======== Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Subject: NEW: Forbidden Fruit (TNG, P/Q, NC-17) 1/1 From: ereshkgl@cyberg8t.com (Ruth Gifford) Date: Thu, 13 May 1999 07:34:23 GMT -------- Date: Tue, 11 May 1999 11:40:36 -0700 (PDT) To: ascem@earthlink.net From: ereshkgl@cyberg8t.com (Ruth Gifford) Subject: NEW: Forbidden Fruit (TNG, P/Q, NC-17) 1/1 Title: Forbidden Fruit Authors: Ruth Gifford & Varoneeka Series: TNG Status NEW 1/1 Codes: P/Q Rating: NC-17 Summary: On a lovely tropical island, Jean-Luc Picard eats some fruit with interesting side effects. I'm talking major PWP here. Vee and Ruth were, for various reasons, a little down and wanted to have some smut writing fun. This, thanks to IM, is the result. Our gratitude, as usual, goes out to the Editrix, who deserves a trip to a tropical island for all the help she's given us with this story and others. Picard and Q belong to Paramount; the fruit (BWHAHAHAHAHAHA), the island, and the smut belong to Vee and Ruth. Feedback welcome at: and/or "Forbidden Fruit" by Ruth Gifford and Varoneeka (c) 1999 The sun felt great. He'd been spending too much time in holodecks. He'd forgotten what real sun felt like. Of course, it wasn't Earth's sun. But it was yellow-orange and hot on his skin. The ocean was nice too, although it didn't have that sharp salt smell of home. The sand was clean and fine beneath his toes, and he decided to walk around the entire island. Somewhere, perhaps along the beach, his command crew were enjoying the small, lush island as well. Will and Deanna were picking dates, or something, Data and LaForge were doing some sort of study of the atmosphere's effects on solar radiation, Worf had gone completely native and was currently somewhere on the island's volcanic mountain, exploring the caves and probably hunting something. Beverly had recently taken up weaving and had made them all broad straw hats to celebrate their shoreleave. Jean-Luc laughed aloud at the delicious feeling of the waves playing over his feet, and with a swell of contentment turned and threw the core of the tropical fruit he'd be eating into the sea. The fruit had been perfect, like everything about the island: not too sweet, not too tart, and light enough to make him want a few more. He found another of the fruit trees and picked a couple more of the fist-sized crimson fruits, then wandered back to the beach, spreading out his towel and lying down. His walk around the island was an idea that had no real schedule to it, and the thought of lying here, eating fruit, and then perhaps swimming seemed like a good one at the moment. How long had it been since he'd just indulged an idea because it seemed like fun at the time? "Too damn long, Jean-Luc," he muttered through a mouthful of fruit. Two more cores had been discarded, and Jean-Luc was trying to decide between having a swim and continuing his walk, or just dosing here on the beach for a while. Of course he could doze, swim and then walk. Or he could swim, doze and walk . . . He woke up with a hard-on. He smiled a little; he'd noticed that this sort of thing seemed to happen more when he was on leave than it did on the Enterprise. Shoving thoughts of his job and his ship aside, he stretched, thinking that his shorts seemed a little tight. Once he got them off, he *knew * that his briefs were certainly too tight. They followed the shorts, and for good measure he got rid of his shirt as well. He stretched again, looking down at himself, noticing vaguely that his pale skin looked a little less pale in the warm glow of the sun. Mostly he noticed his erection, which was pressing rather insistently against his stomach. He was warm from sleeping in the sun, but most of the real heat seemed centered on his groin, and without thinking much about it, he slid a hand down his chest and further. The head of his cock was already slick and he wondered if he'd been dreaming; usually it took a little longer for him to reach this state. He abandoned his initial idea of a slow, leisurely session, grasped his cock firmly and began to stroke. He *really* needed to come. And then there was something...a faint trace of a memory of a scent in the air. What was he doing here, pleasuring himself, when there were so many others on this island with him? All of them so loyal, brilliant, and attractive: the cream of Starfleet's crop. The images came: Beverly's white skin, Deanna's round breasts, Riker's appealing height, Worf's strength, Data's doubtless skill, Geordi's easy-going compliance. There were so many possibilities...and if he didn't have one of them soon, he would explode. It felt fantastic to move in the bright sunlight, his body drawing into a crouch, motionless, expectant. His senses had been tuned fire-sharp, and he could hear life nearby, movement. Prey. Moving on sheer instinct, he was deep into the jungle growth in only a few minutes. Before long, he heard voices and froze, listening. "You realize we'll never be able to eat all of these?" Deanna's voice: so lovely, it wrapped around his body and caressed. With a smile, he stroked his cock lightly before approaching. She would feel -- "Sure we will, if we put our minds to it." Riker's voice: an obstacle. Alone, Will could be taken, but with Deanna there, his two officers would protect each other. Picard resumed his crouch. "Besides," the cheerful voice continued, "you've never had these baked with brandy." over "Mmmm," Deanna murmured. "That sounds...Will?" As Jean-Luc watched from behind the trees, Troi put a hand to her head. "What is it?" Riker asked. He turned to look around the jungle, and Jean-Luc found himself staring at the big man hungrily. *This is wrong,* a very small voice in the back of Picard's mind protested. He ignored it. Maybe he could have both of them. "Captain?" Deanna breathed, her eyes widening. Her face colored, and Jean-Luc watched as her nipples pressed against the thin gauze of her shirt. "Something's wrong with the Captain?" Riker snapped. Immediately he was all First Officer and he stared at the counselor, who was breathing heavily. "Deanna! What are you feeling?" "Lust," she replied thickly. "A lot of it, from..." and she turned and pointed to where Picard was crouched. "...right there. "The Captain?" Riker asked over his shoulder, as he headed toward Picard's hiding place. "Yes," Deanna replied, following him. Picard quietly slipped from behind his tree and angled off in a direction that could lead them around the clearing. He could probably lose them easily enough and go and find Beverly. He stifled a moan just thinking about her, those long dancer's legs that went on forever until they met the smooth swell over her hips, and, oh God, that ass... *She has such a wicked smile,* he thought. *Maybe she'll be up for something a little different.* His moment of reflection on Beverly's charms proved to be his undoing. As he took his next step forward, he ran into a wall of solid flesh. Solid, warm, Human flesh that smelled of dates and jungle flowers and sweat. Without thinking about it, but wanting the feel of skin against skin, Jean-Luc ripped at the light-weight shirt that came between himself and his first officer. "Jean-Luc, wait!" Strong hands grabbed his wrists, holding him away from that chest, and the voice was wrong. Picard jerked back and looked up into dark brown eyes. He smiled. Come to think of it, the voice was even better than before. Much better. "Captain Picard?" Deanna's call came from only a few yards away. "Damnit," Q muttered, looking down at the naked captain who was currently eyeing him as though he were Russian caviar served in the navel of an Orion slave girl. He made a decision, and the two of them were on the other side of the island. "Good thinking," Picard growled approvingly, stepping closer to Q's warm body, breathing in the heady smell of him. Q stared back uncertainly, and the man took the opportunity to reach up and lick Q's chin. Yes, the taste of him was salty and strong. Lust rolled over him, and his head darted forward to bite at Q's nipple through the thin khaki material of Q's T-shirt. Q yelped and pushed him away, his hands maintaining their grip on Picard's wrists. "Jean-Luc, please, listen to me. You're drugged...infected, actually. That fruit you ate --" "I want to be inside you, Q. Take off your clothes." "Picard, listen. This isn't you -- I mean, it *is* you, you haven't been possessed or anything -- but you're not acting right. If I hadn't come along you'd have bopped Riker on the head and raped him! Think about that!" Picard smiled as the image came to him: thrusting into Will's nicely sized butt. Then he frowned up at Q. "I'd rather think about what it will be like to have you, Q. I've wanted you for so damned long." "Uh, Jean-Luc..." "Come into my bedroom and loom over me like a specter, taunt me with my girlfriends or my past while I'm in my pajamas or naked? Well, time to put your money where your mouth is, Q." Lightning-fast, Picard's left foot whipped out, hooked behind Q's right knee, and jerked back. Q tried to resist, but they ended up sprawled out over the ground, Q's body half-on Picard's, while the man began to rub his erection over the entity's khaki-covered hip. Q scrambled to get away, but with his hands still clasped around Picard's wrists, he could get no leverage, nor gain much distance between them. Finally he brought up his right leg and wedged it between their bodies, keeping Picard away even though he kept his grip. Picard struggled, then relaxed, smiled, and reached down to kiss Q's bare knee, enjoying the way the safari shorts had ridden up his thigh. All that smooth skin, and the shine of sweat under this hot, alien sun. Q tried, but couldn't move his knee away without giving up his positional advantage. Jean-Luc snickered, then lowered his head again and slowly licked the soft skin at the side of his knee, just where the smooth slope of that long, strong thigh began. Q struggled, and he licked him again. "I know you want me, Q." "Jean-Luc, trust me, under ordinary circumstances, I'd be the first -- but you have no idea what's going on inside your body." "You are *so* wrong, mon ami," Picard said, nibbling at Q's warm skin. "What's going on is simple: I want to fuck you. Of course, if that's not what you want first, *you* could be going on inside my hot body." Under him Q bit off a faint moan, and hoped Picard hadn't heard it. As an omnipotent entity, he was used to getting anything he wanted. In fact, in all his life there had only been one thing he wanted that he hadn't just gotten or taken or grabbed at. And now that one thing, that one person, was on top of Q, trying to get *him,* trying to take *him,* and wanting to grab *him.* Q wanted nothing in the universe but to lie back and let Picard have his way. And he couldn't. "Damn you, Picard," he growled. "You've infected me with your damn conscience." "To hell with a conscience," Picard muttered. He bent his head again and bit harder at Q's thigh, sucking as he did so. Q groaned louder, but managed to hang on to Picard's wrists. To think that Jean-Luc Picard, the stuffy captain of the Enterprise, was sprawled naked on top him, giving him a hickey on his thigh... *Ohhhh,* he thought, *if I stay in this form that mark will show for about a week.* His cock throbbed at the thought, and he involuntarily arched his hips, just a little, hoping, even as he did so, that Picard wouldn't notice. Teeth bit into his thigh and he gasped a little. The captain must have noticed. He was on the verge of pulling Picard up or off him or just snapping his fingers and fixing the man's body chemistry without permission, when Picard raised his head and looked Q in the eyes. "Tell me you don't want me," Jean-Luc crooned, his voice a melody of hunger, desire and lust. "I..." Q began and then paused, trapped by his own decision never to lie outright to this man. "Off with the clothes, Q!" Picard snapped, his command voice a little huskier than usual. "All of them." He'd moved, even as he spoke, and now Q looked down in shock as Jean-Luc rubbed his scalp along the bulge at Q's groin. "I should have known you'd like it complicated," Jean-Luc murmured, smiling. He loved challenges and Q was much more of a challenge than any of his staff would have been. "I don't mind playing games now and then; you just keep hanging onto my wrists." And then, to demonstrate that he didn't need his hands, his mouth moved until it came in contact with the button of Q's shorts. After a few seconds of determined effort, he got the button undone and then had the tab of Q's zipper between his teeth. Q spoke at warp speed. "Jean-Luc, I know it's a violation to alter your body without your consent, but you're not of sound mind, and I can't figure out which one you'll hate me more for doing, and I couldn't stand it if you hated me again and -- OHH!" Jean-Luc's mouth had pulled the zipper down, and now lips and tongue and careful teeth were caressing Q's hot bulge, dampening the white cotton stretched over his cock. In sheer panic, Q released Picard's wrists and shoved him away, pale flesh burning his hands even in that second of contact. Q scrambled backwards, and would have made it to a stance if his opened shorts hadn't caught on a root and tugged the material down. His legs tangled together and he ended up sprawled on his back. Q hadn't even finished grunting when Picard was there, holding him down with that delicious weight and heat. "Jean --" The rest was gulped down by a hungry mouth, devoured along with most of the rest of Q's control. How many times had he dreamed Q-dreams of this? Q had warned him this Human would be his undoing. Q put up his hands, trying to push away, but the flesh he met was Picard's strongly sculpted chest. Picard's lips left his, nibbling at his chin, his cheeks, his nose. "God, Q. I've dreamed of this. Wanted it for so long..." Q actually screamed. Busy hands at his hips were pushing his underwear away, then, reaching up, they ripped off his shirt. Q thought then that there was literally nothing in the universe he wouldn't do or give or create to have this moment be sincere, to have Picard actually want him. But no, Q managed to think, though the words in his mind were jumbled together. He had to stop this. Picard would have to forgive him for using his powers to stop the infection from the fruit. Picard's mouth reached his chest, and that hot, rasping tongue lapped at the valley between his pectoral muscles, moaning with pleasure at the taste and feel. Q grabbed at his powers and made the necessary...made the...what was it? Strong hands had returned to his hips, then slid down to his thighs, pushing them apart. Q whimpered and again reached with his mind for the correct computations. They were so complicated, and everything seemed to be turning bright and hot. Fingers slid along his cock, and then a light touch at his anus was accompanied by a sinister snicker from the man on top of him. Picard's tongue licked a straight line from Q's chest to his ear, where the man growled and whispered, "I'm going to take you so hard, Q, you'll never sneer at Human weakness again." Shocked slightly out of his daze, Q rallied, trying to ignore how much he wanted everything Picard had described, everything Picard's body was preparing for, and made it half-way through the correct mental processes to cure the man. Then warm lips clamped on his nipple as a slick finger slid inside him, and Q's mind seemed to explode. When Q's legs spread even wider and his hips thrust up, Jean-Luc felt the heat that had smoldered inside him since he'd woken on the beach burst into flame. He was right: Q wanted him! He moved his finger slightly, angling it properly, and reveled in the sound of Q's full-throated groan. Q *was* Human in every way right now, and a finger moving over his prostate was enough to conquer any second thoughts the entity was having. Just to make sure, Jean-Luc did it again, and then again, while Q moaned and thrashed on the ground beneath him. He then slid another finger inside Q, trying to ease the way for himself as well as give Q an idea of what Human pleasure was all about. He stroked Q's cock for good measure, watching as those dark eyes fluttered and closed, a dreamy expression settling over Q's expressive features. Oh yes, Q was relaxing nicely now, moving with the combined stimulus and gasping for air. This was going to be good, so good, Jean-Luc thought. In a moment or two he'd be buried inside the incredible maelstrom of energy and heat that moved so passionately beneath him. He'd sheathe his aching cock in that tight ass and fuck Q until the entity passed out and then woke to find Jean-Luc still fucking him. Q couldn't pull himself together at all. Every part of him was caught up in the feeling of a strong hand on his cock, and the exciting burn of Jean-Luc's fingers (three now) in his ass. There was only one tiny bit of Q knowledge or power that remained to him, and he used it, hoping it would bring back memories of the other things he could do. His efforts were rewarded with that oddly sinister, and yet thrilling laugh from Jean-Luc. "I *knew* you wanted it," the captain said, his voice filled with triumph. He slid his fingers in and out of Q a few more times, no longer worrying about how he was going to lubricate both of them. Then, with a final hard push into Q' ass -- which was met with an eager thrust from the entity -- he pulled his fingers out and shifted into position. Grabbing Q's legs, he shoved them back against the broad chest and then moved his cock carefully to the entrance of Q's slick opening. "Q," he said, his words almost dreamy, "I'm going to fuck you now." And he did, slowly sliding into that tight, delicious heat and watching as Q's eyes rolled back and his teeth caught at his bottom lip. When he had finally sunk all the way inside the fire that matched his own inner blaze, he paused and bent his head to claim Q's mouth again. His hard kiss was eagerly returned, and he chuckled as he pulled his lips away. "And I think you're going to like it." With those words, he pulled back and thrust in again, while Q's legs clamped hard around him and the entity shouted. It was better than he'd thought it would be: strong and hard and hot and fierce and yet even now not cruel, not selfish. Picard's thrusts had a rhythm designed to bring them both pleasure. He reached for Jean-Luc's hips and urged his motions on, spreading his legs wider, wanting and wanting even as his desires were met so absolutely. His back was being scraped along the uneven ground, the air was hot and thick, and some damn insect was buzzing near his ear. He didn't care. The silk and satin pillows and perfect feather beds and seductive lighting of his fantasies might have been nice, but they couldn't have made this feel better. This felt as good as anything possibly could -- better, in fact, than anything had in so long it were as though he had rediscovered the concept of pleasure itself. He was moaning now, and he let his eyes rake over the body pounding inside his own. Picard's muscles and sinews rippled and jutted under that tight, shiny skin, the slight softening of his many years somehow only making the strength and grace more impressive, more beautiful. The strong lines of his flanks and the power of his shoulders -- the feel of power under Q's hands as they slid along Picard's back -- Q was being fucked by a machine, a train, a tiger, a hero and a conqueror, and thinking about that just made his moans turn into howls. Hazel eyes captured his gaze, burning him with triumph and lust and possessiveness. "Come for me, Q. Come while I'm fucking you, without even a touch to your gorgeous cock. Come for me." Q screamed as the brightness in his mind flared, pushing himself up to meet each thrust, wanting to do whatever Picard wanted, because it was what he wanted. To come while impaled on Picard's cock -- who wouldn't want it? "Come for me, damnit." But the curse was only insistence, not impatience, not anger. "I want to see you. Come for me, lover." Q's whole body and entire consciousness didn't become consumed by the brightness, they simply burned with a brightness of their own, drowning out everything, exploding almost into pain, somehow knowing how to stop while still in bliss. Hot cum splattered across his chest, a few drops reaching his neck and chin. If he weren't so long-waisted, they would have made it to his face, like rain, like a blessing, like... In the sea of not knowing, Q swam, Q floated, while pleasure continued. He forgot why he felt so good. He didn't care. Feeling like this was so much more than enough, it was laughable. In fact, he did laugh, trying to remember why his back was getting a little sore. "I knew you'd look like that," a voice growled. "You've wanted this as much as I have, showing up in my life...invading my space...whispering and tempting me like the siren you are." Q struggled a little to get the universe back into focus. A man's face was looking down into his, bobbing in an insistent rhythm. His hazel eyes and strong lips were shining with smug triumph. "The next time...I tell you to...take off your clothes...Q...I expect you to...bend over before I change my mind!" The damn computation didn't seem quite so complicated now. Q even managed to snap his fingers. Only it didn't work. In spite of the pleasure that was still surging through him with each of Jean-Luc's strong, hard thrusts, Q felt a moment of complete fear. He'd removed the effects of that damn fruit, and Jean-Luc was still fucking him. Oh yes, still fucking him and fucking him and fucking him...Q was growing hard again as Picard continued to pound so deeply inside. He despised himself a little, then. To want this, *need* this singing pleasure while above him the Human he'd tormented for all that time gloated was too much. He gathered his powers again, fighting the pull of his Human body's hunger, and prepared to leave. And then, once more, he opened his eyes and looked up at Jean-Luc. Picard didn't quite know what had happened. He'd eaten some fruit, dozed on the beach, and then his memory was a little cloudy. He'd been looking for someone, or something, for some reason and now... Now, his cock was buried in perfection and his body roared with pleasure and he looked down to meet Q's eyes. Q?! Yes, that was it, he was fucking Q, and Q had already come all over himself and Jean-Luc had seen it. "Beautiful," he murmured, slowing his pace somewhat in order to speak more easily. "Jean-Luc?" Q gasped out. "When you came, it was beautiful." He looked at the long body beneath him, feeling those strong legs wrapped around him. "I don't know how this happened Q, but...Oh God, I'm fucking you!" He couldn't help his pace's quickening after that, and he was stunned that Q met him thrust for thrust. "I'm fucking you...and it's so good...mon dieu...hope I can be this good for you..." Q's fear was gone; his uncertainties were gone; all the loneliness he'd carried with him all his life was gone, all burned away in the hot hazel blaze of love and gratitude that stared into his eyes. "You better be," he growled, just because it was the sort of thing Jean-Luc would expect from him. And then his body took over and spoke for him: "Harder, please, Jean-Luc. Fuck me hard like you were before." "Yes, oh God, yes!" Jean-Luc wasn't sure how this had happened, nor did he have a clue how he managed to keep from coming until Q came, but he did, and they were, and it was all real, and when he collapsed onto Q's body, strong arms caught him and held him close. *** The Captain of the Enterprise sighed as he rubbed his hand over his scalp and then massaged his aching neck. Here in the turbolift with no one watching, he could admit fatigue. "Diplomats," he muttered, quickly shutting up as the lift stopped and the doors opened It wouldn't do to have any of the crew seeing him talking to himself. He straightened his back and walked easily to his quarters, not letting a hint of his tiredness or his worry show. Once inside his rooms, however, his shoulders slumped and he thought about just taking a shower and going to bed without eating. And then he saw it, sitting on his dining room table, spotlighted from above: One crimson globe of fruit on a small gold plate. Every ounce of fatigue, both mental and physical, drained away, and he picked the fruit up, tossed it in the air, and caught it several times as he walked to the bedroom. Q was sprawled naked on the bed. "I can't remember," Picard said to his lover, as his own cock began to harden. "Is it your turn or mine?" Q smiled. "We haven't tried *this* yet," he replied, tossing something in the air and catching it. Picard's eyes followed the fruit as it fell back into Q's palm. It matched the globe in his hand. "I can't imagine why," he murmured, as they each simultaneously took a bite. The End -- *************************************************** * Ruth | Visit GiffStein Productions * * Gifford | http://www.cyberg8t.com/ereshkgl/ * *-------------------------------------------------* * Better living thru TrekSmut--See for Yourself! * * http://come.to/treksmut/ * *************************************************** "I always carry floss." Julia Houston