Flux Æterna

A summer breeze pushes through the leafy branches surrounding me as my fingers delicately close on yet another plump, ripe cherry. I reach through a gap in the branches, feet steady on my ladder, and lift my laden hand to the lips of my companion. He crushes the fruit in his mouth, and an errant drop of sun-warmed liquid appears trembling at one corner.

I can't resist. I lean towards him and lick the jewel of juice from his lips. His head swivels slightly to match mine and soon I am tasting his tongue. I am only close enough to manage half an embrace, but my one hand that can reach rubs his back affectionately, devotedly, securely. He is here with me, and we are bonded and married and everything else that we are meant to be, the best team in the galaxy--on leave. On honeymoon. In a cherry tree in Michigan, of all places.

"Be careful, Jim," he reminds me when we have broken our....fifteenth?.... kiss of the excursion. "Stone fruits contain toxic glucocyanins. Do not swallow any of the seeds."

"Only yours, Spock," I murmur jauntily, letting my lips trail across his jaw. They leave reddish stains from all we've eaten.

He is quietly amused by my innuendo, but changes the subject, probably because we are in broad daylight. "Cherries are particularly pleasing to me, among Terran fruit," he tells me. "The complex flavor compensates for the elevated sugar content."

"I've always loved them," I answer. "I used to eat them frozen in the summertime."

Now it is my turn to be fed. My mouth takes the cherry from his long, nimble fingers, sucking one of them inside in the process. He moans slightly, from deep in his throat. I can only play with it for a moment before attending to the cherry, but it is enough. I have barely swallowed the pieces of the fruit and spit the seed to the grass beneath the tree before he seizes my face with both hands and plunges us into Kiss #16.

How did he get so close? I think he has left his ladder on the other side of the tree and climbed into the branches... and with a happy gasp I see he is pulling me away from my ladder as well.

Somehow two grown men fit into the crook of the two biggest branches, and although we are comfortable we've got all our limbs wrapped around each other to keep from falling down. The rich fragrance of nature merges with the scent of Spock's skin and hair, and I inhale deeply and leisurely. The position excites me, and my arousal strains against my pants.

Entwined as we are, I caress his back clumsily with one ankle. Spock knows how aroused I am--my husband knows how aroused I am--and that very thought itself makes me writhe even more. Our commitment to each other is now protected and understood and not feared.

He did fear it once--and I didn't even understand how strong my own feelings were until that fear drove him away. Then, with my best friend locked away in some monastery trying to forget how much he cared about me, I was forced to walk numbly through each day realizing how much I'd lost.

Almost lost.

Spock....

My lips nip at his neck. He is massaging my back with strong, sturdy motions. We've started to rock together in a rhythm as old as internal fertilization.

Once, several months ago before V'ger, before I got my ship back, before Spock came back to me, I remember being in Japan for a Starfleet meeting. It was early springtime, and the cherry blossoms were out in full force. It was especially pink and bright around our hotel, and I couldn't go anywhere without noticing one or two loving couples courting under the falling blossoms.

I remember the pain I felt as I wished they were us, that Spock and I were standing under a swarm of flying flowers, the ultimate symbol of blissful romance. I held my hands out as the wind blew them towards me and wound up with a fistful of powdery petals. They were soft, and crushed easily. I didn't know what else to do with them, so they ended up on the sidewalk. I was angry with them, for one ridiculous moment, because all they would permit me was to stand under them as they fell past me, and nothing more. There was no way I could become any closer to a cherry blossom, and its beauty therefore became aggravating.

Now, Spock's juice-stained mouth suckles noisily at the heel of my hand. I buck harder against him, gasping each time our erections touch through the fabric. "Ohhh.... Aaanngh."

"Shh...." He shushes me gently with two fingers, his eyes moving like a bird's. "This is not our private orchard." Then the fingers move to my temple, and verbal communication becomes unnecessary.

With our minds joined, it is easy to climax together quickly and noiselessly, hidden in the thick sun-dappled crown of the cherry tree. Somewhere in the midst of the throbbing, I latch on to his tongue and suck it for dear life. It tastes very strongly of cherry juice.

Without any reason to move right away, we remain in our comfortably cramped poses in the tree for a while. Spock rests his head against my flannel-clad shoulder, no longer ashamed of the love he radiates when we are together. I am so thankful, so grateful, that he finally understands how to live with love. He's the cherry blossom that has matured into full, ripe fruit--no longer the untouchable beauty.

My lips close around him once again.

picture credit Ami

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