
        "So how could this affect me?"
        "The subroutine accomplished this by increasing the intensity of
certain emotions. So being sensitive to the feelings of others, you perceived
my more intense feelings, but could not identify them and was unable to
deal with them as you do others because you are unaccustomed to my
particular type of emotions. You have been having these attacks after you
have spent time with me, have you not?
        She thought, "Yes. But yesterday I woke up having had an attack in
my sleep. How could you have caused that one?"
        "I can only deduce it was because of a dream I had."
        "What sort of dream?"
        He hesitated. "It was a dream about you."
        "A sexual dream."
        "Yes," he answered flatly.
        "And because of how you felt about me in this dream, I felt you all
the way down the hall?"
        "Yes. Even through several walls."
        "I think I see." She was almost disappointed that her problem
would have such a mundane, clinical cause. "You're telling me that you
have discovered lust, and so I was acting on those impulses."
        "No, not entirely."
        "What do you mean?"
        "It was not lust that triggered these impulses."
        He averted his eyes. "I am afraid to go on."
        "Data?"
        And then she sensed it.
        "Data, are you in love with me?"
        He continued to look away. "Yes. I am."
        "For how long?"
        "I do not know. I know that when the Enterprise crashed on
Veridian III, and I sheltered you from the debris, my first instinct was to
protect you. I wanted and needed to know you were safe. Perhaps I have
always had feelings for you but could not identify them until I received the
emotion chip."
        "Data."
        She said it in an uncertain tone. He believed it to be one of
sympathy, and deduced that she did not share his feelings, and was
uncomfortable with his being there, now that she knew it was him who had
triggered the attacks.
        "It was because I realized I was in love with you and desired you
that you began to sense me. I am sorry. I will go now, and you do not have
to worry about having those attacks again."
        He stood to go. He did not want to be here when his heart broke.
        "Data. Stop."
        She slowly got to her feet, then cupped his face with her hands.
"Now that I know where these feelings are coming from, I'm not afraid of
them anymore."
        "You are not?"
        She shook her head. "And there's something else."
        "What is that?"
        She reached up and put her lips against his. She was surprised to
feel a slight layer of static electricity as she kissed him. It tickled.
        After a moment, he returned the kiss, drawing her close to him with
soft firmness.
        She felt him harden against her waist.
        She broke off the kiss. "Do you want to make love to me?"
        He nodded.
        "Tasha told me you were fully functional."
        "She told you of that? I thought she did not want anyone to know."
        "She had to tell somebody. If there is one certainty about human
beings, it is that they must tell someone after they make love."
        "Interesting. I wonder who I will tell."
        She giggled, then unlaced the front of her nightgown. She slid the
garment off her shoulders, and it fell to the ground.
        He looked at her, and felt moisture build up in his mouth. She
looked down at him and saw the swelling in his trousers. "I see the
subroutine is working just fine."
        She stepped behind him and undid the fasteners on his tunic. She
took the garment off and began to caress his chest. "Data, you're as solid as
a rock, yet your skin is so supple,' she said.
        He stepped back. "Is that a problem?"
        She firmly shook her head no. She admired his golden skin. For a
moment, she dreamed she was about to make love to a god, a golden
champion. She then slid her hand down into his pants, cupping his organs.
        "'Data!" she exclaimed. "How big are you?"
        "I stand six-foot-one and weigh ..."
        "No, silly," she explained, laughing, "I mean, how long is your
penis?"
        "Nine inches,'" I replied.
        "Nine?" she said with a tone Data identified as apprehension.
        "Is that too much?"
        "No," she replied, "But it is more than I have ever had before." She
lowered herself to her knees and undid the coupler of his trousers and slid
them down. Dr. Soong had done excellent work, Troi thought. It looked
like a human penis, but there was no hair around its base. She grasped it
gently, feeling the smooth synthetic skin. "How does that feel?"
        "It feels ... pleasurable."
        She was a little disappointed by his reaction. "Is that all?"
        "I am sorry. This is my first sexual experience since receiving my
emotion chip. I am not familiar with the sensations and have difficulty
expressing them."
        She smiled at the thought that, in reality, despite what he had done
with Tasha, this was really his first time. Data was a virgin.
        "Data, don't analyze. Just react." On an impulse, she kissed the tip
of his organ.
        "I like that," he said, instantly.
        She looked up at him, smiling. She leaned forward and kissed the
bare pubic area at the base, then slid her tongue up the length of his penis.
        "I am ... enjoying this." His voice cracked at the last part of the
sentence.
        She stroked his penis again, running her hand over its length a
couple of times, then she pursed her lips and took the head into her mouth.
Again she felt a buzz of electricity, and she enjoyed it. She took just the
head into her mouth, then withdrew.
        "Please do that again."
        "Do what again?"
        "Put my penis in your mouth."
        "Data, it would increase my pleasure if you could use some
different terminology, to add to the atmosphere of the moment."
        "For example?"
        "Tell me to suck your cock."
        "Oh, I see. You wish me to use slang terminology for our organs to
informalize out actions, such as dick, John Thomas, pecker, bishop, salami
..."
        "Data!" She said, trying to sound exasperated but really trying to
keep from laughing.
        He looked at her. "I am sorry. Please suck my cock."
        "That's better." She put her mouth back on his organ, sliding her
tongue around it like a piece of candy.
        Instinctively, he began moving his hips forward. Again, he thought,
a subroutine was kicking in. He reached down and held on to her head.
stroking her hair.
        She tried to take in as much as she could, but she could only put
about half his length into her mouth. She reached around and caressed his
buttocks as she continued sucking.
        Data's breathing increased. His mouth was closed, so he began
uttering moaning noises. He began to move his body as if he were making
love to her mouth.
        "Please do not stop. I am close to orgasm."
        Deanna reached down and began to stroke her vagina as she
continued to swallow him. She moaned around his organ.
        "Mmmm. Yes. Do not stop. I am about to ... YES! OH, FUCK!
YES!"
        She felt his organ expand slightly, then the rush of warm fluid fill
her mouth. She was surprised it tasted like peppermint and had the feel of
syrup.
        She licked her lips to get all of the delicious fluid she could get. 
His
erection did not go away.
        She got to her feet, then kissed him, running her hands across his
back down to his soft buttocks.
        "What was that?"
        "What?"
        "Your screaming. And your orgasm?"
        "I believe the screaming is part of my emotional programming. It
allows me to have profane reactions to extreme situations."
        She remembered his uncharacteristic "Oh, shit!" during the Veridian
III crash.
        "As far as my orgasm goes, I believe my father wanted my sexual
partners to have as pleasant an experience as possible, so he installed a
device to manufacture a pleasant tasting fluid to simulate semen."
        She began kissing his neck. "I never truly appreciated what a genius
your father was until right now."
        Data decided he needed to begin the lovemaking ritual. Quickly, he
picked her up and carried her to her bed, dropping her onto the mattress.
She squealed at his impulsiveness. He then got into bed next to her, and
began to sing.
        "Oh, my love. My darling. I hunger for your ..."
        "Data, what are you doing?"
        "I am quoting ancient Earth poetry. I have decided to utilize the
techniques of fabled 20th century lovers in this session. Beatty. Swayze.
Prince Charles."
        Troi cupped his mouth with her hand. "Oh, no you don't. I want
you to make love to me, not a dozen men."
        "Fifteen."
        She pulled him to her, laughing. "Just do whatever it is you want to
do."
        He nodded, remembering his dream. He kissed her on the lips, then
traced his tongue down to her breasts. He moved his hands to them, giving
then gentle squeezes as he continued to kiss the soft white skin. He nuzzled
the cavity between them with his nose, then moved his lips to take in the
darkened nipple of her left breast.
        "Suck me, Data. Please." She took his head in her hands, roping her
fingers through his hair.
        "As you wish." He spread her puffy outer lips with his hands,
exposing the pinkish interior, open and awaiting his attack. He nuzzled it
first with his nose, taking in the smells as well as the moist warmth of her
body. It was a perfumed smell, intoxicating him. He gave her a soft kiss,
then another, then traced the perimeter of her opening with his lips.
        "You're driving me crazy. Lick me, Data. Please."
        "In time." A sudden though struck him. "Please turn over."
        "What?"
        "Trust me."
        She rolled over on her front. He raised himself up, straddling her
body, his erectness resting in the soft crack of her buttocks.  
        He put his hands on her shoulder blades, and she jumped.
        "Data!" she squealed. "What was that?"
        "A soft magnetic pulse. Observe."
        He moved his hands over her back, keeping up a steady current of
energy moving.
        "Mmmmm," Troi moaned. "That feels so good. I feel as if my
muscles are melting."
        "Good." He moved his hands up and down her spine until he sensed
she was completely relaxed. He then shifted back, raised her hips into the
air, then gently pushed her legs apart. She offered no resistance. He sat on
his knees on the floor next to the bed. He then inserted the index finger of
his right hand inside her.
        "Oh, gods. Oh. That feels good."
        Data then added his middle finger, pumping them in and out of her
vagina.
        "Ooooh, that's right. That's sooo good."
        He put his left hand on her buttock, sliding his finger up and down
the cleft that separated them. He went down as far as her vagina, gathering
up the fluids on his index finger.
        "What are you doing?" she asked.
        "Preparing a surprise." He looked at the soft flesh in his hands, then
worked the finger past the muscular ring of her anus.
        "Ohhhh," Troi moaned as she felt his penetration. "Now I know
why you were softening me up."
        Data worked both hands, alternating between her two openings. In,
out, in out. He held his finger inside her anus now as he continued to
finger-fuck her. He wiggled his finger, sending sensations up her insides,
forcing a moan from her lips.
        Troi grasped at the sheets. She had never felt a sensation like this
before. Never simultaneously. She had thought she would have to teach
Data all about lovemaking, but the pupil was not teaching her a few things.
        Data now coordinated his hands, sliding his hands inside her
simultaneously. She humped back against his hand, trying to draw in as
much of his fingers as she could.
        "Oh, fuck me, Data. Fuck me. Fuck my ass. Harder, harder. Give it
to me. Ooooh!"
        He worked his hands faster, giving her no time to rest between
strokes. She now held still, savoring each movement of his hands, letting
them drive her head into the mattress.
        She was crying now, the pleasure too much for her to take. She felt
her orgasm build. She gave no thought to trying to hold it back. She
screamed at the sensation overtook her, beating her fists on the bed,
shouting, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" at each of his strokes. Then right on top of her
explosion, another. She struggled to catch her breath, now unable to form
words. She felt the world close in on her field of vision. She was passing
out from the pleasure. The orgasm ripped through her, sapping what little
energy she had left. She collapsed onto the bed, totally spent, the bed damp
from her juices and her sweat.
        Data lay next to her. She draped her arm over him.
        "Am I to take it that you enjoyed that?"
        She weakly raised her head to look at him. "Are you joking?"
        "Quite possibly."
        She lightly slapped his cheek, then kissed him, sliding her tongue
past his lips, and finding his tongue playing back at her, pushing it gently
away, then circling around it.
        She broke the kiss. "Where did you learn that?"
        "From Tasha. I hope you do not mind. She instructed me how to
perform that act. She called it 'Attack on Two Fronts.'"
        "I don't care what you call it. Just don't forget how to do it." She
looked down at his still erect organ. "You're still hard."      
        "Yes. I believe I will remain in this state until we consummate our
lovemaking."
        "Oh," she giggled. "Well, how would you like to do it? On top?"
        "I think that would be unwise. My weight precludes the missionary
position. As Tasha said to me, I think you're going to have to drive."
        Troi smiled, then rolled over onto Data, straddling his midriff. She
placed her knees against his body, feeling his penis against her anus, still
tingling from his actions. She raised herself up, guiding the nine-inch organ
toward her opening. Even with his intrusion, even with the generous
amount of fluid her orgasm had produced, she had not loosened up enough
to take it all at once. She slowly slipped the head past her pussy lips,
savoring the feel of the rod sliding past her sensitive clitoris.
        She bobbed up and down, letting her adjust to his length. She still
wasn't sure she would be able to take it all, but she was determined to try.
        She looked down at Data. His mouth was moving, but no sound
was coming out. His gold eyes were concentrating on their union. He was
clearly fascinated by what they were doing.
        She was taking in about half of his organ now, sliding up and down,
savoring the friction of the ridge of his cockhead against her soft insides.
Means began to emerge from her lips.
        Data moved his hands to her hips, guiding her as she began to
quicken her strokes.
        Suddenly, she forced herself down on his cock, feeling it penetrate
areas she had never felt before. She had never felt so full. She sat like that
for a moment, then with the full length inside her, she leaned forward,
pinning his shoulders with her hands.
        "That feels good," Data said, his voice cracking.
        She said nothing, returning to the work of sliding her body up and
down his pole. She began with long, slow strokes, but then she quickened
the pulse. Data matched her actions, withdrawing his organ as she moved
away from him, slamming it back into her as she pushed back.
        She grunted with their movements, each filling of her pussy forcing
a grunt out of her. She felt another orgasm building inside her.
        "I am close to orgasm," Data said, thrusting inside her faster now.
        "Hold on, I want to come with you."
        She moved faster and faster, knowing that it was only a matter of
time before he exploded.
        "I am ready," Data half-shouted.
        "YES! YES!" Deanna screamed, letting her body release a flood of
sensation. She planted her lips on Data's as she screamed her orgasm. Her
sensation was heightened with the warm rush of his orgasm flooding her
insides. She felt as if a river had broken loose inside her, rushing from
between her legs, all over their bodies.
        She felt his organ soften. She massaged it with her vaginal muscles,
extending its withdrawal, until she finally felt it slip from between her 
legs.
        She stay on top of him, resting her head on his shoulder, stroking
her fingernails gently across his midsection. She felt peaceful, basking in
the affection she felt coming from Data.
        This was different than Will, who always felt like he had to outdo
their last encounter. And it was different than Worf and his rough ways.
She realized that this was the first time she had made love on her own
terms, where she did what she wanted and willingly did what her lover
wanted her to do.
        "I've never been so satisfied," she said, tracing the outline of his
nipple with her nail.
        "I am glad you enjoyed our sexual encounter."
        "I don't mean just that. I've never been with a lover like you. I feel
your emotions, and they are the purest I have ever felt. I could become
addicted to them."
        He reached up and stroked her hair, and began to speak softly.

                Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
                Thou art more lovely and more temperate
                Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
                And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
                Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
                And often his cold complexion dimmed,
                And every fair to fair sometime declines,
                By chance of nature's changing course untrimmed;
                But thy eternal summer shall not fade
                Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st
                Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade
                When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
                        So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
                        So long lives this, and gives life to thee.

        She raised herself up to look in his eyes. "That was lovely."
        "It was one of the sonnets I did not understand. I believe that I now
comprehend the author's intent."
        "You do?"
        "Yes. I love you, Deanna."
        She sensed that he truly did.
        "And whatever course our lives take, I will love you always."
        She kissed his lips. "I love you." She looked down at him. "Are you
still considering the post at Oxford?"
        He nodded. "Why?"
        "My ancestors on my father's side came from Oxford. I have always
wanted to go there."
        "You will, Deanna."
        She slid off his body and cuddled up next to him. "Um, Data?"
        "Yes?"
        "Are you a heavy sleeper?"
        "When I choose to be. Why?"
        "Oh, I just thought perhaps in the middle of the night I might be
pounding on your chest, and I didn't want to disturb you."
        "I see. Good night, Deanna. Pleasant dreams."
        "I'm sure they will be."