"Touch"
Author: Kipli
Author's email: Kipli16@y...
Author's URL: http://www.kipli.com/
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A friendly but uneventful shoreleave together takes a sudden turn
for Tucker and Reed.
Beta: None
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the universe. I just live there.
Author's Notes: This fanfic includes m/m romantic and physical situations.
The second of two fics I promised Stoffel. No, you're not mistaken. This is
indeed a Tu/R. It is my first true Tu/R fic, actually. She asked for it. I had
no choice. ;) Bedroom design thanks to one of the few episodes of TLC's "Trading
Spaces" that I've actually watched, not that you'll be paying much attention to
the bed in this...
*******
He was bored out of his mind. Who knew shoreleave with Malcolm
Reed could be so boring? Usually it seemed everywhere they went together,
trouble followed close behind. But then, he should have figured it was only a
matter of time before they hit a slump and managed not to be shot at or frozen
or mugged while wandering off alone together. It was a relief, of course,
because Trip would rather be bored than dead. Yet, all the same, he wouldn't
have minded a little excitement. Just a little. He couldn't take sitting here
watching his drink swirl in his glass for much longer. There was plain old
boring and then there was mind numbingly dull. His own thoughts seemed to simply
dangle, motionless, as if his mind had been frozen by the lack of stimulation.
Hell, at this point he would have welcomed even a surprise visit from T'Pol,
which was saying something coming from him.
Trip tossed a glance over at Malcolm. The other man looked just as bored
stiff. He was playing with the wooden toothpick in his drink, dipping one end in
the liquid and then lifting it out a few millimeters. Was he actually counting
the drops as they fell off his toothpick?
They were pathetic.
Trip sighed and shifted in his overstuffed chair. He looked across his hotel
room and the absurdly hanging bed to the open balcony doorway. He could see
straight out into the bay just a few kilometers away. He could even spot one of
the planet's moons and figured at least two others would be up by now.
"They're not coming," Malcolm stated bluntly.
"Maybe they got lost." Trip tried his best to sound optimistic, but he knew
Malcolm was right.
"On their way from the hotel lounge to your room?" Malcolm asked. He cocked
an eyebrow at Trip.
"Okay, so they have ditched us." Trip grumbled and returned his attention to
his drink.
"Can we be that repulsive?"
"Seems so..."
Great, no women, and now he was stuck with a self-loathing Malcolm. Trip
looked over at Malcolm still playing with his drink. At least one thing seemed
to be normal. They were still horrible at picking up women together. Alone, Trip
could do all right, certainly better than his track record with Malcolm along,
and Malcolm had been no slouch either back in San Francisco, although not one
for long term relationships. Together, however, they had to fight to catch
women's eyes. What was it about them that put women off?
Trip frowned before noticing both of their drinks were running low. He hauled
himself up onto his feet and walked the two steps to the coffee table. "At least
we got some liquor out of it. What did those girls call it?"
"Something along the lines of Tamal. And I'd hardly call it liquor. It is
really nothing more than sugar water."
"Colored sugar water," Trip corrected, pouring himself another glass of the
red liquid. "Maybe it just doesn't affect the human anatomy for some reason.
Those girls were raving about it when they handed the bottle over." He turned to
Malcolm. "More?"
Malcolm sighed and held out his glass. "No offense, Trip, but I'm going to
have to start spending my shoreleaves with Travis if this record of ours keeps
up."
Trip snorted. "I do recall havin' better luck going out barhopping with Jon
than with you." He reached out to steady Malcolm's glass.
"I don't know what it is about us--"
Trip's hold jostled as he started to refill Malcolm's drink. His fingers
slipped and he made contract with Malcolm's hand. He was completely unprepared
for the electric spark that seemed to jump between them. A warm sensation spread
quickly up his arm and across his chest, making its way not unpleasantly down
his stomach. The phenomenon was intense and surprising.
Both bottle and glass instantly dropped as Trip and Malcolm jerked back.
"Shit," Malcolm sputtered, standing up. He wiped at his now stained and wet
pants.
What the hell just happened? Trip stared at Malcolm for a moment, stunned.
That was no normal electrostatic shock. He could still feel his skin tingling.
His fingers itched to touch Malcolm, see if it would happen again, but Malcolm
was busy fussing with his pants.
They'd both jumped back. Had Malcolm felt it too?
"Here, um, let me get you a towel or something." Trip glanced around the room
trying to remember where the bathroom was located.
"Forget it; they're ruined." Malcolm glanced up for the first time and met
Trip's eyes, pausing as he watched Trip for a moment. "You felt that... spark
too?"
Trip's face had always been easy to read. Trip nodded. He took a step closer
to Malcolm and then halted at Malcolm's unreadable look. "Think it'll happen
again?"
Malcolm hesitated, inspecting his own hand, before reaching out and
cautiously touching his fingertips lightly onto Trip's shoulder. Nothing. There
was pressure and warmth but nothing out of the ordinary. Both men let out held
breaths.
"Must've been a fluke."
"Perhaps we should see Phlox regardless."
"And disturb his vacation? Just because our shoreleave is boring doesn't mean
we have to ruin someone else's." Trip reached to remove Malcolm's hand from his
shoulder, meaning to bend down and clean up what he could of the spilled drink,
when his hand touched Malcolm's. With whole fingers pressed against Malcolm's
skin, the shock was ten times as intense.
Trip gasped and locked eyes with Malcolm. He could see mirrored surprise and
pleasure reflected in Malcolm's eyes--eyes that usually guarded Malcolm's
emotions so well. It was startlingly different to see Malcolm's thoughts right
on the surface.
Warmth, like that of a dozen caressing hands, spread up Trip's arm and down
his chest once more, taking a very direct erotic route south. Trip struggled to
keep from vocalizing his pleasure, but it was getting harder and harder to stay
quiet. As they kept their hold on one another, the sensation seemed to pulse,
almost in time with Trip's heartbeat. It was the most intensely erotic touch
he'd ever felt, and they were only holding hands. Trip swallowed hard and
managed to squeak, "Maybe we should see Phlox..."
Malcolm went rigid when Trip spoke, eyes losing their blissful daze, and he
visibly struggled to pull his hand away from Trip's. He seemed thoroughly
disappointed when he finally managed to let go. Trip couldn't blame him. The
intensity of the sensation running through him dropped immediately after they
broke contact; nothing but a tingling reminder remained. Malcolm sounded short
of breath as he asked, "Do you believe this could be harmful to us? That we've
been drugged or something?"
"I don't know." Trip glanced at his own hand. It looked fine. He didn't feel
ill or drugged. He just really, really wanted to touch Malcolm again. That
should have been a disturbing thought, since he'd never been desperate to touch
Malcolm or any other man for that matter, but he was open minded. It certainly
didn't hurt that simply touching Malcolm made him feel as if he was burning from
the inside out, in a good way. "I don't think it's harmful." Trip ran his
fingers through his hair, needing to do something with his hands before he
reached out for Malcolm.
Malcolm blinked and shook his head, as if he had something in his hair, then
sighed and ran a hand over his face.
It was Trip's turn to blink. He could feel it. He could feel Malcolm's hand
running over Malcolm's face. The mirrored sensation sent a thrill down Trip's
spine. "Damn..."
Malcolm stopped and looked at Trip. "What?"
"This." Trip carefully ran his own finger along his own jaw, then up his
right cheek into a spiraling circle.
Malcolm's eyes widened as he lightly touch his own cheek. "How...?"
"I don't know," Trip repeated. The urge to touch Malcolm again was nearly
overwhelming. Trip allowed himself to run his fingers down his own neck,
watching Malcolm suck in a breath as he simultaneously felt the touch. "This is
a little creepy... but it does feel good."
"That's an understatement," Malcolm sighed, then swallowed nervously, looking
surprised he'd said that allowed. He was kind of cute when he was nervous.
Malcolm flicked a look around the room, as if expecting to find someone watching
them, judging them. "Perhaps this is a diversionary tactic of some sort."
"If it is, it's working." Trip continued rubbing at his own neck. He
struggled to keep his hands occupied. Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, having the
sensations mirrored on his own skin. "Malcolm, if we call Phlox, he'll stop
whatever's doing this, and... I don't know if I want it to stop." He took
another step closer to Malcolm. Malcolm eyed him but didn't move away.
All Trip could think about was touching every inch of Malcolm's bare skin
that he could get his hands on. Again, he realized the thought should have
surprised him, but at the moment he really didn't care if Malcolm was a man. He
just wanted him--pressed beneath him, bare chest to bare chest, writhing against
him. Trip shivered at the idea.
Trip took a deep breath, watching Malcolm struggle to keep eye contact with
him being so close, and dove in. Let it never be said he didn't try out new
things. Trip cupped Malcolm's face. A jolt of pleasure flowed down his arm and
across his chest, accompanied by the same odd feeling that someone else was
simultaneously touching his own face. The uncertainly look in Malcolm's eyes
shifted to the familiar daze of pleasure again, and Trip couldn't help himself
any longer.
Malcolm's lips were surprisingly soft and parted easily with just a little
urging from Trip's tongue. Trip's lips were tingling, the warm sensation flowing
down his throat and meeting up with the warmth running up his arm and across his
chest. Warm tingling spread throughout his body, making a very deliberate route
for Trip's growing erection. He couldn't have stopped from moaning even if he'd
tried. His pants tight, room stiflingly hot, and air at a premium, Trip still
couldn't pull away from the kiss. It felt too good to stop.
Then Malcolm flicked his tongue over Trip's as he kissed back, giving in with
a grunt, and wove fingers into the back of Trip's hair. He pressed tight against
Trip and whimpered when their bodies made contact.
Shit, he could come just kissing Malcolm fully clothed. Trip groaned as he
ended the kiss panting for control. The pleasure coursing through him lessened a
notch as their lips parted. His hands moved of their own accord to Malcolm's
back and caressed their way down. Ghost hands played along Trip's own back.
"Malcolm, I..." He licked his own bruised lips and felt Malcolm shiver against
him. God, it was hard to concentrate enough to speak. "Never been... with a guy
before, but..." He glanced over at the seductively hanging bed in the middle of
the room. It dangled from four sturdy chains, one attaching to each corner. Red
silk sheets begged to caress bare skin. He looked back to Malcolm. "Would ya
like to, uh, maybe, if you don't have any objections of course, and don't
mind--"
"Trip, you talk too much," Malcolm growled. Or was it more of a purr? In any
case, Malcolm was kissing him, probably the best course of action to shut Trip
up, and working at the buttons to Trip's Hawaiian shirt.
Trip had no objections to cutting the small talk. He returned the fierce
kiss, biting at Malcolm's lower lip, warring with Malcolm's tongue. He shrugged
off his shirt when Malcolm managed to get it unbuttoned and slid palms
underneath Malcolm's black cotton shirt. He groaned deeply at the erotic pulse
of pleasure going up both his arms, along with the mirrored touch on his own
stomach. They reluctantly broke the kiss to pull Malcolm's shirt off.
"I don't know if I can take much more of this, Malcolm."
"Neither can I." Malcolm had a beautifully predatory gleam in his eyes.
Malcolm had never looked at him like this before, and Trip had to say he quite
liked being on the receiving end. Malcolm pressed Trip back toward the bed and
urged him to sit down.
Trip easily complied, adjusting the tight fit of his jeans. Malcolm caught
the move and dropped to his knees in front of him. He went straight for Trip's
right nipple. Shit, did Malcolm know how to use his tongue. Malcolm moaned
softly as he worked from one nipple to the other. Obviously having a ghosting
mouth on his own chest was doing a number on Malcolm. Trip leaned back onto his
elbows as Malcolm headed south. A warm pulse originated from each kiss and press
of Malcolm's lips to Trip's skin, fading and being renewed with each move
downward.
Malcolm reached the hem of his jeans and licked at the last bit of exposed
skin. Trip watched in a daze as Malcolm unbuttoned Trip's jeans. He hitched his
hips up obligingly when Malcolm tugged to get both pants and briefs off.
Malcolm only hesitated a moment before expertly licking his way up Trip's
shaft. Trip's hips jerked up instantly, wave after wave of pleasure coursing
through him. Both men moaned. Trip collapsed back onto the bed, lost in the
sensation of Malcolm's warm mouth wrapping around the head of his penis. In his
mouth he could feel the way his cock felt, the velvety hardness against
Malcolm's tongue. He could hear and feel Malcolm desperately trying to get out
of his own jeans without stopping his ministrations on Trip. Malcolm must have
had a man or two in his past because he was damn good at what he was doing
now. Malcolm stroked the length of him while sucking and playing with his
head.
Just as the intense pleasure nearly became painful, Malcolm pulled back
gasping, head buried against Trip's left thigh. Trip sat up and managed to
register ghosting fingers stroking his cock. He looked down to see the last of
Malcolm's orgasm, stroking and squeezing himself.
"Sorry, sorry," Malcolm sighed and shuddered as he slowed his hand to a stop.
"I just couldn't... I could feel my lips and my hand on me at the same time and
just couldn't help myself."
Trip was suddenly grinning. A desperate, undisciplined Malcolm--he liked the
sound of that. He tugged at Malcolm shoulders and pulled the man up with him on
the bed. It swayed gently as they settled down. Trip pinned Malcolm beneath him,
chest to chest. He gasped for breath as more skin than ever touched. His whole
body seemed to pulse with pleasure. At once he felt as if he was pressing down
against Malcolm, and yet Malcolm was pressing down on him. He could feel the
cool air from the open balcony on his back, and at the same time the soft
pressure of the mattress and bedding. It was surreal. It was intoxicating.
He buried his face against Malcolm's neck and could feel breath ghosting
against his own neck. He shivered. After a moment, he managed to get a tight
enough hold on his sanity to move. He rocked himself against Malcolm. Malcolm
whimpered and rubbed his renewing erection up against Trip.
"Up for another turn?" Trip purred.
"Always," he heard Malcolm whisper, then he groaned and clung to Trip's
shoulders. He panted breathlessly, "Lube. Do you have any?"
Trip struggled to remember. "In my duffle bag." He whined pitifully. "Don't
make me go look for it."
"Never mind then." Malcolm actually chuckled and grinned a little. He had a
nice laugh and a nicer smile. Malcolm pulled him in for another kiss. He had
even nicer lips.
Trip pressed himself firmly on top of Malcolm, making sure to press against
every inch of skin he could find. The pleasure was almost unbearable. It pulsed
through him, racing along with his heart, and settled in his already aching
erection pinned between them. He broke the kiss and sucked gently at Malcolm's
neck, the same pressure pulling at Trip's.
Malcolm was hard again and gasping for breath, grinding his hips against
Trip's. He turned his head and met Trip's eyes. Malcolm's hair was ruffled, his
eyes glowing with pleasure and desire. Trip had never seen a man look so
gorgeous and stare so intently at him. "Fuck me," Malcolm suddenly whispered.
"Please, if we can last that long."
"I've never--" Trip tried to protest.
"It's easy. A little saliva should do us, unless you want me to go find the
lube--"
"No!" Trip pinned Malcolm down tighter beneath him, the bed swing slightly at
the disturbance. "Don't you dare leave this bed, Malcolm." He stared back at
Malcolm. Their breath mingled as they panted heavily. Trip was so turned on, so
ready to come. Was it safe to go buck wild and fuck Malcolm? What if he couldn't
keep enough control not to hurt the other man? He knew enough that anal sex
could be dangerous and it could hurt. But then, with the physical connection
they had at the moment, anything that hurt Malcolm would hurt him too. That
would help keep him in check. The thought was reassuring, and Trip swallowed
down another moan at the thought of burying himself inside Malcolm. He never did
back down from a chance to try something new... "What do I do?"
Malcolm licked his lips and a shiver went down Trip at the simultaneous
ghosting lick on his own lips. Malcolm deftly broke the hold Trip had on him and
rolled them onto their sides, flipping to press his back to Trip's chest. "Give
me your hand."
Trip swallowed. Malcolm sure knew how to take charge of a situation. It was
exciting to be in a bed together with someone who could so easily break his hold
on him. He reached around and Malcolm took his hand, bringing it up to his lips.
Trip let out a long, ragged breath as Malcolm suckled on his fingers, licking
and wetting each one. Malcolm was purring softly as he licked at Trip's palm,
and Trip decided he really liked hearing Malcolm purr.
Trip's hand thoroughly slicked, Malcolm moved it back between them. "Just
like this," Malcolm instructed. He circled Trip's ring finger around his anus,
then pressed it in to the first knuckle.
"Shit," Trip gasped. He jerked as he felt a simultaneous finger press into
his own ass. Malcolm took the opportunity to push Trip's finger in completely.
Trip whimpered. He was going to fuck and get fucked at the same time. Surreal
didn't cover it. "I can't do this. I'm gonna come."
"Just concentrate on stretching me out. Add another finger and scissor them."
Trip dutifully did so, struggling to keep his mind on the task at hand. When
told, he added another finger. Malcolm was so tight and hot. Trip was already
achingly hard. He wasn't going to last. There was no way he could last. Then he
accidentally rubbed his fingers against a spot inside Malcolm that sent both of
them into deep moans. Trip rushed to squeeze the base of his penis and stall his
impending climax. He managed to calm himself enough to pant, "Please say you're
ready."
"I'm loose enough." Malcolm slicked up his own hand and reached around,
spreading saliva onto Trip's cock. Both rocked their hips in time with the
brushing strokes. "Go as slow as you can. I won't last long either." He lifted
his left leg and twined it back onto Trip's. Trip scooted up against Malcolm
again, nearly losing himself in the warm pleasure as his chest pressed to
Malcolm's back, then he positioned his cock against Malcolm's stretched opening
and pushed in. It still seemed unbelievably tight. The mirrored sensation in his
own ass nearly undid him. It was incredible.
Malcolm was trembling beside him, too far gone for words. He reached up and
clung desperately to one of the chains holding up the bed, biceps flexing as he
tried to relax his lower body.
Trip finally sunk his way completely into Malcolm with a shudder. "Oh god,"
Trip gasped and pressed his face against the back of Malcolm's neck. He could
feel himself inside Malcolm, hot and tight around his cock, and he could feel
the long, stretching pressure of a cock inside his own ass. He wrapped his arms
around Malcolm's chest, needing to hold onto something solid. He rocked his hips
and couldn't see straight as the pleasure mounted, so he clamped his eyes shut.
"Malcolm, Malcolm," he could hear himself moaning over and over.
His whole body felt like it was radiating with pleasure. He was swimming in
heat, inside and out. He was Malcolm and Malcolm was him. He could feel
everything. Every touch, every gasp, every thrust. The pleasure was
overwhelming. He tried his best to concentrate on his rocking hips. He tried not
to drown in all the sensations. He tried not to come. But then he could hear and
feel Malcolm climaxing, Malcolm's body milking him relentlessly. Trip gave in.
He came hard, engulfed in pleasure, losing himself inside Malcolm, before
blacking out.
***
Trip woke up alone. He startled and sat up, the bed swaying and creaking with
his movement. Malcolm's clothes were gone from the floor. He looked quickly
around the room. It was early morning and the sun had just come up. Light
spilled in the still open balcony door. Even so, he could see a light was on in
the bathroom, the door shut. Trip let out a long breath and relaxed back down on
the bed.
What had he been so worried about anyway? That Malcolm would've left for his
own room during the night? What would it have mattered if he had? Trip stared up
at the golden ceiling, rubbing his forehead.
A recognizable headache made itself known. So the drink last night had been
alcoholic enough to give him a hangover. The drink... Was it that drink that had
caused what happened last night? He struggled to recall what the two women had
said when handing it over. Something about making their night memorable. At the
time Trip and Malcolm had thought they meant the women would make the night
memorable, but now Trip was certain they were talking about the drink.
Last night. Trip shivered at the memories. It was the most intense sexual
experience he'd ever had in his life. And it had been with Malcolm. Malcolm. The
same man that irritated the hell out of him most days. The same man who drooled
over T'Pol's behind. The same man who wouldn't freely admit to liking pineapple,
let alone another human being. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
There was a click and Trip twisted to see Malcolm come out of the bathroom,
fully clothed. He stalled when he saw Trip awake, then busied himself brushing
fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Trip sighed as he realized he couldn't simultaneously feel Malcolm's fingers
running through his hair. The effects of the drink must have worn off. He pulled
the sheets up around his midsection as he carefully sat up, head pounding
slightly from his headache. "You didn't wake me."
Malcolm nodded. He looked nervous. Really nervous. And sad. Why was he sad?
"Well." He strode for the exit. "I'll be packing if you need me."
"Malcolm?" Trip watched as Malcolm froze at the door and forced himself to
turn back to face him. "About last night--"
"There's no need to discuss that, Commander."
Commander? The hell Malcolm was going to brush him off. "Oh, don't you start
this." Trip stood, swayed at the pounding in his head, and reached to steady
himself with one of the chains for the bed. "Don't you pull ranks on me,
Malcolm. Call me Trip."
Malcolm looked down at the carpeting, both at the reprimand and Trip's nude
state. "Sorry... Trip. I just don't think there's anything to discuss."
"Nothing to discuss?" Trip wondered aloud. Hadn't the night before been just
as mind-blowing for Malcolm? He looked around for his briefs. "I have the best
night of my life and you want to run away and forget about it?" He found his
briefs on the other side of the bed and yanked them on.
"Precisely," was Malcolm's clipped reply.
Trip stalked his way over to the man. "Why?"
"Why?" Malcolm played dumb.
"Why forget? Why run away?" Trip frowned. "You're disgusted about last night?
Can't believe you slept with me?"
"Yes. No. I mean," Malcolm sighed. "I enjoyed myself... immensely, but you're
hardly someone who's going to be interested in more."
"No?" Trip shot him a look. "God Malcolm, you're so damned scared of everyone
all the time." Trip sighed and his features softened. "I'd actually really like
to hear you purr again. And laugh. And smile at me. Don't run away, Malcolm."
Malcolm started at Trip's words, then shook his head. "You're not interested
in men," Malcolm defended.
"Not usually. Never really occurred to me." Trip took a step closer to
Malcolm. He smelled good freshly showered. "But after last night, I might have
to rethink a few things."
"We were drugged."
"Just lent us a helping hand."
"Trip," Malcolm warned. "I can't take... being some grand experiment of
yours. Lets just end things on a nice note."
"You walkin' out and forgettin' everything that happened was supposed to be a
nice note?" Trip accused.
"I was just trying--"
"To run out on me, I know. Listen carefully, Malcolm. I like you. I want you.
I might be new to all this, but don't push me away." Before Malcolm could
answer, Trip kissed him, hard. It was different than the night before, but
Malcolm still had gorgeous, kissable lips.
Malcolm stiffened and made to pull away, but Trip cupped the back of his
head, keeping him in place. Trip licked at his lips and double his efforts on
the kiss. Malcolm grumbled through the kiss before finally returning it.
Trip tried not to look smug as nipped at Malcolm's lips. "I do nothin' for
ya?"
Malcolm sighed and met Trip's gaze. "I've noticed you for months now. I
simply figured you would never notice me."
"You figured wrong," Trip reassured. He leaned his forehead against
Malcolm's, keeping the other man's gaze. "Last night was... incredible. I know
it won't be exactly like that always, but you have to give me a chance, Malcolm.
I can't stop cold turkey."
Malcolm snorted softly, then gave a hesitant half-grin. "You're sure? You and
me?"
"Positive." Trip smiled. "You know, you're cute when you're nervous."
Malcolm blushed a little. "I am not cute."
"Yes you are." Trip smirked and looked down at himself. "I guess I should get
dressed. Shuttlepod will be here in a few to pick us up."
Malcolm nodded. "You could drop by my room when you're packed..."
"Sounds like a plan." Trip stole another kiss before allowing Malcolm to walk
out the door.
Letting out a long breath, Trip looked around his room. A red stain caught
his attention. He walked over and picked up the half empty bottle of Tamal. This
was some damn potent stuff. He looked around for the cork and then set it down
on the coffee table. They wouldn't need any more of this stuff, not any time
soon anyway. It would take ages for him to recover. Who knew touch could be so
overwhelming? But maybe Jon could use some Tamal...
END ******************************************************************
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Four of you have made comments
On 09 October 2003 at 06:04 AM The Libran Iniquity said:
Amazing. A very well told story, the plot carried out depsite the
hesitations on the part of *one* of the boys ;)
Maybe a sequel? I for one would like to see how this plays out back on
Enterprise as well as the possibility of some drink getting smuggled aboard
somehow...
TLI
On 18 October 2003 at 08:10 PM wasabi said:
I'm totally agreeing with the last commenter. How would the crew react?
Conflict! heh
On 29 January 2004 at 08:07 AM trips_girl said:
gr8 story, loved the way it was written, really well written cant w8 to see
how it continues back on ship gd work loved it
On 09 November 2004 at 06:46 AM sammi said:
an incredible tale with a beutifully structured introduction. if only i
could get hold of some tamal....
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