Starek is changing the sheets, both because Spock insisted and because, if he's really honest, it's high time. He's tucked in the bottom sheet, taken care of the various families of pillows, and is just snapping out the top sheet when two of his frisky engineers barge in and make flying leaps for the bed.

"Riov!" D'nila sings, landing sideways. Her impact yanks the sheet right out of Starek's fingers. "Let us help you."

"Abilai-hwi," he teases, "that isn't helping. Besides, I'm fine. Better than fine actually," he appends with an immodest grin.

Odile sits up. "We'll we're not."

"Oh?" The grin fades.

The youngest member of his engineering crew nods gravely. "We hardly got to see you at all since you came back on board."

"Well there's pretty good reason for that," Starek fondly ruffles her hair. "Or hadn't you noticed?"

"Oh we noticed," Odile grins. She licks her lips, finishing with her tongue at the corner of her mouth and her head cocked slyly.

"In fact, we're jealous." D'nila catches Starek's hand and runs her fingers under the palm, caressing and tickling. "No fair of Spock-daehkeeping you all to himself."

Odile gets up to twine herself around Starek's other arm. "Yeah. He's got to understand -- we saw you first."

"Well, ladies," Starek would have lifted his hands to shrug except both his arms are pinned. "Your Riovdoes have his duties. One of the burdens of my post, it seems."

Odile snorts, dragging at Starek until he's down on the bed, between them "We didn't even have any storytimes , with you. D'nila had to tell us everything that went on while you were guests of the Vulcans. And it's not the same."

The Romulan lifts both eyebrows. "Storytimes" is their euphemism for getting filled in after away missions. In more than one sense, of course.

"You owe us," D'nila purrs, easing him further down onto the bed and dragging a soft finger around the skin near his navel. Starek is shirtless, which makes his torso easy prey.

The commander thinks it over and supposes he does owe them a little something -- they are Orions after all. So he kisses D'nila and then Odile, who's fitted herself in on his other side. The younger girl tastes of lehe'jhme. She hums into the kiss and claims Starek's groin with one of her slim thighs.

"Not hard for us yet, Riov?"

He outright laughs at them. "Ladies. What do you think Spock and I have been doing in here all this time, knitting?"

"We don't know. That's the problem. I mean, for all you tell us, you could have just been doing this," and D'nila gets one of his fingers between her lips. She sucks hard, twisting her mouth until his entire hand is flipped over, and then drags her teeth along the captured digit as she pulls back.

"Or this," Odile kisses him again, using her nimble lips to pull his lower one down, trapping it and sucking sweetly. Then she dives in, cooing, kissing him so longingly it sends ripples of pleasure down into his sleeping cock. It helps that she's moving her knee around on him, too.

When she at last breaks off the kiss, Starek looks up at the girls with a dreamy kind of expression on his face. "You did miss me."

They decline to answer, except with more kissing and touching. Next they join lips above him, gazing wolfishly down out of the corners of their eyes. The sight of those full lips, pink tongues sliding -- he lets out a groaning kind of sigh, wondering how far he can go and not get into trouble. He has no idea where Spock lies on the jealousy scale, and he can live without having his spine reshuffled by his new and very strong husband.

At the feel of D'nila's fingers on his fly, working at the fastenings, Starek breaks out of his trance. The engineers, he realizes, aren't messing around.

"Uh, Dee," he works a hand free and tries to stall her, but Odile claims the hand, fitting her tongue into the webbing between his fingers. He hisses and gasps, open-mouthed. There's something to be said for not taking your time. Still --

"This is eaha, you know, but when Spock comes back -"

D'nila eyes him with a laugh like wind chimes. "Spock has already agreed to play with the other three. They're together right now."

Starek rights himself, with a squawk of protest, dislodging Odile who falls into what becomes his lap. "You didn't !" A streak of jealousy shoots through him. That's his Spock they're crawling on.

Odile eases him back down. "Oh yes we did."

He sits up again, this time excited by the possibilities. "Let's go see!"

Both Orions push him back down, this time more firmly.

"No," D'nila insists as she drags the pants off his hips. "It's our turn now." The younger girl helps and, between the two of them, they have him naked in no time.

But then something occurrs to Starek and he sits back up with a will, finger pointed accusingly. "Now, wait just a hydrogen-lifted minute. Why does he get three of you?"

D'nila shrugs. "Spock's new."

Finding no further resistance, she climbs in behind her commander, sweeping her firm, high breasts across his back and running her tongue along the edge of his ear. "But we missed you the most."

The shortest of the engineers is down between his legs now and the feeling of Odile's nose against his closed genital slit is enough to elicit another groaning sigh. "I'll remember that when it's time for . . . holiday bonuses."

At this point he sags against D'nila and gives up. Not that he ever fights much at times like this, something the girls not only know but probably banked on, the little minxes.

Odile is pressing kisses onto him now. He knows how much she loves his slit, especially when it's closed, having gotten the intriguing description of 'girl-part hiding boy-parts', when he asked her about it, once. He loves it when she runs the flat of her tongue along the little ridge of skin where he seals. She also knows how to tickle it with her lashes, and tease it apart with her lips to go dipping down inside, with gentle flicks of her tongue, to tease and taste him until he makes helpless, choked sounds.

Meanwhile, the chief engineer is having her way with Starek's hands. She has one in each of her own. The right one is alternately brushing and raking his palm. The left is playing with the sensitive skin near his nail-beds. Orion multitasking. There really isn't anything better. Who else in the universe can work on both his hands and his neck, while keeping up that exotic boob massage at the same time? Orions are, in fact, the shit and a rollicking case of ass-pox to anyone who denies it.

Satisfied with the current level of mayhem, Odile interrupts her tongue-bath long enough to unbutton her fancy shirt, coming up onto her knees to slide the ruffles down her glowing skin. She is an angelic little demon with her lower lip caught in her small, white teeth, eyes drilling into Starek in a way that leaves no doubt he is at her mercy. D'nila is still dressed -- but not completely. Starek can feel her bare nipples against his back, where she skims them along, teasing him, even as she gentles her tongue into the sweeping curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

When Odile gets back down, crouching on her folded legs, it gives Starek the sudden idea of needing, really needing, a mirror at the foot of the bed. What a sight that would be, with D'nila behind him and Odile's ripe, perfect ass in the foreground, peeking out from under her miniskirt and around the strap of her inevitable thong.

The head of his cock is peeking out now, and Odile is lapping at it like it's some kind of fruity dessert. She slides her tongue once more around the perimeter and then takes him in that easy three-fingered grip that all his engineers learned within a single day of Riena discovering it, the result being that he extends with no fuss, smooth and slick, sliding along her jaw and leaving a trail so that one of her cheeks is shiny when she pulls back and gives him a dimpled smile.

"Like that, Riov?" D'nila husks at him from behind. "You know saj-rinam likes it. She'd take a bath in your essence if she could."

A thrilling wave engulfs Starek as he imagines what they might have to do to get him lubricate that much. He suddenly finds himself wanting to give hr that bath, just as much as he wants the mirror.

"Hlai'vna," the senior tech calls to her crewmate, "Show us how much you like it."

Odile looks down at the two of them and then at her own hips, where the sides of her thong peep out above the waistband of her skirt. She undoes first one snap, then the other, smiling hungrily at Starek as her gaze drags over him. To finish, she pulls the scrap of fabric up and out from behind her, tossing it away with a little flourish. But when she gets up to zip out of her boots, Starek stops her.

"Leave them," he breathes, his eyes on where the leather gives way to sleek calf. Damn the sheets. Damn them to the special hell they had for rapists and counterfeiters of Romulan ale. He'd change those sheets a thousand more times for the chance to see Odile just keep those boots on.

Odile puts her tongue up near one of her canines. "Of course, Sir."

And then she climbs back aboard -- right into, or more precisely, right over his lap.

She kneels above him, tucking the hem of her skirt into its waistband. He could maybe make contact if he reached, but D'nila has fitted a knee into each of his palms, pinning them near his sides. He could also maybe brush her if he lifted his hips, but D'nila has her hands firmly in place on top of those, as well. So instead, Odile touches herself. She strokes through her lush little garden and on into the petals, parting them with cooing little sighs and pouting like it's been a long time since she's had any fun. It's a front, of course. The girls take care of each other pretty much every shift change and sometimes more often than that. But a sex-deprived Odile is an exciting concept for Starek, and a blight on her slave-trading ancestors, she knows it.

"Do you want what she's got for you?" comes D'nila's maddening taunt as Odile cants her hips out towards both of them. She puts one hand up into her full, wavy hair and gazes down at him in what might be the most devastating look since her progenitors started growing eye-stalks.

"Want that?" D'nila whispers, "Nnn, so hot and tight."

Starek swallows and makes more incoherent sounds.

"You know she's ready for you."

Fuck yes, Starek thinks. Her fingers are shiny with her readiness. He's also been smelling it for way too long now and just jerking his hips is getting him nowhere. But, he is a problem-solver, and this is a problem that needs to be solved. He drops his shoulders and leans forward, catching Odile's nipple in his teeth. Her fingers dig into his shoulders in shock, as she twists back, surprised, with a squeal. He smirks around his prize, rolling his eyes up, as though he'll be able to see past her chin, in this position.

"You know what I want," he purrs, tongue flicking across the flesh between his teeth with every syllable.

She pouts at him, but he doesn't let go until she sinks gracefully down onto his erection and gives him the quick triple-clench that's her trademark.