The Coming Doomsday update (Patreon)
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T’Pol threw her head back and wailed, coming so hard that it gushed from between her legs like a tap had been twisted open, and Kon could only be dragged along for the ride by such a powerful orgasm. He wrapped his arms around her, held her close, one hand landing on a supple breast and feeling her heart go a mile a minute like a machine in overdrive. When he spurted, it was like he was leaving part of his body inside T’Pol, hers for all time.
T'Pol kept screaming, shaking with an orgasm stronger than any she’d experienced that night, and then her body stiffened and her cry trailed off like a fading echo. He felt her heartbeat pound against his hand like it was trying to get out, then it slowed. Almost imperceptibly, the next beat came softer than the last.
T’Pol whimpered. Her body sagged. Her heartbeat continued to slow and she gulped in air.
Then she twisted around and slapped Kon in the face. “I DIDN’T TELL YOU TO STOP, YOU ILLOGICAL FAGGOT! FOR THE LOVE OF SURAK, FUCK ME FOR REAL! JUST PICK A HOLE ALREADY AND FUCK!”
Kon didn’t hear her. Starting at his shoulders, his wiry, athletic body was swelling into that of a bodybuilder’s. His clear skin coarsened and turned gray. Tiny spikes pressed through his skin at random intervals, some of them pricking T’Pol. She winced, but didn’t care that the thorns drew blood. As if to show her determination, she wrapped her legs around Kon, crushing her thighs to the needling pain.
“YOU THINK I CARE IF IT HURTS!? I ONLY CARE ABOUT THAT COCK! I ONLY CARE THAT YOU—”
She broke off in a sputtering gasp of pleasure.
The gray swelling of Kon’s body had reached his loins.
Her contorted face broke into a smile and T’Pol let her head drift back in something like relaxation: “Ffffinally…”
The bed broke with Kon’s first thrust.
***
Seven returned from her regeneration cycle thinking she’d find T’Pol and Kon asleep, possibly T’Pol having grown impatient—the end of her pon-farr leaving her nothing to do but wait for Seven to recharge. But T’Pol wasn’t there when Seven woke, so she went to the bedroom.
She heard a sound when she turned down the hall leading to the room. Seven stopped, putting her hand to the wall, and unable to stop a tremor from running through her as she remembered what it had been like with T’Pol. Could Kon really still be dealing with… all of that?
The bed was thumping—that had to be the noise so powerful it went through the soundproof walls. Sound-resistant walls, Seven amended herself.
Now checking her usual fast pace to carefully sneak to the bedroom door, Seven prepared herself for what she would see and hear. It might be she would have to rescue Kon from T’Pol’s… excesses. She tapped at the door controls and it slid open, letting out a hoarse voice:
“OHH! OHHHHH! T’HY’LA! MY T’HY’LA!”
Seven looked inside. The lights were on, illuminating the spectacle on the bed in all its glory.
Kon’s prick was fully hardened still, despite old cum clinging to it like melted candlewax. T’Pol had her hand wrapped around the thick, throbbing flesh. She was upside down on Kon’s muscular body, licking his hotly swollen member while he licked noisily at the junction of her fleecy thighs. Her back arched and her proud breasts quivered jubilantly as T’Pol licked her lips before bringing their wetness down around Kon’s manhood. He was still licking her; her delighted moans muted by having stuffed so much of him down her throat.
Seven felt faint. They’d been doing this for her entire regeneration cycle? She couldn’t imagine how much pleasure—how many orgasms—the sheer eroticism that had happened in this room. She leaned against the doorframe, her womanhood throbbing, her heart going a mile a minute.
She knew she was hidden in the darkness of the corridor, separated from the animalistic rutting happening before her. She was voyeur, not participant. Scientist, not subject. And yet she remembered how it had been with T’Pol; wondered what it was like for her with Kon.
Surely, what Seven had felt could only be a fraction of what T’Pol was enjoying now. With their bodies so evenly matched, their civilized veneers stripped away, the carnal beasts in them having learned everything about the other’s sensuality… this could only be the apex of the sex act. The greatest amount of pleasure that could be physically produced.
Perfection, as the Borg would have it. It called to Seven, tempted her. How could her collective of one go without absorbing this singular experience, this… yardstick from which to measure all forms of sexuality?
“MMMMM!” T’Pol hummed, her lips getting louder while they slid up and down Kon’s erection.
He jerked spasmodically with the Vulcan tending to his potent endowment, bringing it to its fullest length. As T’Pol’s mouth rode up the shaft and her lips momentarily disconnected from the tip, T’Pol jerked an eyebrow up in shock. Kon’s prick was bigger than she remembered—over ten inches long, thick and perfectly proportioned with a tip like a church bell. It looked like it was made for one purpose only: to create women who could only be satisfied by Kon-El.
T’Pol turned now, keeping Kon on his back. He let her hold him down, waiting with literally bated breath while she straddled him, coming down on his member as her fingernails scratched at his broad chest.
Kon took hold of his own erection, holding it up to fit between the piquant halves of T’Pol’s soaking cunt. Seven heard the slippery joining of their bodies, T’Pol’s gasp when he fit to her once again. He had to be completely filling her, taking up all the space her sheath provided and a little more.
Seven felt a little squirt at her own sex—a droplet of arousal clearing her moistening womanhood. Her breath was coming rapidly, her nipples stingingly hard, tingling like her Borg implants during a storm. As if lightning might hit her at any moment.
“It’s not logical for you to be doing this,” she muttered under her breath. “You don’t know if you can even survive this course of action.” But despite her censure, she didn’t turn away from what T’Pol did next.
“So much t’hy’la…” T’Pol murmured happily, her curvaceous ass wiggling as she rubbed the soft heat of her sheath against all the throbbing hardness now within it.
Kon growled, bared his teeth, his hips coming off the floor to force another inch into T’Pol’s barely accepting cunt. Seven could see the stretched folds, the flaring redness all impaled on his huge shaft, the huge balls that jostled with his movements.
Kon’s powerful body quaked as he felt more and more of T’Pol’s tightness embracing him. She was undulating in slow waves now, her head thrown back, eyes tearing up. Seven tried to imagine what she was feeling and knew there was no way, she had no reference point. She couldn’t even wonder at the experience T’Pol was going through. Her clit panged, though, wishing for even a fumbling hint at what such rapture was like.
“It is… inefficient,” Seven whispered, as if her voice was weak, “to gather data but not… fully investigate… take advantage of an phenomenon… as rare as an astrological event…”
Now T’Pol’s hips flowed up and down. Her beautiful body arched sharply, then trembled while she gorged herself on all of Kon’s prick. The sound of their union was sloppier, more urgent. She lowered her breasts to his face and Kon snapped his teeth at them, to T’Pol’s gratified moans, while his hips lunged up to get in her more deeply.
The shock of being rutted so deliciously actually made T’Pol laugh. She dug her nails into Kon’s thick pecs and seesawed her body—he only grew more aroused to see her jiggle so. T’Pol’s wetness ran in glistening rivers, wetting Kon’s coarse pubic hair, darkening it. The man lurched and keened, barely able to stand the pressure of her sucking cunt but certainly unable to bear being parted from it.
Seven watched, wide-eyed now, as T’Pol tightened her inner muscles, suckling at Kon’s member with her very sex. Nearly all of his towering phallus was in her body now and from the way T’Pol bounded up and down, she wanted nothing more than to be impaled on all of it, every last inch.
“OHH! OHHHH! YOU BEAUTIFUL FUCKER! AHH, KON! FUCK ME, T’HY’LA, FUCK ME!
Grunting with exertion, Kon hugged his willing victim with arms so tensed that veins stood out from the bulging muscles. T’Pol flattened herself to his massive chest and embraced him in turn. Her ass bounced and quivered; she sat in his lap, taking his fucking, so willingly offered to his pumping cock she could be on all fours with her ass in the air.