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In the Fog - 18+

Posted on Wed Feb 28th, 2018 @ 8:33pm by
Edited on on Wed Feb 28th, 2018 @ 11:41pm

Mission: Earth
Location: Greyson's Home - Corvallis, Montana
Timeline: MD 12: 1130 Hours


Steam rose and spread from the steady streams of water flowing out of the metal shower-head. The swirls of vapor escaped their prisons, floating gently toward the ceiling and resting there like cats finding their places on a warm surface. The water was refreshing and hot; hot enough to cause a small amount of pain; hot enough to burn away the thick layers of personal and moral misgivings and guilt. The metal nob was turned, and the steady streams ceased their flowing while the billows of steam calmed and relaxed into a solid vale; a fog.

A beautiful and manly form stepped out of the shower, the same steam now emanating from him. His body was powerful, like a machine, and the moderate amounts of hair that appeared on it conveyed a masculinity he embraced. Water dripped from his jet-black hair and trailed down his naked body. He put an end to the endless streaming with a red towel which he dragged along his skin. With a sigh, he stepped past the fogged mirror, opened the door, and stepped out.

Greyson entered his bedroom, the red towel now wrapped around his waist. He'd spent nearly a year and a half out of the fleet, working with his father at the family lumber-working business. He'd cut down tree after tree and had even built two log-houses. In a real sense, he wasn't looking forward to going back to life on a starship. It was too late; he had already accepted the assignment.

"You should have woke me up. I could have joined you in there." came a tired yet sultry voice from behind him.

He turned and looked at the woman who was laying in his bed, the white sheets pulled back to expose her flat stomach and her petite, yet firm breasts. If the sun had been shining through the room's expansive window, the light would be shining on her, and it would have been reaching out to him as well. It was a cloudy day, however, and the rain generated poor illumination.

"The thought hadn't occurred to me. I was just focused on getting clean, Mallory." he said, a thin smile crossing his handsome features.

"Well, that makes sense, considering last night." she said, a grin on her gentle face. They'd both grown up in this beautiful but small town. She was his crush through middle school and high school, yet they'd never really spoken until the night before. He'd started talking to her in a bar and soon they were doing much more than just talking. He'd brought her back to his home in some sort of alcohol and pride induced mission to show her what she'd been missing all those years ago. She learned; she had seen.

His vision blurred as the agonizing guilt returned. What had he done? Many people would have deemed his behavior perfectly reasonable, but he held himself to a higher standard. One day, this woman would marry a man who loved her; he wasn't that man, and he had used her for his own kicks and giggles. Of course, she had used him too, but he didn't find that bit of reasoning compelling in the slightest. A sad frown formed on his features. She deserved better than a wild one-nighter with a man who was leaving the next day.

"Hey Grey, how about we get you dirty again?" she asked, the darkness in her grin growing as she pulled back the sheets, slowly revealing the path to her womanly charm, his ultimate carnal destination. She was oblivious to his dismay, another reason why she wasn't the woman for him.

"That sounds pretty nice," he began, hardening his face, even as the pressure, the longing between his legs providing a corresponding hardness. He had to resist. This wasn't who he was. "But, I've got to go, Mal. I need to report for duty and have my belongings transferred to the Valkyrie."

She made a disappointed sound as she removed the sheets completely and stood up. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, which made sense considering his own considerable height. She looked at him with the same carnal desire that had drawn him in the night before. It was a look that drove him crazy; it was a look that made him do what he didn't want to do. His eyes danced over her body, it's beautiful simplicity making her the perfect candidate for a painting or sculptor. Her was unspectacular by most measures, but her face was exceptionally pretty and the most attractive thing about her remained, without contest, her personality.

He wasn't looking at her personality now. His eyes landed on her breasts, in particular, her nipples, which were stiff and pointed toward him. Greyson straightened himself, chastising his impulses internally.

"And you can do that after you..say goodbye to me properly." she said, taking several steps toward him.

"A simple goodbye is going to have to do, Mallory." he responded, standing up taller, speaking with confidence and command. "It's time to go."

His tone of voice and his confidence only seemed to intensify her desire for him as she stepped into his space and leaned in close enough that her body gently brushed against his strong muscular form. She looked up at him, her intense silver eyes meeting his cold blue ones. "Oh, my big Starfleet man is giving orders again." she said, "Yes, sir."

With her left hand, she reached between his legs, taking hold of her prize and wrapping her fingers around it slowly. It seems Greyson Thorne was destined to say goodbye properly. He felt the primal instinct well up within him like a tidal wave; it was that familiar desire of the man not only to be intimate, but to command, conquer, or to annihilate. Grabbing hold of Mallory, he lifted her into the air with ease and threw her onto his bed. She giggled with glee as he did so. He grabbed hold of both her wrists and pinned them strongly to the bed as he leaned over her, his eyes focused and unapologetic. "Stand by for further orders.." he said, confidently.

"Yes, sir.." she responded, arching her back, a sinful smile crossing her features.

Greyson's eye caught the window. Outside, water was pouring down like it had in the shower, except this time, there was no steam, only the fog and confusion of his own mind. He knew he had the power to stop what he was doing; he knew he wasn't going to stop. He looked at her with an animal-like intensely, the way a predator looked at prey, and it filled her with delight.

[USS Valkyrie - Airlock]

He hadn't gotten away without disappointing himself again. He had given Mallory exactly what she wanted, despite his longing not to be a slave to his impulses. He had even failed to be clear with her that it wouldn't happen again and it seems she was under the impression they were dedicated to one another in some way. This is why one shouldn't play with fire. He frowned as he stepped through the airlock. Those problems would have to wait until later. Now, it was time for him to do what he needed to do.

"Name?" Came the voice of a bored-looking crewman of Indian decent; he looked more a boy than a man.

"Greyson Thorne, Chief of Security." Greyson responded with a straight face. He held a large bag on his shoulder that most people wouldn't have been able to carry easily.

The crewman checked his list diligently and, after a split second, found his name. "Ah, yes!" he said with an exhausted smile. "Welcome to the USS Valkyrie, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Crewman." Greyson responded, moving past the man without waiting for permission. He wasn't quite in the mood that he would have hoped on his first day back in fleet life. He felt like a failure, and he would feel that way for some time.


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