James T. Kirk

Tina made a little noise of her own in response to Nyota's whisper-soft touches. She kissed her more firmly and shifted her weight, slipping one knee between Nyota's legs. Tina's hand drifted slowly from Nyota's arm, fingers dragging across the slightly rough cloth of her uniform as she mapped out the curve of her breast. She made a spiral with her index finger at the tip, pressing just hard enough for the edge of her fingernail to be felt through the layers of cloth that separated her hand from Nyota's skin. When she felt Nyota's nipple pressing back against her fingertip, she brought her thumb into play with a sudden, swift pinch.