It Never Happened.

The room was only lowly lit and slightly warm. From his position in the centre of Tasha Yar’s quarters, Data was surprised at the first sight of her as she wandered coyly from the adjacent room.
There she was, dressed in that strange, revealing robe. Her clothing was unprecedented—the blank faced android had never been met with what could be called ‘provocative’ attire. Immediately Data’s internal processing monologue sped up, artificial synapses firing as his posotronic net experienced a close equivalent to restlessness.

The young security chief’s cheeks were flushed as she approached, her countenance pushing the envelope of candid as seemingly apropos of nothing, she began a quiet recount of the past. “I was fifteen before I escaped…” She was saying. Most peculiar—Lieutenant Yar had never before attempted to impart any such experiences to him.
The moments lengthened, and the android heard himself responding in cautious pleasantry, profoundly aware of the textbook ‘social awkwardness’ that was occurring at the moment. She raised her hands amid his wiry set of shoulders, speaking softly. How curious, he thought—
“… and what I want now is gentleness.”
At once, his confusion and apprehension were culminating.
“And joy. And love.”
He swallowed, unaware of the baffled expression he wore.
“From you, Data—“
It sure felt warm all of a sudden.

“You are fully functional, aren’t you…?” Despite his usual naivety in the intricacies of daily social interaction, the android suddenly found the interpretation of this situation quite clear. “Of course—but--” Data’s programming was already aptly beginning to assist his judgement, a portion of his processing beginning to extrapolate a course of action.
“How fully?”
It was an intriguing thing to experience, the reception of a female’s unabashed seduction. With his curiousity piqued, the android thought it only logical to assure his unanticipated quarry of his complete ‘functionality’.
“In every way, of course.”
“You jewel…”

Wether as a reaction of programming or inexplicable happening, a smile spread across the androids face. Android logic concluded that the expression meant no emotional response, but the occurrence of that somewhat playful grin seemed unstoppable to Data. Could this be called amusement? Was this a feeling of entertainment?

Tugged into the security chief’s bed, an extreme ease of rationale fell over Data; The android lacked the apprehension of a human male and delved forward in this rapidly expanding experiment. She lay prone as his hands made their first advance over her body by way of her hips, applying a forceful pressure to drag up along her sides. The process of meticulous and calculative operation was the android’s strong suit, and as his body propped over Tasha’s, his actions took the same pace. The slender female exposed the column of her throat and he leaned for it, his right hand planted by her shoulder for support. Data found himself capable of highly improvised ministrations as his mouth made decisive work along her soft neckline. She made her first soft moan.

Accounting for her intoxication, the android safely assumed that her verbal and sexual response could be slightly exaggerated-- Nonetheless Data inferred an authentically aroused reaction in his increasingly ‘receptive’ subject. She was pulling at his uniform, undoing the vertical zipper that ran down his chest--
Distractedly, Data noted that cognition and motor skills seemed encumbered—self-diagnostics were necessary, right after…

The android told himself that it was out of concern for efficiency that he found himself presently hurrying out of his lower clothing, thereafter assisting a hazy-eyed Yar in doing the same.

Her slim legs fell free as he dropped her pants to the floor, a reactive subroutine of his beginning to compensate for the sensitivity of her bare skin, his touch softening in accordance. His hands ghosted up to her knees, mirrored their motion as her legs fell open. He leaned back.
From her place on the bed Tasha felt a rush at the full sight of his frame. Data had been suitably made in the likeness of a fit man, his collar defined by the appearance of an appealing pair of bones. Her fingertips were soon mapping his body, which was limberly muscled and slim. The musculature of his chest was lightly furred as a mans, and below, his contoured abdomen moved rhythmically in swift ‘respiration’. He gazed at her inscrutably; Tasha felt her heart begin to hammer.

As he reared momentarily above her, upright on his knees, the android’s eyebrows raised in a familiar expression. He excruciated her, slowly observed the sight of her nubile body, which exuded a pliant softness in the low lighting. The narrative of his processing ruled it was ‘effective’ to allow this female a stint of suspense—to test her patience, allow her a moment to ‘want it’. It was only moments before Tasha mewled deliberately, offering up the sound of a timeless plea that he nonetheless understood.
How fascinating—
Miss Yar had descended to a state of total emotional response, her behaviour clearly soliciting his dominance. She behaved ingratiatingly, erotically, her hands on him in an instinctual plea to the sexual sensibilities of a male— Data was bemused to ascertain that indeed, his appreciations were beginning to exceed the pretense of simple ‘experimentation’. Was this a feeling of thrill? Of urge, of need? He leaned back down to his breathless bedmate, and the matter of her tactile torment.

The cybernetic muscles of his back coiled under her wandering hands, and she was thirsty, hungry in need. He dragged his lips downwards to her breasts where his teeth grazed her, his mimicry of human breath spilling over her skin to elicit goose bumps. She trembled, he was bolstered, and moved lower to her abdomen…
Then suddenly, her patience was nil. Her hand reached down, gripped the firm phallus that as yet the android had not used, and his body stiffed. As though a switch were thrown, his conquest changed from merely explorative to something potent, something authoritative; Yar’s gaze and touch remained focused on Data’s ample tool as he tugged her hips, pressed them to his and with one hand, arranged for his access. A sober part of her noted that apparently the more than ‘competent’ android had not been left without the capacity for lust, that Dr Soong appeared to have programmed him at least with the means to know exactly what she—

He rid her of thoughts as his body jarred hers, his prick swiftly filling her to the brim. It put the air out of Tasha’s lungs, but he paused only for a second, if at all. Amid the immediate introduction of her loud panting and body tremors, he thrust into her, concerning his mouth with her drumming pulse point. He found the sounds with which she attempted to spur him on fascinating; as well as the path of her touch as it rambled down his ribcage and then around, and up his back—It was nearly worthy of being called enticing.

The expressively ‘feminine’ way that she called out to him reflected his knowledge of typical human sex, her role in which was to tantalize her lover, to elicit his climax— However, it was now apparent that so much of the experience was lost in mere literary discourse.
Fascinating, paradoxical. Her slim wrists wound about his neck, his steely, strong hand supporting the small of her back, pulling her to him. Absolutely intriguing…
Dominating Tasha Yar was a process he should not have been relishing to such an extent, he thought, before he met her lips, eager to stifle another of her cries. Was it just him, or was the room now a simply interminable temperature?

Inevitably it was she that soon succumbed to his ministrations, thusly abandoning any attempts at responding in kind—she was adrift amid his previously unforeseen ‘abilities’. Her hands gripped desperately at the bed sheets past her head, legs locked in the small of his back. Data ruled her every sensation as a matter of pragmatism, but found that her strained gasps and breathy moans markedly increased his fervor. As such, he found himself unable to account for the nature of his reactions—He was functioning as an extension of himself, plunging into her warmth with haste, and if his programming had not assured him otherwise…
He would have identified his state of being as attentive to her, passionate.
Perhaps he could have entertained the idea of… ‘feeling’ lustful.
But that was an impossibility.
Even as Data hazily recognized his own low vocalizations in her ear;
Even as his pelvis rocked forcibly into hers, an endeavour in her continued stimulation;
Even as he indulged in a tendency to close his eyes at length and listen to her cries—

“Dataaah-aahhh…” She mewled. His name came as a peaked cry, trailed off into a groan. Perhaps as a function of coital programming, Data found himself already seeking to hear that again. In accordance with her verbal cues, he had deduced her preferred manner of penetration—Despite her earlier mention of ‘gentleness’, a quick and hard pace seemed to be doing the trick, resulting in a Tasha Yar whose hands roamed over him, whose body shook laboriously, whose eyes could barely seem to meet his.

“Dataaahhhh.” His name again, finished in a cry that shook with her body—Even the android’s extensive anatomical databanks that warned of ‘orgasm’ could not prepare him for the occurrence. She came emphatically, her slick internal walls grasping tightly at him, and for a split second, he faltered—What a strange… sensation.
Tasha’s breathing was a series of strained sighs in his ear as with final thrusts into her, Data delivered on his promise of ‘functionality’. In fact, his come was a synthetic seminal fluid that spread inside her warmly, but physicality was something Data could hardly notice—The posotronic frenzy of his mind’s circuitry, in ultimate indulgence of the experience, was his true climax. His eyes closed tightly as the rush of cognitive processing overtook him, rendering him docile amid shudders above her.

As soon as he was able, Data opened his eyes. Immediately the android’s inner rationale reverted to the everyday, and he was reminded of her probable want for personal space— Almost like an electric jolt, he noticed his right hand, clasped in hers where they had met above her head. He seized it back in an instant, backing up from her to the end of the bed as her gaze danced away from his. Nearly in unison, they opened their mouths to say something. Closed them again.

He rose.

“I must be returning to the bridge, Miss Yar.”

---

Later on, her approach to him was deliberate and direct— it was her expression that was not so easily identified. He raised his eyebrows at her in a familiar look, anticipatory of whatever forthcoming query—

“It never happened.”

Nearby bridge colleagues eavesdropped—How ‘awkward’. Data’s brow furrowed, the closest thing to a response that Tasha would ever receive. She turned on her heel, left.

In the seconds remaining thereafter, and yet before he decided to bury the day’s events in an archival memory drive, Data noted calmly the slight blush that had tinged young Tasha’s cheeks.

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