Startre/drwho: 23rd Century Condom

It was another normal day on the Enterprise, which meant that Scotty had just stopped a warp-core implosion, Kirk was dictating his log entry on how he'd dealt with an alien who thought she was Thor, God of Thunder, and Chekov was gossiping with Sulu about whether Spock and Uhura were going to get married in the spring.

Spock took up position beside the captain's chair and stood at attention, silently calling attention to the fact that he had something to discuss with the captain. Jim reached an appropriate cliffhanger and waved the yeoman with the recorder off. "I'll be here if you need anything else," she said, eyes tracing over him.

"That is the nature of the yeoman's duties," Spock said, before stepping in front of Jim. "Captain, is the log correct in showing you changed the duty roster to relieve Lieutenant Gaila last night?

"Yeah, she couldn't go on-duty, something big came up." Jim paused appropriately, before sidling forward in his chair.

"Something big came up."

"Is the object to which you're referring to your penis?"

"I'm not telling."

Spock held himself even stiffer, as if trying to make up for Jim's lax discipline. "Captain, need I remind you that Starfleet regulation 122B/F specifically prohibits ranking officers from—"

"I know, I know," Jim said with his face buried in his hand, "having any fun."

"Actually, it is regulation 466C/Ψ which prohibits Frequent Unreported Negotiations—"

He was interrupted by a sound like a foghorn being violated. It went

vworp.

"What is that, mauve alert?" Jim asked Spock, not recognizing the alarm.

"I do not believe it is ours."

A tall blue box materialized on the bridge, between the consoles. Jim automatically leaned to the side to see past it to the viewscreen. He refocused on the TARDIS in time to see Donna Noble and the Doctor emerge, lost in conversation.

"Oi! A lottery ticket?" Donna demanded, giving the Doctor some shoves as he walked out of the TARDIS. "Are you pulling my leg? 'Sorry about the brain damage, ol' chum, here's some pence'? It's not even original."

"I did fix you," he pointed out, meagerly.

"Amy brought me back, with those wizard remembering powers of her." She poked him in the chest. "You ran around like a Chihuahua and felt sorry for yourself."

The Doctor spun away from her, looking round the bridge. "To business! Alright, who did it, which one of you fouled up a perfectly good timeline?"

Bones, who had finished up a nasty argument with Spock over alcohol consumption earlier that day, coughed and jerked a thumb at the Vulcan.

"You!" The Doctor circled around to Spock, ending up leaning over the captain's chair at him (much to Jim's consternation). "You're the one who's going to change the timeline, only you did, so now you won't, but you would've!"

"If you're referring to the incident with the

Narada,

discussion of those events is prohibited by the Temporal Prime Directive," Spock said coolly.

"Oh, how convenient! Because of almost you, all of time and space is going wibbly wobbly!"

Jim gave up on the Doctor acknowledging him. He stood up and pointedly ignored the Doctor in turn. "Guys, would anyone care to guess why a man in a bowtie is cussing me out on the bridge of my own spaceship?"

"He is the Doctor," Spock said, to which the Doctor puffed out his chest a little. "A renegade Time Lord of exceptional age and knowledge who amuses himself by traveling the space-time continuum, helping those in need."

"Space-time continuum, is that what you call it?" Donna piped up, from near the turbolift where she had a nice view of the captain's ass. "That's rubbish."

"Section four of the Temporal Prime Directive deals with the Doctor. It reads, in its entirety, 'Do as he says.'"

The Doctor turned from side to side, smirking. "And the bowtie is because bowties are cool. Alright, little ones, listen closely. Here's how I'm going to save all your lives. All of time and space has a booboo and I'm recommending a heavy dose of Vitamin Tachyon. That'll keep all the Reapers, Vortisaurs, Hunters, and Chronovores from being a bother. But we need an extra-special kind of tachyon, so you're going to have to fly past a black hole, towing the TARDIS behind. I'll be inside, but poke out a bit to grab a jarful. It'll be extraordinarily dangerous, so Donna, you'd best wait here."

The Doctor was preparing to run to his next destination (he liked running) when Spock spoke up.

"The tachyons you refer to would be gamma-tachyons, correct?"

"Yes, that's right, but I still haven't forgiven you for all the causality."

"Gamma-tachyons can be generated by the simple expenditure of injecting focused protons into the warp core's dilithium matrix. To do it safely and correctly will require a great deal of focus. I suggest we begin immediately."

Donna was still eyeing Jim's ass. In her defense, he had had his pants tailored. "Can I still stay on the ship?"

"Yes, yes, of course..." The Doctor fobbed her off to fix Spock with a glare. "That won't be as exciting as being dragged through a black hole, you know."

"It will be safer, and more efficient," Spock corrected.

"But also boring." The Doctor dashed over to put an arm around Jim's shoulder and a hand on his chest. To Donna's ire, he blocked her view. "Come on, Jimmy, Jimbo, Jimboree... you're Captain Kirk! Flying through space, punching out aliens, saving the day, getting the girl. Not that I approve of all that, but it seems to work for you. Don't tell me you have something better to do!"

Donna peeled him off the captain, taking a much closer look at Jim's square jaw and piercing blue eyes. Leaning back against the captain's chair, she thrust out her chest. The Doctor rolled his eyes. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Getting the girl, eh? There any girl in specific you 'get'?" Donna asked, realizing just then that her blouse was too buttoned up too tight and fixing the situation.

"It varies." Jim finally tore his eyes off her (quite spectacular) breasts. "Spock, that whole time-travel thing sounds important. You'd better get on it. Doc, help him out. I'll find Ms..."

"Noble. Donna Noble."

"Someplace to stay. We wouldn't want her to tell all her chrononaut friends that the 23rd century is lacking in hospitality."

***

The room was the size of a hotel suite, with furniture that looked sumptuously comfortable. One wall was dominated by a pane of black glass that could only be the future equivalent of an HDTV and the rest were covered by posters displaying classic cars (some which flew) and rock bands (some not human). Donna grinned, recognizing the Beastie Boys. "You future people sure know how to make a gal feel at home."

"Actually, this would be... my room," Jim said, and when Donna looked at him he had a boyish grin in place, defusing any suspicions by fully admitting to them. "But your room would be a lot like it."

"And where would one sleep in my room?"

Jim showed her through one of those swooshy doors that was starting to bug her and into a bedroom with a very nice bed. It looked softer than anything on Earth, but still firm, a little like dolphin skin but colored with the same iridescence as a pearl. Donna sat down on it. It smudged under her before firming up to provide a very flush seat.

"Oof! Bet you never want to get out of this thing."

Jim sat down beside her, taking the little wiggle of the mattress in stride. His boyish grin grew just the right amount more manly. "Depends on the company."

Donna licked her lips in that way that tended to signal 'if I'm this nice to my lips, imagine how I'd be to your penis.' But then she froze, tongue in the corner of her mouth, looking like she was following instructions at a dentist's office. A thought had struck her. "Oi! I know what you're doing!"

"I wasn't too subtle? That's sometimes a problem for me."

"Not that, future boy! You were gonna seduce me and then, once I'm all after-glowed out, you were gonna pump me for information about the future!"

Jim huffed a laugh. "Trust me, Donna, the last reason I'd want to pump you is for information."

"Don't kid a kidder, sparky! Guys like you only want to get with girls like me so you can sacrifice me to giant spiders, or because some insane computer thought we'd make a good couple, or..."

"Donna." Jim spoke firmly, in a voice that was hard not to think of as a captain's voice, and he accentuated the statement by setting his hand on her thigh in a gesture that was both friendly and verging on the sexual. "It's the 23rd century. I realize in your own time, there are people who wouldn't consider you beautiful, but they're cavemen."

"Really." Donna crossed her legs, one over the other, so Jim had to move his hand. But when she continued, it was in a soft voice. "And how am I so beautiful?"

"Your face, for one. It would be cliché to talk about your eyes, but they are beautiful." He moved closer, stopping when his hip was against the foot she had on her thigh. "And you have very expressive features. I like that in a woman."

"You should see me have an orgasm," Donna jibed, making a face before making a face.

Kirk nodded, teasingly solemn. "Probably. But that can wait. I still haven't gotten to your breasts."

"Oi!"

"I'm a big fan," Jim said quickly, putting his hand on his heart in a gesture so ridiculous it spun around to become sincere. "You have amazing cleavage. Voluptuous is a good word to start off with, but that really doesn't cover it. I am literally perplexed by the physics of them. How can something with that much mass and that much volume not be subject to the laws of gravity? Is it some sort of elaborately disguised hook-and-pulley system? Is the artificial gravity malfunctioning?"

"Alright, let's move on from my giblets!" Donna said, although she did cast an appreciative look downward. It was about time someone had noticed. She did have some great tits.

"Gladly. Your hips. Donna, if your breasts inspire naughty thoughts, those hips are some kind of concentrated, solidified naughtiness. I feel like a pervert just looking at them."

"Oh, nice way of saying I've got a fat arse."

"Nice way of saying you don't have an ass like a 12-year-old boy, which I appreciate in a woman." He moved in closer, shockingly closer, causing her to lean away in surprise. "I really do appreciate having a nice firm grip while I'm fucking. And you, Donna? Do you appreciate being gripped?"

Donna's teeth clenched. "Alright, you cheeky git, you asked for it!" She ripped her blouse open and was it ever nice to see his eyes bulge at how her breasts bounded loose, ruefully constrained by her bra. "Now you've got all that innuendo to make good on, or I could just slap the taste out of your mouth!"

Jim took hold of her parted blouse and, eyebrows suggestive, tugged it off her. "I knew a girl who slapped men while she had sex. It wasn't half-bad."

"By the time I've finished, you'll have forgotten all about her." Donna bounded to her feet and unzipped her skirt, kicking it clear. She didn't care if she never found it again – the Doctor must've picked it up at a ruddy K-Mart anyway.

She stood before Jim and, just as important, the bed in a black bra and panties. Those, thank God, were her own, cut to flatter her figure even if she didn't much need it. Jim seemed to appreciate the effect, eyes trying to escape their sockets as he decided where to start. He bounced to his feet, but Donna clapped a hand on his chest and shoved him back down.

"Oi! Don't you think you're a little overdressed, Cap'n Crunch?"

Jim paused, then a smile creased his cheeks. God, how could the 21st century produce a girl like this? He hadn't expected her to be quite so eager to be seduced, and was prepared for a cold shower and a night of her mulling his attraction over. But this... Jesus. This he couldn't turn down. And the pause would give him some time to practice those Vulcan breathing rituals Spock had taught him, even though he was pretty sure his first officer would take issue with just how he was using them. Plus, he'd always been good at stripping.

He started with his boots, since those you could get off along with the socks. It wasn't something most men considered, but socks were just about the least sexy item of apparel there was, which made it fortunate that they were covered by footwear most of the time. But a man dressed in nothing more than socks took a definite blow to the sex appeal, and you never know when a woman would decide "fully naked sex" could be easily substituted with "maybe a bit of cloth sex". It was the command gold. Chicks couldn't get enough of the command gold.

With a hard thud, Jim set each boot off to the side. His shirt went next. He'd been going to the zero-G gym frequently in the last few months, prepping for his next physical, and from Donna's eyes, she appreciated the effort. When he broke open his belt and undid his fly, Donna's gaze hovered over something to appreciate even more.

"Fuck a duck. All those pessimists were dead wrong about the future!" Without another second wasted, Donna charged into him, drawing a sharp "oof!" from Jim as he was knocked to the mattress. Luckily, his socks were safely inside his boots.

Pinning him to the bed, feeling his erection try to contain all the blood rushing into it, Donna sucked on Jim's lips like she would never get another chance. He groaned and flipped them over so he was on top, pressing down on her. The warm pressure of her thighs around his cock made him thrust compulsively, grunt out loud before he could control himself. Donna felt each hard muscle against her skin, and more under her hands as they roamed his back. True to his word, Jim's hands sunk into her rounded buttocks, feeling out the lace pattern of her panties.

"Fuck, I love 21st century lingerie," Jim said.

"Really?" Donna replied, taking a break from kissing him to squeeze his taut buttocks. "Are you sure you don't just like 21st century arse?"

"No, lingerie is definitely a lost art. All anyone wears on this ship is regulation underwear. Sure, that leaves aliens, but you'd be surprised how many of them go commando."

"Oh, poor baby," Donna condescended. She slipped either strap from her bra, saw Jim's chest hollow out with his breath as more of her cleavage came out, all the way down to the rosy red areolas. "Momma has something to make it all better."

"Please don't go there again. I have enough issues without an Oedipus complex."

"Fine, no more chatting." Wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, Donna pulled Jim into her considerable breasts. He made a muffled noise of surprise and then

cooed

softly. But all Donna could feel was his slight itch of his stubble, rolling along her cleavage. After huffing a moment, she pulled him back out. "You comfy in there?"

His face was slack. "It's... very warm."

"Oi, even in the future men can't do foreplay! Don't you have some advanced robot tonguing thing yet? Kiss them or bite at them or something!"

"Oh, yes. Yes ma'am." After shaking his head a little like a boxer clearing out the cobwebs, Jim dove right back in, actually smacking his lips as he sought to stimulate every inch of Donna's curves. She happily folded her arms over his head and neck, holding him there as he... was he making motorboat noises?

Two hundred years – not enough to change men one bit.

Still, he was really, really good and Donna was really, really liking just about everything he was doing. She favored him with some moaning like she was an Ann Summers girl and squeezed her thighs together, catching his cock in-between. He groaned and bit down on a nipple and she was wetter just from this fooling around than she could ever remember being with anyone else. She needed him inside her, and with one hand making sure he didn't stop treating her breasts like a bowl of ice cream, the other reached down to tug at her panties until she could kick them off.

"Oh, God, Donna," Jim said, not daring to thrust because then he would come and he needed to be inside Donna before then, needed to mark her like he was some kind of animal. He licked his way up the sweat of her throat to her chin. "You have the most amazing tits."

That was when the green girl walked out of the bathroom. A fluffy towel covered her from mid-thigh to underarms, still finding ways to hint at her swaying hips and large breasts, while another towel covered her hair, letting out strands of red hair that curled with moisture. She saw Kirk and the other redhead frotting like a pair of freshmen and put her hands on her hips.

"

She

has

the

most amazing tits?"

Jim broke off his oral gymnastics, instead laying his head against Donna's breast like it was a pillow and daring to squeeze the other with his hand, feeling her flesh's amazing resilience to his touch. He felt so hot he couldn't see straight. Maybe Gaila was pumping out pheromones or maybe it was just her seeing him like this, fucking another girl (because it always made him horny when

she

fucked another girl), but it was all he could do not to attack Donna like an animal in heat. That he managed to carry on a conversation with Gaila, he thought, was worth a medal.

"I'm not saying the most amazing

ever...

she's from a different timeline, y'know. I was just saying her tits are most amazing."

"So it's not a comparison?" Gaila's towel slipped, exposing maybe a centimeter of skin that made Jim's cock jump. Definitely pheromones. "They are pretty nice," she shrugged.

"You should feel them," Jim said, clenching his hand around one. How could something be so soft and so firm, all at once?

"Oi!" Donna cried, her irritability almost covering up her lack of breath. "What's with the Martian!"

"She fell asleep in my bathtub."

"Thanks for waking me, by the way."

"You looked so comfortable. Anyway, I reassigned your shift. Rank, privileges... fuck," Jim breathed, as Donna's hardening nipple grated against his palm.

"I still look like a prune."

"More like a raisin," Donna moaned. "Cuz they're green."

Gaila laughed politely, but it trailed off with a good long look at the lovers. Jim was hard as stone, and she could see Donna dripping out of her panties. They needed to fuck. They really needed to fuck.

"So... can I watch? Please?"

Donna groaned out "You can bloody well draw a picture just so long as he starts fucking me!"

Gaila purred and sauntered closer. Jim was obsessed with Donna's breasts. He got that way sometimes. Once he'd spent an entire night toying with the curls between Gaila's legs, marveling at the light shade of green her mons were. Gaila had let him get it out of his system until his cock demanded her warm, tight attention. But poor Donna didn't have that kind of time.

Jim was sucking hard on Donna's nipples, seeming to just about get his fill of one when he switched to the other. Gaila bent over him, letting herself brush against the backs of his thighs as she reached under him and found Donna's panties. Even the waistband was soaked. She exerted a steady pressure...

Donna felt her panties being peeled away from her. Gaila was taking her sweet time with it, probably giggling over a cunt that wasn't the color of canned peas, and running her fingertips down Donna's legs as she did it. Which Donna didn't care for, she had such worthless legs, but it did feel good even so. Finally, her panties slipped from an ankle, and she felt the room's air conditioning on her like a gust of wind. She was naked. Naked, in the future, with a starship captain and a green girl. Probably not what the Doctor had in mind when he talked about adventures and seeing the universe, but fuck him.

And at last she could feel Jim, totally against her body from his broad, muscular chest to his throbbing cock. Above her, Jim smiled. "How many times do you wanna bet I can make you come?"