Title: Harry's Halloween Dance Date
Part: NEW 1/1
Codes: K/7; P/K
Summary: It's Halloween on Voyager and Harry and his shapely date in a silver body suit, four inch heels, dance on the holodeck at the Halloween party. Then they go to Harry's quarters, and then they . . . A PWP fantasy.
Disclaimer: The body suit, Sandrine's, the Ensign and the Lieutenant (sigh), and everything, belong to Paramount. The story is mine. Copyright 1998.
Warning: Explicit male-male sex, a little prop, a little light discipline. If male-male relationships and sex bother you, please read elsewhere. If you are under 18, don't even think about reading it. An R version (without the sex) may appear on my web site if I can figure out how to do it!
Please Archive at ASCEM; BLTS; PKSP. Please leave all disclaimers and warnings intact.
Harry's Halloween Dance Date
Sandrine's had been decorated for the old U.S. tradition of Halloween with orange pumpkins, white ghosts, cemetery headstones, a corrugated metal tank with apples in it, and lots of orange and black crepe paper hanging everywhere. Dancing, talking, and drinking groups, couples, and singles filled the dimly lit bar as the band played a slow one.
Harry held her in his arms as they danced across the holodeck floor. Her skin tight suit felt smooth beneath the hand that rested on her waist. Her blue, blue eyes were locked with his, a faintly puzzled look to her expression. Her dancing was awkward, as if unaccustomed to moving in four inch fuck-me heels to the music that floated in the room. Despite this every now and again loss of rhythm, Harry kept to the beat. Jutting breasts crushed against his chest as Harry pulled her closer to him and rested his head at home against her shoulder. In her silver suit and blond hair and his formal, black tuxedo and black hair, they were an attractive couple on the dance floor, repeatedly catching the eye of other crew as their dancing brought them into view.
When the music's tempo increased, Harry and his tall, shapely date moved over to a table, Harry's hand lightly at her back, guiding her to a darkened corner. She appeared to wobble slightly on her heels and her gait seemed to hitch as if somewhat uncomfortable walking in this situation. Solicitously, Harry held her chair while she carefully lowered her tall, slender frame on to it.
"Would like you anything?" Harry asked almost in her ear so as to be heard over the noise of the band and the crowd.
"I wish to leave this place," she told him, "Now."
"Let's stay a few more dances, it's good practice."
A baleful gaze met his dark eyes. "I am not enjoying this practice," she told him firmly.
Harry smiled at her. "I'll get us some drinks," he offered cheerfully, leaning over her chest to deliver his message. A silk mane of black hair fell into his face. When he swept it back with his fingers, his eyes caught movement not far away. There were other crew approaching their table, a petite woman with dark hair in a Peter Pan outfit and a short fireplug of a man whose usual appearance was costume enough.
"Incoming," Harry murmured. "B'Elanna and Neelix."
His date placed her head on the table, then looked up at Harry. "Ensign, it is time to leave. I wish to go to your quarters," her husky voice announced.
Harry didn't need to be asked twice, well, actually, he had been informed twice that his date wanted out of here. It seemed that he finally caught on, grabbed her hand, helped her to her feet, and plotted their getaway.
"Harry! Seven!" Neelix called out, but his cheerful expression changed to disappointment as Seven seemed to be almost dragging Harry out the door, moving swiftly, albeit less than gracefully, in her hurry to leave. When they disappeared out of the doors of Sandrine's, Neelix turned to B'Elanna. "Well. What do you make of that?"
"Hot date?" B'Elanna guessed. "Maybe they'll both get lucky."
Neelix felt bothered, "Is it my imagination, or did Seven seem taller?"
With a superior snort, B'Elanna commented, "Did you see those heels?"
With that twosome gone, B'Elanna searched the bar for other familiar faces. Her eyes landed on the Captain and Chakotay dancing to even the fast ones. She smiled as she watched their very coordinated movements dance to a body language all their own. Somehow, she hadn't gotten that same impression when she'd seen Harry and Seven and she wondered what was going on. Well, Harry was her friend, she'd pry it out of him in the morning. She kind of hoped that there would actually be something to pry out of the ensign. Based on Harry's reports so far, there was nothing to tell.
Harry and his date reached the safety of Harry's room. Once inside the doors, Harry turned on her with a throaty growl and backed her against the wall with his body. His hands reached up to her face and pulled her down for a kiss, a long intense, thorough kiss. When he finally pulled back for air, he saw her face flush with desire, her eyes glint feverishly through half closed lids.
"Hmm," she muttered, "let me get out of these shoes."
She kicked off first one heel and then the other, losing four inches in the process. Harry was kind of glad to have her more at her real height, it was easier to kiss her mouth that way. He moved back in for more and she obliged, opening her mouth to play dueling tongues with Harry. In the meantime, Harry's hands roamed down from her head to her chest and he massaged her breasts through her outfit. She moaned into his mouth and he pressed his erection against her body, grinding in rhythm to a slow dance beat.
Her fingers peeled away his tuxedo jacket and, once he pulled his arms away from her, they both let the jacket fall off his arms onto the floor. She worked her slender fingers on his cummerbund and on the pearl buttons to his shirt, as each item followed the tuxedo jacket.
Harry moved to reciprocate and puzzled over how to peel the body suit off of her. She wiggled impatiently and then placed her long fingers on top of his, guiding him to the hidden zippers at the back, along the sides. As Harry tugged the suit off her shoulders and down her arms, the outfit fell away to reveal a slender torso with almost no breasts at all. When the suit was free of her upper body, she used one hand to sweep a blond wig off her head, tossed it and ran a hand through the short sandy hair now freed from its prison. As Harry continued to pull the suit down below her hips and removed a cod piece, an erect penis sprang free. Kneeling now, Harry kissed its tip, and completed the process of undressing his partner, as Tom began to complain.
"Harry, this is the last time I do something like this."
He shut up when Harry's mouth engulfed his cock and sucked on it as if bobbing for apples on the holodeck. Groans of pleasure came from the mouth of Harry's date. Totally free of the body suit, Tom leaned against the wall and allowed Harry to have his way with him. Amidst more groans and sighs of pleasure and only now muted complaints about what he did for his partner, Tom reveled in the attention that Harry lavished on him. If Harry's hands hadn't firmly gripped his hips he would have slumped to the floor as his legs seemed to turn to quivering leola root. Tom let his own hands fall to either side of Harry's head, only appearing to guide Harry's ministrations. Harry's mouth moved fully and autonomously over the heated anatomy of his date. With a scream, Tom came, spurting hot cum into his lover's mouth. Harry licked and swallowed and tongued a slow trail of wetness from Tom's crotch to his mouth.
Tom wasn't sure how they managed to make it to the bed, he was only dimly aware of Harry's hand leading him somewhere, of the hot feeling in his ass, savoring the surprise he had for Harry.
Harry pushed him onto his stomach on the bed and Tom managed to find the energy to move his ass in a proven effort to draw his lover in.
Harry shucked his shoes, trousers, and shorts, and kneeled between Tom's legs, using his own knees to push Tom's legs further apart. He wet his fingers and began to smooth them over Tom's buttocks as if nesting there. Then he murmured in surprise. "Ah, what have we here?"
Harry pushed at Tom's crack and felt the other man buck beneath his probing fingers. He worked at Tom's anus and gave a satisfied grunt when he partway pulled out a small, shaped cylinder. He played with it for a few moments, pushing and pulling it in and out, turning Tom in to a blubbering incoherent bed partner. "So, Tom, no wonder you were walking funny. It wasn't just the shoes, was it?" He took pity on Tom's writhing body and slowly, slowly withdrew the two inch plug. He placed the hot object on the bedside table, took a moment to slick up his fingers with the nearby lubricant, and murmured his appreciation at the outcome of Tom's inventiveness.
He also warned Tom of the consequences of keeping such important information to himself. Consequences could wait for a moment. To Harry's eye, it looked as if the butt plug had opened up his partner nicely, the peach anus was dilated and fluttered as he watched. A fist full of Harry's fingers plunged into that inviting opening and Tom's groans escalated as his pleasure and frustration increased. "Now," Tom begged.
Harry pulled out his hand and patted Tom's butt, then swatted him hard. "You are so naughty, Tom, so ba-a-d." He smacked the wriggling backside again and pressed his knees once more against the inside of Tom's legs, forcing them further apart. All the while he applied the flat of his hand to Tom's bottom, reiterating with each swat just how naughty his date had been. Tom sobbed and begged for Harry's penetration.
With Tom's butt turning a bright red, his ass dancing in need in front of Harry's eyes, Harry deemed he'd tortured his partner long enough. He slicked up his own painfully hard cock and pressed it against Tom's welcoming opening. Then he dropped down, launching his cock on a free fall inside his lover as he pounded into the slender body beneath him. The heat off of Tom's backside fueled Harry's thrusts, stoking his own internal fires. Harry let go of any remaining restraint and took them both on a ride to ecstacy and beyond, filling his partner with all the rocking cock he could take.
Tom had gotten hard again, and Harry reached under them to stroke his partner. At the same time, Harry pumped furiously into Tom's ass. Harry screamed Tom's name, Tom cried out Harry's name as they came. Harry collapsed his sweat slicked chest against Tom's equally dripping back.
When the world returned from wherever it goes during orgasm, Harry nuzzled his lover's twice shaved chin. "You were great," he told Tom.
"Hmm," was about all the response he got from Tom as Harry rolled him unresistingly over on to his back. "Mmm, ouch," Tom protested half-heartedly, for along with the satisfied afterglow he felt from all that Harry had done, his bottom and rectum were both sore, and his feet hurt besides.
Just a small price to pay to feel so wonderful, so loved.
"I hope you lose a bet more often," Harry confided in a sultry voice. "You were so good as Seven."
Sleepy blue eyes felt as if they were melting in the chocolate fondue of his lover's dark eyes. Tom acknowledged the compliment, after all it had been accompanied by a warm kiss. "I surprised you, didn't I?"
"Well, you can't walk or dance worth shit in high heels, but you do a nice butt plug."
"Liked that, did you?" came the satisfied reply.
"It was . . . " Harry tried to retrieve a word from the declining functioning of his brain, ". . . very, very bad. If you ever lose a bet again. . . "
Interest perked in his lover's next murmured, "Hmm?"
"You will have to have let *me* put that in you for your afternoon shift on the bridge." Harry's mind sputtered to life with the images now flooding his brain. He saw Tom in his uniform, sitting at his bridge station, flying the ship through the darkness of the Delta Quadrant. All the while, Harry and Tom were the only ones who knew a two inch - hmm, Harry thought, what about three inches - butt plug was inserted up Tom's ass. Oh, yes, Harry could see it clearly. After a moment of savoring his lover's quandary, Harry verbalized the conditions. "It'll have to be a slow day, of course, so you'll be able to fly the ship. But also so you won't be distracted by anything but thoughts of what it will feel later when I throw you down on this bed, pull off your pants, and take that plug out of your ass . . . with my teeth."
Harry's vivid image made Tom shudder and groan, "Anything, Harry, you know my butt is yours."
Harry heard the word 'anything' and filed that away for future reference. A post-coital Paris was almost too easy. Unfortunately, Harry knew he couldn't jeopardize the safety of the ship and crew by actually enacting his fantasy. But there was always the holodeck. And Tom had said, 'anything'. But then Tom had to go and spoil it all by putting a condition on the 'anything'. "Just don't make me play Seven again."
Harry kissed him with what he hoped would seem like reassurance. As he lay there, the sweat drying on his skin, he knew he wouldn't recycle the body suit, nor the wig, nor the heels, especially not the heels. Tom in a Seven get-up had been such a terrific idea. After all, his lover made such an alluring Seven (even if his attitude left about as much to be desired as did Seven's). As Harry's mind began to drift, he began to rehearse what he would tell B'Elanna in the morning about his date with Seven. Boy, would she be surprised if he ever told her the truth. Idly, Harry wondered how soon it would be before Tom could be tricked into placing another unwinnable bet. Pretending to be a clueless ensign certainly had its advantages. He had Tom right where he wanted him: spanked, fucked and asleep in his bed.
The K/7 code was a decoy! I didn't want you to catch on in the very first paragraph . .