Underwater Basketweaving
Troi/Rand by Farfalla; rated R
(Riker/Troi implied)
blueberrysnail @ yahoo.com
Deanna Troi took a deep breath and waited with her hands on her hips as the holodeck's grid transformed into a tropical paradise. Classical columns surrounded a marble bath set into a hill of verdant green, and flowering vines twined around their smooth, white splendor. The water was clear and bubbling slightly, and in the meadow, rabbits hopped through the grass, stopping to graze on the dandelions.
A blonde goddess sat at the edge of the marble pool, wearing an old Starfleet uniform from nearly a hundred years ago. Well, most of it--the tall, sexy, black boots were sitting beside her on the marble. The red dress was so short that not even the hem was wet, even though the woman's legs were deep within the water. They swayed gently in its bubbling current, this way and that.
Deanna walked towards the pool. As she walked, she cast away the dark blue cloak she had worn out of modesty for the journey from her cabin to the holodeck. By the time she reached the pool, only a skimpy white bikini remained upon her shapely body.
She sat down next to the imaginary woman. Well, she wasn't really imaginary, just historical, but it was doubtful the real Lieutenant Rand would have put herself in this position. This wasn't Captain Sulu's communications officer and wife, she reminded herself--this was Yeoman Rand, who'd once been the June centerfold in a Starfleet Academy fundraiser calendar. Deanna had come across the antique piece of sexual silliness on a sub-space message board a year ago, and since then, this woman of bewitching eyes and towering, flaxen hair had been her favorite holodeck fantasy.
Rand turned towards her. "Hello, Deanna."
"Hello, Yeoman Rand," Deanna replied. She was already wet--and not from the water. She had done this many times, and her heart was beating quickly in anticipation.
"Your hair is very pretty," Rand said chattily.
"So's yours," Deanna murmured. "I wonder if you would show me how it works?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your hairstyle is so complicated. It must have taken you hours."
"Not really," said Holo-Rand. "I've had lots of practice."
"I'd love to learn," said Deanna. "Sometimes curly hair can be so... unmanageable."
"But nice to look at."
"I might have an easier time figuring out how your hairstyle fits together if I saw it being put together," Deanna explained. "Or, since it's already up right now, if you showed me how you take it down, piece by piece."
"I could do that," Rand agreed. "I might as well, if we're going to go in the water. It doesn't wear well wet."
*Ah, but YOU do...* thought Deanna cheerfully.
"Thank you," she said aloud. "I appreciate that."
Rand's slender, skilled fingers went to her golden beehive. She unfastened an unseen clasp in the back and unwound the first shimmering lock. Deanna groaned and opened her legs slightly.
Lock by lock, strand by strand, every glistening piece of Rand's basket-woven hair slipped through her fingers and floated down in gentle softness around her face. Eyes thick with makeup peered seductively at Deanna from beneath mascara-rich lashes. And Deanna Troi's fingers worked busily between her own labia.
Rand's blonde hair now hung free, unbound by any braid or weave or clasp, rippling in the wind with unnatural body from its earlier confinement. She looked like a mermaid imprisoned within her uniform.
"Take off your uniform," Deanna commanded. This was a program, and you could do fun things with programs.
Rand peeled off her red minidress, starting at the top. Her breasts were big and creamy-white, with a hint of pink. Her nipples were prominently pointed.
Deanna stepped into the water and pulled Rand in after her by the wrists. Once submerged, Rand undressed the eager counselor with her teeth, casting the bathing suit aside on the marble ledge until needed. Deanna stole a few choice mouthfuls of breast before Rand moved behind her.
"Lean back," Rand cooed. Deanna molded her shoulders into the embrace.
With one hand, Rand caressed Deanna's buttock and hip before moving it towards her pussy. She worked Deanna into a state of ecstatic oblivion. And with the other hand, she--or rather, the holodeck computer--worked tonsorial magic on Deanna's curly tresses.
When the program was complete, Deanna calmly dressed and placed the cloak around her dripping shoulders. She closed down the holodeck and walked back to her cabin.
Ten minutes later, she arrived at the bridge. Riker immediately looked up from his station when he saw her, and she flashed him a huge smile.
He grinned right back at her. "Deanna! You've been using your holodeck hairstyling program again, haven't you. It looks wonderful."
