Float
The water was warm against his aching joints, and Spock allowed himself to relax fully, cradled in the deep pool of slightly sulfuric water. His head fell back, his facial muscles lax and even in the fading light.
“Lean forward, please.”
He did as he was told. The sensation of the rough cloth against his back was soothing, and he groaned appreciatively as strong thumbs dug into the corded muscle on either side of his spine.
“Feel good?”
“Mmm…” He did not feel himself up to the effort of formulating actual words.
A chuckle. “I’ll just take that as a yes, shall I?”
Spock smiled.
“Ok, now lean back again. That’s it, right there. Ok, good.”
The cloth rubbed across his chest, a lather building under its edge. The hands followed, fingers pressing into pressure points, delineating pectoral, deltoid, abdominal.
The cloth traveled lower, and Spock sighed, leaning back all the way to rest his head against the edge of the bathing pool.
“That’s it. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
Spock could feel his body responding, the muscles in his abdomen tightening as the cloth traveled down his torso to his thighs.
“Nuh-uh, no tensing up.” There was a smile in the voice. “It’s illogical to deny yourself pleasure when it is freely given.”
“So quickly you learn to outwit me…”
A full-bodied laugh. “Yeah, it’s not nearly so hard as you think it is. Stubborn Vulcan.”
A hand pressed firmly at his chest, pushing him back down to a reclining position as the cloth began to wash his legs, massaging firmly up and down his thighs, his calves, and his feet.
He twitched when it moved between his toes, and had his foot lightly slapped for his trouble.
“Now, now. I know you can hold stiller than that.”
He grimaced, but obeyed. Feet were ticklish. Still, it was worth it for the rest of the experience.
The wash rag worked its way back up, the anticipation building in his stomach as it made its inexorable ascent up his legs.
His cock was fully hard now, in open defiance of the rest of his nearly limp body, but he felt no shame. This was a gift, given with an open hand. He would be remiss to turn it, or its givers, away.
“Hmm… thought I told you to relax…” a chuckle again. Spock smiled indulgently, then bit his lip as the cloth circled his balls. “Well, it looks like you’ve got some real tension going on here. Guess I’ll have to see what a little massage can do for that…”
Spock gave himself over entirely to the waves of sensation coursing through his body as the hands and cloth deftly manipulated his erection, letting the arousal flow through him and out of him as he moaned under the ministrations.
“Mmm…. You’re lovely, do you know that? Just perfect.”
Spock felt his heart constrict, but pushed the feeling aside in favor of the more pleasant and increasingly more insistent feelings of rapidly approaching explosion.
He could feel his dick jump in the soapy hand, and clutched at the side of the pool as his release pressed closer.
“Yes. That’s it. Come for me. Let yourself go.”
Spock came, pulsing and gasping as his muscles contracted and his fluid spurted over the hands on his body. Bliss.
He relaxed completely, his body falling boneless into the pool.
“Jim?”
“Hey, Spock.”
“Dinner is ready.”
The sound of a kiss.
“What have you done to the Ambassador?” The hint of amusement in that voice.
“Oh, just helped him relax a little.” He could hear the grin.
“I see. You are quite efficient at such assistance.” A laugh. “Ambassador, please do not drown. New Vulcan needs you.”
He smiled, eyes still closed, and waved vaguely.
“Mmmph.”
“Think he wants us to go to dinner.”
“It seems likely, yes.”
“Ok.” A fleeting kiss at his temple, and then the sounds of footsteps moving away.
“Goodnight, Spock. Sleep well.”