Archive of Our Own

“First Officer’s personal log, April sixteenth, twenty-one fifty-two. Today marks one year since Klaang was shot in Broken Bow, Montana. A further three days will see a celebration marking the first full year since this vessel was launched from the Sol system. I had never anticipated that Enterprise might come to feel like a home to me, nor that the crew would become those with whom I prefer to spend my time. Despite our many differences, I have come to respect this particular group of Humans, and believe they now also respect me. Captain Archer and Commander Tucker in particular have made significant effort to change their perspectives of Vulcans generally and myself specifically. While initially they saw an adversary and unwanted imposition from the High Command, I have been assured that they now consider me a friend. I may need to rely upon that friendship in the weeks to come. I will however ‘cross that bridge when I come to it’, as the Human expression is conveyed.”

“First Officer’s personal log, April twentieth, twenty-one fifty-two. The anniversary celebration extended well into the evening, and many of the crew required relief from headaches and nausea this morning. I am aware that such outcomes are not uncommon following major celebrations on Earth, though I find the especially erratic behaviour of the crew rather taxing. Commander Tucker refrained from further consumption of alcohol after the initial glass, maintaining that ‘no engineer worth his salt gets drunk on his own starship’. Evidently there was some concern that a malfunction would occur with timing of such precision that Commander Tucker would be ill-equipped to handle the situation. No such crisis occurred, and he asserted that his sobriety had ‘tipped the scales in his favour’. I remain unconvinced that correlation relates in any way to causation in this instance, though I appreciate his sense of responsibility all the same. Captain Archer, by contrast, was among those who required analgesia and anti-emetic medication. Perhaps he requires additional vacation time in order to sufficiently ‘unwind’.”

“First Officer’s personal log, April twenty-fourth, twenty-one fifty-two. I have begun to feel the initial effects of pon farr, and am faced with a quandary which concerns me quite deeply. While the lack of another Vulcan aboard might to others seem the most pressing concern for a compulsory mating drive, I am uncertain that it would be safe to do so even if one were available. The bond forged during mating leaves potential for infecting another Vulcan with Pa’nar Syndrome - a condition I have no desire to share. Returning to my homeworld or seeking out a Vulcan ship is therefore an illogical course of action, not only due to the inconvenience it would cause to the crew of Enterprise. A failure to mate would result in my death, and a single Human typically bears only one third the strength and approximately half the stamina of a Vulcan. I have therefore determined that I will require the assistance of two Human men.”

“You’re quiet tonight,” Trip observed at dinner the following evening. “Even more than usual for you. Everything alright?”
“There is a matter of some import that I must discuss with you both. I am uncertain where to begin,” T’Pol replied softly, appearing hesitant.
Jon shared a glance with Trip, then looked back at T’Pol. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, T’Pol. Take your time.”
Nodding, Trip gave a gentle smile. “Might as well get it out in the open, whatever it is.”
“It is something quite personal. I would appreciate your discretion in this matter,” T’Pol said, her voice still low.
“Of course,” Jon said seriously.
With another nod, Trip shrugged. “Sure. I know how to keep a secret.”
Clearly uncomfortable, T’Pol asked, “have either of you heard of pon farr?”
“Ah… I’ve heard a little,” Trip said uncertainly. “Kov explained that the Vulcan libido only kicks in once every seven years - though at the time he specified Vulcan men, so I wasn’t sure if that meant it was different for women, or he was just tellin’ me how he was different to me.”
“That is correct,” T’Pol said, clearly surprised that Trip knew as much as he did. “Pon farr is the Vulcan urge to mate, and it is a phase which we all experience on a seven yearly cycle by Earth reckoning, from the time we reach adulthood.”
Letting out a slow breath, Jon said, “I’m not as familiar as Trip. What else should we know about this ‘pon farr’?”
Slowly gaining confidence as they proved their willingness to listen, T’Pol said, “a neurochemical imbalance develops over the course of several days, which eventually causes a loss of emotional control. Plak-tow is the most serious stage of pon farr. Roughly translated, it means ‘blood fever’ in English. A Vulcan in plak-tow becomes oblivious to anything unrelated to winning one’s mate, and may become violent if provoked. We may also cease eating and sleeping if unable to return to Vulcan and take a mate. Finally, if that need remains unmet, the neurochemical imbalance becomes fatal. I am presently experiencing the early symptoms of pon farr, and have not yet reached plak-tow.”

“Whoa, I thought we had it bad at times!” Trip exclaimed. His tone changing, he continued with a frown. “Hang on a second, you don’t expect us to turn around and take you to Vulcan so you can find a mate, do you? ‘Cause there ain’t any Vulcan ships in this sector so far as I know.”
“No, Commander, I do not expect Enterprise to reverse course,” T’Pol said softly.
His frown deepening, Trip said, “well then what are you gonna do, just let the neurochemical imbalance kill you, and leave us without a science officer? That ain’t any more fair on us than turning ‘round!”
Rolling his eyes at Trip’s dramatics, Jon said, “I suspect that might be why she’s telling us this, Trip. T’Pol probably has some idea of would get her back to normal without it impacting the rest of the crew.”
“You are correct, Captain - I believe I know what should return my hormone levels to normal, while minimising the number of crew affected in the process,” T’Pol replied.
“Minimising the number of crew affected,” Trip repeated incredulously. “Obviously someone is gonna be affected, and my guess is it’s gonna be me and the cap’n, since we’re the ones hearin’ that you’re in pon farr.”
Sighing heavily, T’Pol said, “Commander, might I suggest you calm yourself and allow me to explain?”
Settling himself back into his seat, Trip nodded. “Okay, explain your idea… but it better be a good one.”
“Trip, that’s enough,” Jon said, giving a shake of his head. “This can’t be easy for her.”
“Indeed not, Captain,” T’Pol said, giving an appreciative look. “The primary difficulty I face - aside from the lack of Vulcans in the sector - is that Human men have neither the strength nor the stamina of the average Vulcan.” Holding up a placating hand, she continued, “before you interrupt, Commander, that is not intended as an insult. It is estimated that a healthy Vulcan has three times the strength of the average Human, along with significantly better stamina. This includes during mating - or so I have been informed.”

Unable to contain himself, Trip frowned as he said, “so what you’re saying is that nobody on Enterprise is man enough for you. If that’s the case, why are you telling us this?”
Uncomfortable once more, T’Pol looked between both men before focussing on Trip. “One Human man would be insufficient, but two…”
“You’re suggesting a threesome?!” Trip said incredulously.
“If that is the term you prefer to use, then yes,” T’Pol said with a nod. “The French may refer to it as a ‘ménage à trois’ I believe. That somehow sounds less vulgar, though semantics are unimportant. The simple fact - according to the information I was given before departing Earth - is that neither you, nor any other man on this ship, would be likely to survive the duration of an encounter with a Vulcan in pon farr. I do not know from personal experience.”
Beginning to smile, Trip said, “so what you’re saying is that - so you don’t die - you wanna mate with both me and the cap’n. Either at the same time or one after the other, I guess. Y’know, this is getting interesting! I gotta ask though - why us?”
Sighing quietly, T’Pol said, “I wondered when that question might be asked. To clarify, it would be one then the other rather than both of you at the same time. In answer to your question, I selected you because we each share a degree of trust that would be required for such a scenario.”

“I think I can safely speak for the both of us when I say that we don’t want you to die,” Jon said carefully, “but are you certain this is the only viable solution? I know you probably wouldn’t suggest it otherwise, but are you sure about this?”
“I have considered what few options there are, and this is by far the most reasonable toward the crew, as well as the most practical under the circumstances,” T’Pol said quietly.
“So when exactly will you need us to do this?” Trip asked, sounding almost excited. “You said your pon farr has already started, yeah?”
Nodding, T’Pol said, “I am experiencing the early stages as we speak. I will need to mate within the week, ideally within two days - before the neurochemical imbalance reaches its peak.”
Suddenly delighted by the prospect, Trip grinned. “Well how about right now? Ain’t no time like the present!”
“Don’t jump the gun, Trip,” Jon said, shaking his head. “We don’t know what it’s going to involve yet.”
“From what I understand,” T’Pol said carefully, “it should be much the same for you as mating with a Human woman - you would simply need to switch over at some point.”
Leaning in eagerly, Trip barraged T’Pol with rapid-fire questions. “So who’s gonna go first and who’s gonna go second? Whose quarters are we gonna use? When are we gonna do it?”
Brow arched high, T’Pol said, “for a man who found the entire prospect so objectionable only a short time ago, you seem rather eager now, Commander. I would recommend my quarters, as it is neutral territory for the both of you. The optimal timing would be tomorrow evening, after dinner. As for which of you shall assist me first, I will leave that for the two of you to decide. I suggest that you both get a good night’s rest, and do not over-exert yourselves tomorrow. Good evening.”

“Have you reached a decision regarding which of you will assist me first?” T’Pol asked as they finished dinner the following evening.
“Uh, yeah, we flipped a coin for it,” Trip said, sounding disappointed. “The captain goes first, I’m second.”
Jon nodded, then gave Trip a rueful smile. “Probably for the best. You’ve always been better with late nights than I am.”
With a chuckle, Trip shook his head. “Sure, Cap’n. You need your beauty rest, but I’m cute enough already.”
“Aesthetics aside, I am pleased you reached a mutually agreeable decision,” T’Pol said quietly.
“Right, so you said it’s much the same as we’re used to, but is there anything really different we should be aware of?” Trip asked.
Shaking her head fractionally, T’Pol said, “other than my complexion, I do not believe so.”
Frowning slightly in confusion, Jon repeated, “your complexion?”
“Ah, I think she’s saying her nethers have a green tinge due to the copper in her blood, Cap’n,” Trip said smugly. “Y’know, rather than being some shade of pink or peach or brown.”
“You surmise correctly,” T’Pol said, the tips of her ears flushing slightly. “Having never mated with a Human before I cannot be certain that there will not be other differences, though there are none that I am presently aware of.”
Letting out a slow breath, Jon said, “for the sake of clear consent before we get to your quarters, what exactly do you need us to do? We Humans have quite a lot of options, given we don’t typically wait seven years between such interactions.”
Arching a brow curiously, T’Pol said, “I will require your penis to enter what I will - for the sake of simplicity - refer to as my vagina. Only Ensign Sato would be likely to pronounce the Vulcan term correctly.”
“And we just… do what we’d usually do while it’s in there?” Jon asked, flushing scarlet.
“Correct,” T’Pol confirmed. “Maintain a steady motion until ejaculation is achieved.”
Openly curious, Trip asked, “do you have a preferred position?”
Frowning slightly, T’Pol said, “I have never had need for such a preference.”
“No problem,” Trip said with a grin. “Just means we can try our favourites and see how you like them.”
“I have no doubt that they will be equally satisfactory,” T’Pol said with a slight shrug. “Shall we proceed?”
Looking determined, Jon nodded. “Let’s get this dealt with. We can’t afford to lose you to something as simple as a neurochemical imbalance.”

In T’Pol’s quarters, Jon glanced around for a moment then said, “obviously I’ll need to take my boots, jumpsuit and underwear off, but would you rather I keep my shirt on, or be entirely naked?”
“I have no preference either way,” T’Pol said simply as she began to undress. “You may choose whichever is more comfortable for you, though I would prefer you make that decision swiftly.”
“Right… okay,” Jon said, sitting at the foot of the bed to remove his boots.
With his jumpsuit draped over the chair by T’Pol’s desk, and his underwear folded neatly on top, Jon turned to find T’Pol entirely nude and cleared his throat. “Uh…”
Giving Jon’s groin an appraising glance, T’Pol stepped closer and took his cock in hand. “I am going to need you much firmer than this, Captain.”
“Uh huh,” Jon murmured, his eyes drifting closed as her hand began to move, trying not to think about how much he liked the mention of his rank in the present context, and what that might signify.
“This will be satisfactory,” T’Pol said a short time later, releasing him and moving to stand by the bed. “Do you have a preferred position?”
Jon shrugged, trying not to look directly at T’Pol. “We could stick with the basics, I guess? If you want to lay down on your back.”
Immediately doing so, T’Pol looked at him expectantly. “Proceed, Captain.”
“Right…” Jon said vaguely, then retrieved a condom from a pocket of his uniform, unwrapped it, applied it, and moved to the bed.
“Captain, now!” T’Pol demanded.

Again trying not to think about the way his cock jumped as T’Pol used his rank, Jon knelt between her thighs, allowed her to guide him within herself, and then placed his hands to either side of her head before closing his eyes and starting to move. If he didn’t look, she could so easily be Human. If he didn’t look, he might not have the image of her obvious and desperate need seared into his brain. If he didn’t look, he could pretend he wasn’t fucking his First Officer… even if it was medicinally rather than recreationally.
T’Pol, for her part, allowed herself to feel. The fabric of the captain’s shirt felt mildly irritating against her nipples as he moved. The coarse hair on his legs was also irritating against the soft skin of her inner thighs. The firmness of his cock felt adequate within her - he was suitably endowed for a man of his height and species, though not especially remarkable. The harsh sounds of his breathing as he accelerated the pace of his thrusts indicated a need for more frequent cardiovascular exercise, and T’Pol made a mental note to mention this to Doctor Phlox. Clutching wildly at his thighs, hips, back, shoulders, and face, she spurred him on further, growling “harder!” and “faster!” as she did so.

Almost collapsing on top of T’Pol on completion, Jon rolled off the bed and staggered to the bathroom on wobbly legs. After disposing of the condom and using the amenities, he returned to the main room of her quarters - T’Pol slipping past him as he did so. Pulling on his underwear but not his jumpsuit, he sat on the bed and waited for her return.
“You should hydrate,” T’Pol said, handing him a glass of water.
“Thanks,” Jon said, glancing away as he drank.
Frowning slightly, T’Pol asked, “Captain, is something amiss?”
Chuckling quietly, Jon said, “I just had sex with my science officer. It’s not exactly something I had on my to-do list.”
“Will you be able to continue?” T’Pol asked, sounding concerned.
“Continue?” Jon asked, glancing quickly at T’Pol then away again. “You need more from me before Trip takes over?”
Nodding despite his gaze being averted, T’Pol said, “yes, Captain. Perhaps I should have been clearer regarding the intensity of my need.”
Jon looked at T’Pol out of the corner of his eye. “You might have to be on top if we go for a second round. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“That will be acceptable,” T’Pol said with another nod. “My own age is no hindrance to such a task.”

After twenty minutes of rest, T’Pol began to grow impatient. “Will you be ready for another session soon, Captain?”
Cock twitching at the sound of his rank in her voice, Jon sighed. “Soon.”
“Then might I suggest you remove your underwear,” T’Pol said firmly, clearly brooking no argument.
“Sure…” Jon said, standing to push them down over his hips once more. “Want to give me a hand again?”
Sighing impatiently, T’Pol took him in hand, brought him to firmness, retrieved a condom, applied it, then gestured to the bed. “If you will lay down, we may begin.”
Laying down, Jon didn’t close his eyes quickly enough to avoid seeing T’Pol move over him - her breasts in full view reminding him of when they were pressed to his face during a failed attempt at escaping captivity on Coridan, though they had both been fully clothed that day.
With her hands on the mattress to either side of his head, T’Pol set a more rapid pace - her focus this time on achieving release rather than broader sensation.

Upon completion Jon once again made use of the bathroom, and T’Pol moved to the comms panel at her desk.
“T’Pol to Commander Tucker,” she said crisply, sounding utterly unfazed.
“Tucker here. You ready for me, T’Pol?” came Trip’s voice a moment later.
Nodding to the captain as he returned and began to dress, T’Pol said, “a fifteen minute delay may be prudent, but then yes, thank you Commander.”
Chuckling quietly, Trip said, “sure thing, T’Pol. See you soon.”

Fetching a satin robe of soft blueish-grey, T’Pol wrapped it around herself and tied the belt at her waist. “Your assistance is appreciated, Captain.”
“Uh… I’m not sure ‘my pleasure’ is quite the right response under the circumstances, but you’re certainly welcome,” Jon said, blushing furiously.
“I shall see you at the morning briefing,” T’Pol said as he tied his laces.
Nodding dazedly, Jon said, “bright and early. Good luck with… the rest of this.”
Inclining her head slightly, T’Pol said, “rest well, Captain.”

Almost twenty minutes later, the door chime rang and T’Pol called, “come.”
Chuckling as the door closed behind him, Trip said, “oh, I intend to, but not just yet.”
“Very amusing, Commander,” T’Pol deadpanned. “Please undress.”
“Yes ma’am,” Trip smirked as he began to do so, draping his clothing over the chair and tucking his boots neatly under the desk. “Anything extra I should know before we get started?”
Nodding, T’Pol said, “there is one detail that I neglected to mention earlier which caught the captain by surprise.”
Curious, Trip asked, “oh? What’s that?”
“I will require multiple ‘rounds’, to borrow his term for it,” T’Pol said plainly.
“Oh!” Trip chuckled. “Well I figured that when you said you’d wear one man out beyond survivablity.”
Arching a brow, T’Pol asked, “you are prepared for such an eventuality?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Trip said, “yeah, sure. I’ll need a little break in between, but I imagine you would too, right?”
“Not particularly,” T’Pol said, her tone slightly smug.
“Oh, so you can just go and go and go… interesting!” Trip said with a grin. “You gonna take that robe off before we start, or are you planning on keeping it on for the duration?”
Untying the belt, T’Pol slipped the robe from her shoulders and hung it from a hook attached to the bulkhead. “I am ready.”
Nodding, Trip look a strip of condoms from a pocket of his uniform and tossed them on the bedside table. “I looked up Vulcan reproductive anatomy, so I know you’re self-lubricating like Human women, but there was no mention of any equivalent to the clitoris or g-spot. Do you just not have them, or are they not worth mentioning in a medical text?”
“I do not know,” T’Pol said, frowning slightly. “Pleasure is not a concern for mating between Vulcans.”
“Oh… well, do you mind if I try to figure it out?” Trip asked. “I am an explorer, after all.”
Brow arched, T’Pol said, “you may make the attempt if you wish, Commander. We must begin.”

Moving to lay on her back, T’Pol looked at Trip expectantly.
“I know it’s your bed, but budge over would you?” Trip chuckled.
“Why do I need to move aside?” T’Pol asked, becoming frustrated.
Sighing, Trip said, “so I can lay beside you and start exploring. I’m not gonna just get on top and start thrusting, geez.”
Looking at Trip curiously, T’Pol moved to one side. “Begin your explorations, Commander.”
“Y’know, if we’re doing this, I’d feel a whole lot more comfortable if you’d call me ‘Trip’, rather than ‘Commander’ the whole time,” Trip said as he lay beside her.
“Captain Archer had no objections to my calling him ‘Captain’ as I usually would,” T’Pol said, a slight crease between her brows.
Smirking as he slipped two fingers gently between her thighs, Trip said, “yeah well, for him it’s all about not losing a good officer, and maintaining professionalism despite the unusual circumstances, y’know? For me though… yeah the highest priority is making sure the neurochemical imbalance doesn’t kill you, but I’m also hoping we can both enjoy ourselves at least a bit. And I’m not really into the whole power dynamic thing, as far as the bedroom goes. We’re equals, so I’d rather we use each other’s names, unless you object real strongly for some reason. Is that alright?”
With a slight nod T’Pol said, “very well… Trip.”

“Now that’s more like it,” Trip said, grinning. “And that medical text sure wasn’t lying when it said you’re self-lubricating. Damn you’re wet.”
“Is that a positive or a negative observation?” T’Pol asked.
Adding a third finger, Trip murmured, “oh, definitely a positive.” Shifting further down the bed, he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked.
T’Pol gasped, clutching at his shoulders. “Trip, I need you now.”
“Just gimme thirty seconds to put a condom on and then you can have me any way you want,” Trip said, moving swiftly back up the bed.
“Your prophylactic device is unnecessary. The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that Human-Vulcan conception is impossible,” T’Pol said impatiently.
Shaking his head as he tore open the packet, Trip said, “they said the same thing about time travel, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t take their word for it. Having been on the receiving end of an unexpected pregnancy, I don’t want to be the cause of one - just gimme another ten seconds, or you can forget all about it and find someone else to help.”
Watching his every movement, T’Pol began a countdown. “Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four…”
“Alright, alright, I’m ready,” Trip said, chuckling. “On your knees and elbows for me, if you don’t mind.”
“How is this position effective?” T’Pol asked as she complied.
Shifting into place behind her, Trip said, “if you do have a g-spot and it’s in a similar position to Humans, I should hopefully be able to reach it from this angle.”

“Damn, you’re slippery,” Trip murmured as he guided himself within, then grinned when T’Pol looked over her shoulder at him, and added, “still a good thing, don’t worry. If anything, I’m impressed.”
“You should use that slickness to best advantage,” T’Pol said, sounding increasingly impatient.
With his hands at her hips, Trip asked, “you want it hard and fast?”
Groaning with need, T’Pol nodded. “Yes, Comm- Trip.”
“Alright then, hold onto your proverbial horses,” Trip chuckled, quickly increasing the pace and force of his thrusts.
T’Pol noted that although the hair on his legs was a mild irritant against her thighs as the captain’s had been, the limited contact elsewhere was a significant improvement. She additionally noted that Commander Tucker - Trip - had required no stimulation on her part, and the greater length and girth within filled her pleasantly. Furthermore, though he grunted quietly with effort, his breathing had not become at all laboured despite his exertions. Overall her third round was a substantial improvement upon rounds one and two.
When Trip reached his climax he slowed to a stop and let out a quiet chuckle. “Well, that was sure something…” he said softly. “You mind if I use your bathroom, or did you want to go first?”
“Please, go ahead,” T’Pol replied, pleasantly surprised that he’d asked before departing.
After taking her own moment to tidy up, T’Pol once again brought a glass of water with her, offering it to Trip. “You should hydrate.”
“Oh, cheers,” Trip said with a grin as he clinked his glass gently against her own.
“To what are we toasting?” T’Pol enquired, one brow arched.
Grinning again, Trip said, “to gettin’ you through pon farr, and havin’ some fun while we do.”

Glass drained, Trip looked T’Pol up and down. “Mind if I do some more exploring while we wait for junior to revive?”
Curious, T’Pol asked, “what exploration do you have in mind?”
“Well, Hoshi’s tongue is talented at languages. Mine is better at… other things,” Trip said smugly. “And we haven’t answered the question of your ability to really enjoy stimulation yet. So unless you’d rather I didn’t, I could use my mouth to maybe resolve that quandary.”
“Is that not unsanitary?” T’Pol asked.
Shrugging, Trip said, “uh… it probably is a little, but I could use some antibacterial mouthwash if that’d make you more comfortable. It’s not like either of us has any sexually transmitted diseases or oral hygiene problems to worry about - Phlox makes sure of that. And I know you washed between me and the captain, because you smell like soap, not sweat.”
Surprised by the observation, T’Pol said, “you can smell my soap?”
“Only faintly, but it’s nice,” Trip said. “Now, are you okay with me exploring with my mouth, or would you rather I use my hands? You know I’m good with those.”
“You may proceed however you wish,” T’Pol said, again surprised by his consideration.
With another grin, Trip said, “alright, do me a favour and sit on the edge of the bed. You mind if I borrow one of these cushions for my knees?”
Gesturing, T’Pol nodded. “Please.”
“Alright - lean back a little, prop yourself with your arms, and spread your legs nice and wide for me,” Trip instructed, tossing the meditation cushion between her feet before kneeling.

Gently parting her labia with his thumbs, Trip looked carefully before glancing up. “This is probably a weird compliment to pay, but you’re a real pretty shade of green down here.”
Blinking in obvious surprise, T’Pol murmured, “I appreciate the compliment, though I had no choice in the colouration.”
“Well obviously,” Trip grinned. “But unless I’m much mistaken, I think I’ve found what I’m looking for. Let me know how this feels, alright? I want feedback.”
“Very well,” T’Pol said curiously.
Licking forwards from her entrance several times, Trip lapped slowly at the continued flow of internal lubrication, then licked his lips and looked up. “You’re tasty. How am I doing so far?”
Shrugging slightly, T’Pol said, “it is not unpleasant, but I do not know what result you are expecting.”
“I bet you’ll recognise it if you feel it,” Trip grinned.
Resuming the long slow licks, he gradually began to focus more on the forward point - its shape familiar enough despite the differences in anatomy. Changing the pattern from forward and back to side-to-side and then circling, he then sucked carefully, and T’Pol moaned.
“I suspect that I may have felt the sensation you are attempting to achieve,” T’Pol said, her voice low.
“I suspect you did too,” Trip chuckled before continuing his labours.
Shifting slightly so that his forearms rested on her thighs and hands curled around her hips, Trip alternated between sucking and flicking his tongue, smiling to himself as it became increasingly obvious that T’Pol was enjoying what he was doing - tensing her abdominal muscles to keep herself upright as she moved her hands to his hair. Her moans grew in volume and duration until they became one unbroken but fluctuating note, the pitch increasing until she shrieked at the top of her voice - “TRIP!!!”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood, Trip grinned. “Jury’s still out on the g-spot, but I think that answers the question of a Vulcan clit in the affirmative.”
“It would seem so,” T’Pol panted, looking up at him as she trailed a finger along the underside of his cock. “Do you also appreciate oral stimulation of your genitalia?”
“I do, but that’s not the priority right now,” Trip said, glancing down to watch as she continued the slow motion of her hand.
Frowning slightly, T’Pol said, “I was under the impression that you wished for us to both enjoy ourselves.”
With a low chuckle, Trip said, “T’Pol, I may be the first man to ever make a Vulcan woman climax. If you think I didn’t enjoy that, well… you’d be sorely mistaken.”
“I see,” T’Pol said thoughtfully. “The achievement is also pleasurable for you?”
“Are you kiddin’?” Trip asked incredulously. “I’m having a great time. Now… you up for another round, since junior seems keen?”
Reaching across to the bedside table, T’Pol fetched a condom and applied it, her gaze focussed on the task at hand before glancing up. “What position do you suggest we try next?”
Looking thoughtful, Trip said, “well, given you’ve definitely got a clit and it’s more or less in the same position as for Humans, it’s probably a safe bet that if you have a g-spot it’s on the anterior wall not the posterior one. Might be just a question of finding the right angle and doggy-style ain’t it. Maybe try with you on top and I can save my energy a bit for a third go later if we don’t find it this time.”
“You will have sufficient stamina for a third attempt?” T’Pol enquired dubiously.
“Might need a slightly longer break in between, but there’s still plenty of exploring left to do to pass the time,” Trip said with a shrug. “Now… how do you want me?”
Assessing thoughtfully, T’Pol said, “seated on the bed with your back to the bulkhead. You may prop the pillow behind you if you prefer.”

Nodding slowly, Trip did as she’d asked. “Sitting up is different. With a little luck we might get a better angle.”
“And if not, you will be able to reach my clitoris with ease,” T’Pol retorted as she moved onto the bed - straddling Trip’s thighs with her back to his chest.
“That I will,” Trip said, smirking. “You want me to stroke it for you?”
Sighing as she lowered herself onto his length, T’Pol shook her head. “Not immediately. Let us attempt the other discovery first.”
His voice low beside her ear, Trip said, “you let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will be certain to,” T’Pol said as she began to rise and fall.
Smoothing his hands up and down her thighs, Trip groaned quietly when she began to accelerate.
“Are you well, Trip?” she asked, sounding concerned.
“Yeah, I’m swell, T’Pol,” he said with a chuckle, gently squeezing her thighs. “Are you doing alright?”
Moving his hands from her legs to her breasts, T’Pol nodded. “Very well. Please touch me here. Your mouth caused a pleasant sensation earlier.”
Fondling both breasts gently, Trip asked, “like this?”
“You are the relative expert on such matters,” T’Pol replied quietly. “You may do as experience and intuition suggest.”
“Well, I like the sound of ‘relative expert’,” Trip said with a smirk, grazing her nipples with his thumbs, stroking slowly back and forth. “Don’t forget to give me feedback though.”
A soft moan escaped her, and T’Pol murmured, “perhaps more?”
Pinching lightly between index finger and thumb, Trip asked, “is this better?”
“Yes,” T’Pol moaned as she continued to rise and fall. “More!”
“You want me to pinch harder, or tug a little?” Trip asked, somewhat surprised by the request.
Moaning again, T’Pol nodded. “Yes.”
Trying not to laugh, Trip murmured, “I’ll take that to mean, ‘both’.”

Thrusting slightly as T’Pol continued to ride him, Trip changed the pressure and movement of his hands so that she began to moan more loudly. Groaning as he climaxed for the second time of the evening, he held her close as her momentum slowed, shifting the angle of her body a fraction to rest the back of her head against his shoulder.
“You alright?” Trip asked softly.
“I am well,” T’Pol murmured. “I shall use the bathroom first this time.”
Nodding, Trip said, “go for it. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

After having made his own visit to the bathroom, Trip refilled both glasses with water and handed one to T’Pol. “We should both hydrate.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, sipping slowly.
“You’re welcome,” Trip said, sitting beside her on the bed. “How are we doing with the whole pon farr thing?”
Giving him a sideling glance, T’Pol said, “making significant progress.”
Chuckling, Trip said, “well that’s good news. You reckon we found your g-spot that time, or was it the nipples that sent you over the edge?”
“I am uncertain,” T’Pol said quietly. “Perhaps a combination of the two sensations?”
“Could be,” Trip shrugged. “You want to see what else feels good?”
Draining her glass, T’Pol nodded. “What experiment do you suggest we attempt next?”
Arching a brow in a fair imitation of the woman beside him, Trip said, “how about your ears?” As she began to protest, he raised his free hand. “I know, they’re sensitive. That’s why I want to try it. They’re an erogenous zone for a lot of Humans - stands to reason they might be for you as well. If they’re too sensitive and you don’t like it we can just do something else - but at least then you’d know.”
“Very well,” T’Pol said, “you may make the attempt. I shall provide feedback.”
“Mmmm, you’re learning,” Trip murmured, taking the empty glass from her unprotesting hand and putting them both safely on the desk.

Returning to the bed, Trip sat beside her once more - watching her facial expressions as he trailed his index finger slowly up and down the shell of one ear. When her eyes drifted closed with a sigh, he smiled. “So far so good?”
Nodding only fractionally, T’Pol said, “it feels far more pleasant than I had anticipated, yes.”
“You alright with me using my mouth as well?” Trip asked.
“You may proceed,” T’Pol sighed, gasping as Trip took the pointed tip between his lips.
Sucking gently, Trip heard what he now recognised as the soft sounds of T’Pol’s pleasure, and sucked again. Kissing from tip to lobe, he sucked once more, then took it gently between his teeth and tugged.
Moaning, T’Pol reached blindly for his hand, guiding it between her thighs when she found it “Trip, please.”
“Please what, T’Pol?” Trip teased lightly, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. “What would you like me to do?”
With her hand against his, she moved his index and middle fingers so that they curled in to touch her clit. “Touch me.”
Sucking on her ear, Trip coordinated the motion of his fingers so that they moved in synchronicity, and T’Pol moaned more loudly.
When she whimpered, “ear… too much!” he stopped, guiding her to lay down. Shifting his own position, he kept his fingers moving as his mouth moved to a nipple, sucking firmly.
“Aaaaaah!” T’Pol cried, her thighs clenching around the hand between them to hold it in place as she rode the duration of her high.

“Feeling better now?” Trip asked when her legs relaxed and released him, shaking his hand and flexing his fingers several times.
“Are you certain that you have the capacity for a third round?” she asked, looking at him seriously.
With a slight shrug he replied, “I won’t lie to you, I’m starting to get a little weary - I had a pretty full day in engineering before we got started - but yeah, as long as we set a gentler pace this time, I reckon I’ve got enough juice in the tank for one more go.”
Nodding, T’Pol said, “that should suffice - I believe I am approaching satiety.”
“‘Approaching satiety'… that’s a good expression. A lot more elegant than ‘feeling thoroughly fucked’, that’s for sure,” Trip chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.
“A crude but accurate summation,” T’Pol agreed. “Can we achieve that final goal now?”
Giving the bedside table a significant look, Trip said, “condom first, satiety second - I’m not fathering any pointy-eared grandkids for my parents to dote on just because you’re feeling impatient.”

Carefully tearing the packaging open, T’Pol rolled the condom on with surprising finesse given her obvious need, then looked at Trip expectantly. “Which position is best suited to a gentler pace?”
“Maybe on our sides?” Trip suggested. “It’s a little more intimate, but at this point…”
“We have already shared significant intimacy,” T’Pol concluded. “Proceed.”
Laying with his back towards the bulkhead, Trip pulled T’Pol close beside him - her back to his chest and abdomen. “You might need to shift a little so I can… never mind…” he murmured as T’Pol guided him within herself.
Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “would you attempt the same as earlier with the other ear, and pinch my nipples?”
“Words at the very bottom of any list I ever expected to hear from your lips,” Trip chuckled. “But sure, I can do that if you’d like.”

Laying bonelessly together on completion, Trip continued to hold T’Pol close as he caught his breath. “Feeling good now?” he murmured.
With a nod, T’Pol let out a quiet giggle. “Feeling very good. Entirely sated.”
“Did you just laugh?!” Trip asked incredulously.
“Perhaps,” T’Pol replied. “A loss of emotional regulation is common during pon farr, especially during plak-tow. It would seem that I entered that stage during our final round.”
Sounding worried, Trip said, “but we quenched the fire right? No more blood fever?”
Looking over her shoulder again, T’Pol said, “though we have ‘quenched the fire’ as you say, the emotional dysregulation may continue for several hours.”
“Oh! So this is when I should whip out my best jokes to see if you find them funny?” Trip teased.
“You may test my amusement, if you wish,” T’Pol said quietly. “I believe your efforts have earned such a reward.”
Sucking gently on her earlobe, Trip said, “can I suggest a different reward?”
Brow arched as she rolled over, T’Pol replied, “what reward would you request?”
“How about taking a shower together, and then calling a steward for something to eat and drink,” Trip suggested. “A little late-night snack might help you with the emotional control.”
“You wish to spend more time with me?” T’Pol asked, clearly surprised. “You would not prefer to return to your own quarters?”
Shrugging, Trip said, “sure, why wouldn’t I? I’ve never been the type to leave right after sex anyway. It ain’t gentlemanly.”

Finally rising, they made their way to the bathroom together this time - Trip disposing of the condom while T’Pol ran the water.
“Is this temperature comfortable for you?” she asked after testing the flow with her own arm.
“A little warmer than I usually have it, but not unbearably so,” Trip said after a moment.
Looking Trip up and down with a greedy look in her eyes as she stepped into the shower, T’Pol said, “then by all means, join me.”
Brows raised as he stepped in carefully, Trip said, “you sure you’re sated? You look like you want to swallow me whole.”
“Another of the lingering after-effects,” T’Pol murmured, pressing herself against Trip. “I will be well.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were drunk,” Trip said gently as he collected a handful of shower gel from the dispenser on the wall and began to lather it over T’Pol’s arms.
Nodding with a smile on her face, T’Pol said, “the hormone rush can have that effect, yes.”

Carefully washing his saliva from her ears, Trip said, “can I ask something that would be far too prying under normal circumstances?”
With another smile and nod, T’Pol said, “you may ask.”
“You seemed surprised that I wanted to make it enjoyable for both of us. Did Captain Archer not do that?”
“He did not,” T’Pol said with a little shake of her head. “He did what was necessary, nothing more.”
Frowning slightly as he washed between her thighs, Trip said, “you mean… actually, what do you mean by that?”
Shrugging nonchalantly, T’Pol said, “we mated much as I would with a Vulcan.”
“Which is how, exactly?” Trip asked curiously, looking up as he bent to wash her legs.
“According to my limited research into Human sexuality, I believe the first position was called Missionary. In the second instance I was on top, though the positions of our bodies were much the same,” T’Pol explained, seeming entirely unbothered by the line of questioning.
With another slight frown as he straightened, Trip said, “so Missionary and Reverse Missionary. And he didn’t touch you anywhere, other than bein’ inside you?”
T’Pol looked at Trip curiously as she answered. “No. Do you believe that he should have done so?”
“Uh, yeah. T’Pol, that’s like… I don’t know… the sex equivalent of unseasoned boiled chicken - technically filling, but sure as hell not enjoyable,” Trip said, shaking his head in disbelief as he quickly washed himself.
“I was not aware of how much enjoyment could be had,” T’Pol said simply, her eyes wide.
Smiling, Trip shut off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it carefully around T’Pol before grabbing a second for himself. “But now you are?”
Returning the smile with a soft one of her own, T’Pol nodded. “Indeed so. I appreciate your efforts in rectifying that error.”
“You’re very welcome. There’s plenty more I could teach you if you’re ever interested,” Trip replied, gently guiding her out of the bathroom.
“I shall keep that in mind,” T’Pol said quietly, allowing Trip to towel her dry. “Perhaps in another seven years, if you are willing and available.”

After helping T’Pol into her pyjamas and changing the blanket on the bed, Trip pulled on his uniform, excluding the boots. “Food and drink?”
“Yes please,” T’Pol said, still seeming somewhat dazed.
“Commander Tucker to the galley,” he said after pressing the button on the comms panel.
A moment later the response came, “galley, Crewman Taylor here sir.”
Smiling at T’Pol, Trip said, “Crewman, I have a favour to ask.”
“Certainly sir,” Taylor replied. “How can I help?”
“Is there still some apple pie in the cabinet?” Trip enquired.
Sounding uncertain, the steward answered, “I believe so, sir. I could check if you’d like.”
Nodding to himself, Trip said, “if there is, could you bring two slices along with a bowl of vanilla ice-cream and a bowl of plain yoghurt to Sub-Commander T’Pol’s quarters? She’s not feeling her best and I think that’d help. If there’s no pie then bring whatever fresh fruit looks good, and some chocolate chip cookies instead.”
“Sure thing, sir,” Crewman Taylor said. “You want me to bring some of the sparkling water Sub-Commander T’Pol likes? Or some tea, maybe? I heard mint is supposed to be good if you’re unwell, and I know she likes that.”
“Mint tea and some fizzy water would be great,” Trip said, watching in amazement as T’Pol smiled at the ongoing conversation. “And maybe a hot cocoa for me if it’s not too much trouble. I’m keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t need to go to sickbay.”
The smile obvious in their tone, Taylor said, “that’s no trouble at all, sir. Give me five minutes or so.”
Shaking his head at T’Pol’s excited expression, Trip said, “thanks a bunch. See you in a bit.”

With apple pie, ice-cream, and cocoa for Trip, apple pie, plain yoghurt, and mint tea for T’Pol, and a large carafe of carbonated water with two fresh glasses, the pair settled in for their almost-midnight snack.
“You know, T’Pol,” Trip said thoughtfully after finishing his dessert, “it might be a good idea to have an actual plan in place before your next pon farr. More than a few days in advance, you know?”
“What sort of plan would you recommend?” T’Pol asked curiously between sips of tea.
Shrugging, Trip said, “well for one, if you choose a person well in advance they could do some strength and stamina training beforehand. You could also acquire some accessories so you only need one person, not two.”
Frowning in confusion, T’Pol asked, “what accessories would make that an achievable goal?”
“Sex toys,” Trip said with a smile. “Dildos, especially. Then you don’t have to worry about erections taking time to return.”
“Are there dildos similar in shape to yourself?” T’Pol asked curiously.
Smirking slightly, Trip said, “I’ve never checked, but there’s a lot of variety, so it’s certainly possible. And I think there are kits for making your own - using a real penis to make the mould for it.”
With a dreamy look on her face, T’Pol said, “I like that idea. Let’s do that.”
“Alright miss drunk-on-hormones, time for you to brush your teeth and get some sleep, I think,” Trip chuckled, tidying the dishes onto the tray before guiding her to the bathroom.
With clean teeth, Trip tucked T’Pol into bed, smoothing her hair before laying a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Smiling up at him, T’Pol sighed. “I must thank you for all of your assistance this evening, Trip. You have gone well above and beyond even my greatest expectations.”
“Goodnight, T’Pol,” Trip murmured softly. “I hope you feel better in the morning.”

“Okay, what’s up with you three?” Hoshi asked the following day on the bridge. “T’Pol, you’re positively glowing, while the captain and Trip look like they’ve gone a few rounds. What on Earth happened last night?”
“It’s more like what happened on Vulcan last night,” Jon murmured.
Glaring at Trip as though daring him to say something especially revealing, T’Pol let out a quiet sigh when he said, “we helped T’Pol with something, and it was a little more taxing than either of us anticipated. Let’s just leave it at that, yeah?”
Jon nodded, glancing nervously at T’Pol. “Well said, Trip.”
“Captain, Commander, you may wish to take a look at this,” T’Pol said a few minutes later, glancing up from her viewer as she put the image onscreen. “There’s a Vulcan ship approaching to port.”
“Well ain’t that an interesting sense of timing,” Trip muttered, sighing as he looked between T’Pol and Jon. “Typical…”