The Secret Life Of Wally Smitty

"Ensign Smith's personal log, stardate. . .uh. . .8-6-7-5-3-oh-ni-e-yine. After assisting the Doctor in removing 7 of 9's Borg implants, I have taken it upon myself to reintroduce the former drone into the intricacies of human reproduction. Although this task promises to be tedious at times, I will remain both diligent in my duties and dedicated to the betterment of her own humanity. Here she is now. God, look at those tits! (Oh shit!) Computer, delete my last remark."

"Good evening, Seven," he said.

"Hello, Ensign," replied 7 of 9. "I am unfamiliar with the term 'tits'."

"Never mind, Seven; we'll get to that later," he said. "Please, sit down."

"There are no chairs in this dwelling, Ensign."

"It's ok. You can sit on the bed. And please, call me Wally."

He noticed the delicious wobble of her massive breasts as she settled down into the waterbed he had replicated specially for this new "assignment." He had also removed all the chairs in his quarters. In the name of science, of course.

"Now, where were we?" said Wally, sitting on the bed beside her. His movement caused her breasts to jiggle again. He noticed.

"We were standing over there. . ."

"Never mind. Let's just get to it," said Wally.

"I am uncertain how to proceed with this. . .task," said Seven.

"Try not to look at it as a task, Seven," he said, putting his arm around her. "Think of it as more of an enjoyable experience that will teach you the reproduction process of humans." He nuzzled her neck.

"The Borg do not reproduce; they assimilate. The act of procreation hardly seems 'enjoyable'." She jerked away and looked at him. "Did you just bite me?"

"That's called nibbling. I nibbled your earlobe to help get you in the mood." She was staring at him. "Of course it isn't fun for the Borg, but, believe me, for humans, it can be a lot of fun."

"Shall we remove our clothing now?" she asked.

"Not yet, usually during the process of foreplay. . ."

'What are you stupid?' said the voice in his head.

"But for this first time, I guess we can begin nude."

'Dumbass.'

"Very well," she said. "Assist me."

She turned her back to him so he could unzip her uniform. With a tantalizing slowness, he ran the zipper past her shoulder blades and down her back, ending at the top of her ass. Grabbing the shoulders of the uniform, he gently pulled it down to her waist, leaving a trail of kisses down her back. She suddenly stood and faced him. With the top half of the uniform lying on her waist, he was rewarded with an unimpeded view of her impressive breasts. As big as they were, he was surprised at their firmness. Although they were riding lower than they had in her skintight uniform, they were definitely not sagging. He marveled at her silver dollar sized nipples, which were beginning to harden now that they were bare.

"I can proceed with the rest," she said.

Before he could frame a reply, she turned her back to him and ran the uniform over her hips. He was rendered speechless by the sight (finally!) of her bare ass. He nearly fainted when she bent over to push the uniform down her legs. He could see her bare pussy. Of course he remembered the Doctor saying that he had only stimulated hair growth on her head, but it just now hit him that it meant a constantly bare vagina, with no whisker burns ever. Awesome!

"Don't we both need to be naked?" asked Seven, now facing him.

"Yes! Of course," he stammered. He was staring at those mouth-watering breasts. "I was just waiting. . .uh. . . to see if you needed any more help."

"I'm capable of dressing and undressing myself, Ensign. Excuse me. Wally," she replied. "I'm also aware that my breasts resemble eyes, but I am unable to see through them. If you wish to look me in the eyes while speaking to me, you'll have to look at my face."

"Of course. Sorry."

Quickly undressing, he stood before her and looked into her eyes this time. He stepped forward and began kissing her. Tentatively at first, she kissed him back and eventually got into the groove. She began to pull away when he put his tongue in her mouth, but as he pulled her closer, she seemed to understand and was soon copying his actions. He reached up an began massaging her breasts and tweaking her nipples, which were even harder now. Putting one hand on her ass, he kissed his way down her neck, down her chest to her tits, and over to an erect nipple.

"Your actions are confusing, Wally," she said. "I am still learning the act of reproduction, yet you are nursing as a small child would. I am not lactating. Please explain."

'Well, here's the tedious part,' he thought.

"Yes, I was sucking your breasts, Seven," he began, "but it was an act of foreplay to help you get aroused, and, quite frankly, because I wanted to. I think you'll find that most men are obsessed with your tits."

"There's that word again. By 'tits' you mean my breasts?" she asked.

"Yeah, there are a lot of words for them: tits, knockers, gonzagas, bazongas, fun-bags, hooters; the list goes on forever. And, yes, we men love to suck on them."

"Very well, you may proceed."

"Thank you." Damn this woman!

He began kissing her again and moved his hand down to her bare vagina. Just as he suspected, it was soaking wet. Apparently he was doing something right! He teased her labia by running his finger both around and inside, bringing his caress all the way up to her erect clit. Then he repeated the process. She soon began moving her hips in the same rhythm as his hand, thoroughly convincing him that he was doing it right. But she surprised him when she began running her finger up and down his hard shaft. What the hell was she doing?

It finally occurred to him that she was merely copying his actions. Still faithfully working on her pussy, he moved his other hand down to hers and showed her how to stroke him. At first, her grip was entirely too tight, but, after a little coaxing (and a small whimper of pain), she eased off and it actually began to feel good to him. Not to mention that her kissing had improved immensely.

"Ok, Seven," he began, pulling away from her and laying down on the bed. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. "I think you are ready to learn the fine art of fellatio."

"This 'fellatio' is another unfamiliar term," she replied. "What is that device?"

"Call it a teaching tool."

He had replicated a big screen TV set (circa 2000's, not the 1950's piece of crap Tom Paris had), and programmed strictly porn. As the porn slut started giving head to the donkey-schlonged porn stud, he told her to copy the girl's actions. She was an excellent student and had begun one of the most expert blow jobs he had ever had. She was using just the right amount of suction, bobbing her head up and down brilliantly, and her hand was accompanying her ministrations with extreme satisfaction. When the girl began to deep throat, Seven followed suit nicely. Then she bit him.

"OW! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" he yelled.

"I 'nibbled' you," she replied, looking confused.

"There is a big difference between a 'nibble' and a 'bite'," he said. "It's ok. I need to teach you cunnilingus anyway."

"Another unfamiliar term."

"I'm gonna eat your pussy!" he replied. "Trade me places."

"I was not aware that my. . .'pussy' was considered a nutritional supplement."

"Relax, seven; it's a figure of speech." Damn!

As she lay on her back, he first noticed the gentle wobble of her tits. Only when he put his face close to her sweet little pussy did he notice how much wetter she had become. She was nearly dripping. Teasingly, he began a slow lick up the side of her labia, laid a gentle swipe across her clit, and licked down the other side of her lips. He repeated the process until she began moving her hips. Then he began licking her in earnest. Focusing mainly on her clit, he soon had her writhing on the bed like an eel.

"Oh, Wally, that feels so good," she gasped. "Oh Wally. . .Wally. . ."

* * * *

"Wally!" said his wife Tiffany. She was standing in front of the TV. Star Trek Voyager was on.

"Oh, sorry, baby; I must have been daydreaming." Wally replied.

"Well, turn the TV off," she said. "It's time for my hair appointment and you promised to take the car in for an oil change while I'm in there."

"Yes, dear." He turned off the TV and watched her scurry around the house, getting ready to go.

Tiffany was looking good. Her long light brown hair was definitely sexy, but those big brown eyes always got his motor running. Her breasts were a little bigger than average, she had slim hips with a nice round ass, and legs that go all the way up! But something was different. She had always worn sexy clothes (one of the reasons he had asked her out in the first place), but today she seemed a little more sexy than usual. He just couldn't quite figure out what was different. The titty shirt was the same one (his favorite) that she had worn a thousand times, and her miniskirt was definitely not new. Her hair? No, that was the same. He lifted the back of her skirt. Nope, she was wearing panties.

"Hey!" she lurched forward, pulled her skirt back down, and turned to face him. "What are you doing?"

"You look much hotter than normal today, Your Hotness," he replied. "I just can't figure out why."

"Well, since your eyes can only go from my tits to my ass, I'm not surprised," she teased. "Maybe you should look somewhere else now and then."

"If you could see those tits and that ass from my point of view, you'd stare too," he replied. "Why don't you just tell me what's different?"

"I already gave you a hint, and since I haven't had my hair done yet, there's only one direction left to go."

He looked down. Wait. She hated high heels. What was she doing in high heels? Never mind that, look what they're doing to her legs! He finally figured it out. When a woman wears heels, it makes her legs look about 10 feet longer than they really are. She saw him staring and knew he had realized what was different.

"Coming dear?" she asked as she turned and headed for the door.

He didn't hear her. He was too busy staring. He had always loved the inviting jiggle of her ass, but perched on top of those mile-high legs, he was in perv heaven. He followed her, of course, but he still couldn't speak. Following her around to her side of the car, he unlocked her door and opened it for her.

"Aw, how sweet," she teased. "A little ass wiggle turns you into the perfect gentleman."

"You know me." he replied. "Would you mind unlocking my door, please?"

Hell yeah, it worked! As she leaned over, he was rewarded with a gratuitous up skirt, ass side, panty clad, crotch shot. She turned and saw him ogling. Busted.

"God, you are such a pervert!" she giggled, lifting her leg to give the already impressive view a vast improvement. "I should've known."

With a wink and a smile, he walked around and got in. Glancing at her as he started the car, he saw that she was still smiling. He also saw that her legs were spread, giving him another panty shot.

* * * *

The panties were gone. When he looked over there now, he could see her hairless little pussy with a sheen of moisture along the lips. Moving his eyes down her legs and back up, he marveled in the beauty that was his beloved wife. He traced his view (reluctantly!) past her bare vagina, up her firm, flat belly, and onward to her luscious hooters. The titty shirt was gone too. In its place was a tight fitting button-down shirt that was completely unbuttoned. There lay her twin beauties in all their glory. How did she. .? No matter. He glanced back at the road.

"Now, Wally," she cooed, "you're not going to miss the show I've gone to so much trouble to put on for you, are you?" Biting her bottom lip, she arched her back and began squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples. She licked her lips and looked over at him with dreamily slitted eyes.

"Just trying not to wreck, Miss Hotly." he replied. Man, it was hard to concentrate on the road!

He checked the road one more time, then focused his attention on his sweet wife. Smiling seductively at him, she brought one hand to her mouth, sucked on her finger for just a moment, then ran a tantalizingly slow journey down to her moist pussy lips. With a sharp intake of breath, she ran her finger up and down her slit, teasing her clit, while her other hand continued to work on her bare breasts. He checked the road again.

"Oh, I wish I had your hard cock in me now." she moaned, her fingers moving faster along her slit. Does she ever talk like that? Who cares?

"Wally," her voice had an air of urgency in it, "pull over and fuck me!"

"We can't, sweetheart," he replied, "you have an appointment."

She groaned. Her fingers were now moving frantically on her pussy, her hips were bucking, and her other hand was savagely assaulting her breasts. "Forget the appointment! I need you in me now!" she pleaded.

"Are you sure?" he asked, checking the road again.

"Wally, just forget the damn road." she said. "Wally. Forget the damn road. Wally. . ."

* * * *

"Wally! Watch the damn road!" Tiffany yelled.

He quickly checked the road and eased the car back into his own lane. Then he looked at her again. The titty shirt was back. He guessed the panties were too, but her legs were locked down tight. The heels were still there, though.

"Wally! Road!" she bitched. "What is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, babe, I got a little distracted."

"Distracted? Are you kidding?" she began. "How long have we been married? Eight years? And after all this time you're still ogling me like a prepubescent hard-on who just discovered boobies. Usually I don't mind, but knock it off while we're driving."

"Boobies! How in the hell could I forget boobies?"

"What?" She looked confused.

"Sorry, dear," he said. He couldn't help it; he took one more sweep of her body. "Last time; I promise." He had carefully avoided the 7 of 9 fantasy.

She was not amused. The rest of the car ride was uneventful to say the least. He pulled up to the beauty salon to let her out.

"Just come back here when you're done," she said, leaning over to kiss him goodbye. He reached out and groped her. "How did I know?" she giggled. "Well, at least you're not trying to kill us this time."

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too." she replied, getting out of the car. He watched her all the way to the door before he left. She knew. That's why she gave him that little exaggerated wiggle.

Pulling out into traffic, he began to reflect on what she had said. Maybe he did have a problem. Was everything about sex? Well, yeah, but wasn't that how everyone felt? Oh, well, at least he wasn't a murderer or a rapist.

At only four blocks away, he was at the Qwik-Lube before he knew it. He pulled in, told the guy what he wanted, and asked if they had a waiting room.

"We ain't no hospital," said the talking monkey Wally had just entrusted his vehicle to. The guy must have seen the discontent on his face. "Hey I's just kiddin'. Right through them doors there. There's a lotta chairs in there." (They's a lotta chars in-nar.)

As sour as his mood had just become, he perked up immediately when he saw the gorgeous blonde who was also waiting. She was dressed a little conservatively, but very sexy nonetheless. Her long blonde hair flowed sensuously over her shoulders while a few runaway strands made their way over to cover one of her eyes seductively. Her eyes were a deep green that Wally had always found sexy. Only her smart business suit ruined the ensemble, in Wally's opinion. Not that professionally dressed women were a turnoff, and her skirt was definitely tight enough, it's just that Wally preferred Daisy Dukes and titty shirts on insanely hot women. As she lay down her magazine and headed for the bathroom, she smiled at him. Was she shaking her ass on purpose?

* * * *

Was this building a fire station at one time? He hadn't noticed the pole before, but there it was, right in front of him. The hole in the ceiling had been roughly patched. He guessed that it had, indeed, been a fire house. But why would they sloppily patch around the pole and not just take it out? Never mind that now, blondie was on her way back from the bathroom. She had removed the suit coat, leaving just a semi-transparent white blouse. He could see that the bra underneath was dark colored, but was she wearing a loose-fitting, pleated, plaid skirt when she went in there? Did he really miss the white stockings and spiked heels?

He did notice the exaggerated sway of her hips as she (sashayed?) over to him in perfect rhythm to the music. Wait, what music? Where did that come from? She had a seductive smile on her face as she approached him. Looking him up and down, she walked in front of him and put her foot up on the back of his chair, pushing her G-string clad pussy right in his face.

"I hope you're ready for a good show," she cooed.

Backing up against the pole, she arched her back, her breasts straining against the sheer fabric of her blouse. Gyrating her hips to the music, she squatted down, giving him an up skirt crotch shot, then stood again. Grabbing the pole high, she then twirled around the pole, her legs in the air, then wrapping her legs around as she gently lowered herself to the floor. Standing up, she wiggled her way back to him (only a few short steps), ripping off her shirt in the process. She dangled it in front of and across his face before dropping it in his lap and unhooking her bra. Still holding the bra in place, she faced him and squatted down again, her hips still gyrating to the music, and her breasts nearly touching his face. He wasn't looking up her skirt this time.

She slowly pulled the bra across her tits, flicked it across the room, and dangled her breasts directly in front of his face. With her still moving to the rhythm of the music, those tits were jiggling invitingly. He had been to enough titty-bars to know that the dancers don't like to be groped, so he sat there stoically. Pushing her breasts together, she pressed them into his face. With a titty on each cheek, he had a hard (no pun intended) time keeping his hands to himself. She pulled back a little and put a nipple on his lips. But when he opened his mouth, she pulled away.

"I was beginning to think you weren't interested," she teased, giving her breasts another squeeze. "This show is just for you, Wally; you can do anything you want."

His momma raised no fool. He reached up, grabbed both titties, and pulled them back to his face. She allowed him to suck on her nipples for a little while before she pulled away; telling him the show wasn't over yet. While he had been busy on her boobs, he failed to notice that her skirt was ready to come off. She turned her back to him and spread her legs. Bending over at the waist, she slowly pushed the skirt down her legs. The thin strip of material barely covered her nearly exposed vagina (he wasn't really interested in her completely exposed butt hole); he could see the slightly darkened region on the inside of her thighs and her slit was perfectly outlined through her tight panties. Still bent over, she ripped off her panties with a quick flick of her wrists. Now her delicious vagina was fully exposed to his horny gaze. She turned around and returned her foot to the back of his chair. Just as he closed his eyes and leaned forward to taste his prize, she disappeared.

She was sitting across the room as she had been when he came in; her business suit just the way it was. Standing in front of him now was the idiot he had given his car to. The guy reached up to the lapel of his coveralls and ripped them off. Damned if he wasn't wearing a G-string too. Now wait just a damn minute! Wally didn't want a striptease from a guy. The guy reached out and grabbed Wally's shoulder. His crotch inches from Wally's face as he pulled him forward.