CNS office Which of the four of us needs the counseling more

Posted Oct. 10, 2019, 2:17 a.m. by Lieutenant Jasmine Wynter (Chief Medical Officer) (Kate O'Neill)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Maxwell Wynter (Chief Engineer / 2nd Officer) in CNS office Which of the four of us needs the counseling more

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Maxwell Wynter (Chief Engineer / 2nd Officer) in CNS office Which of the four of us needs the counseling more

Posted by Lieutenant Jasmine Wynter (Chief Medical Officer) in CNS office Which of the four of us needs the counseling more
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

“Zo vat do you see,” Bob asked flipping the paper around. The Roschart test was classic in psychology. They showed you a black splotch with what liked to wings of a butterfly and the patient told them what they saw. Based on the patient’s response the therapist could discern their mental state better. Jasmine only saw one thing.

“Genoveva and Isabella strangling Max because I am not pregnant,” Jasmine said in a matter of fact tone as she turned her head slightly to the side as she examined the image. Her response came far faster than the look she had on her face. Her expression said she was contemplating a decision but her words had the tone of zero doubt.

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO

“Baby, that’s because it is literally three stick figures, two of them strangling a third stick figure and names written under them with lines to each one and under that, the words They Want Grandkids. Very smooth Bob, very smooth. I see you got the Picasso theme going there.”

Lt Cmdr Max Wynter, CE

“I see more of a Monet influence,” Bob replied wth a flourish but if you would like to see the next one?” Bob brandished a new image. The image was two blots with orange triangle looking things on top. “Okay, you crazy kiddos what do you see and the first one that yells out an answer gets bonus points.

Jasmine looked at the counselor who had gone rather quiet. She hoped Grace would step in soon; however, the hour was almost up. She and Max might have to come back but the check-in would be so much easier without Bob. Jasmine wondered what the counselor was writing on her PaDD about them. Crazy and needs medication was probably not far off the mark.

“My mom and his mom playing patty cake,” Jasmine belted out an answer even going as far as leaning off Max’s arm behind her back and closer to the image.

“Was it really that urgent?” Max asked her, glancing back at the real counselor.

“What? He said bonus points,” she turned her head towards Max with a feigned look of shock.

“What are you doing Jaz? When do bonus points matter?” Max asked, just raising an eyebrow.

“Question 3189 subsection 12 paragraph 4. Would you beat your spouse out to answer a question,” she quoted the marriage test. “We both said yes so I…answered… first,” she shrugged almost sheepishly.

“With two people playing patty cake? Out of a pair of Angry Bird blobs? Really?”

“Yes, but the real question is why your mother’s Bob asked.

“Max baby…you can answer that one,” Jasmine settled back on his arm.

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO

“Because our Mothers are everywhere, they are like super spies with bugs and informers and an entire network of people on their payroll. I swear the moment that Jasmine and I get ‘comfy’ each night the Console beeps and it’s one of them asking what our plans are for the next 47 minutes while they scrutinize if Jaz has any alcohol in view. That’s why everything is about our Mothers.” Max grinned, but everything he said was right.

---------11 minutes later --------------------------

The door closed behind Max and Jasmine as they exited the Counselors Office, Bob having magically ‘vanished’ like a genie back into the wrist bracelets they wore. “Well that was fun,” Max said dryly.

“Baby, next time we do this you can amputate my arm and sew on a hook for all I care, or you can inject us both with Klingon Herpes and we can take a week in isolation. In fact, isolation sounds pretty good right about now.” Winking at her, he playfully pinched her behind as he took her hand to walk back to their quarters. “Do you think we can make it count before he wakes up?” Max held up his wrist, showing the bracelet.

Lt Cmdr Wynter, CE

Not giving Max a second to react, Jasmine pulled him into a small storage room to her right. It was marked Medical 291 but there would be no patients in there because this was just where they stored extra equipment. Entering the storage closet she shook her hand freeing it from Max’s grip. There was very little room to move in here. The room was dominated by several large gurney’s used to transport critically injured people to sickbay. Not saying a word, Jasmine pulled off her duty shirt and dropped it to the ground. Slowly lifting the hem of her black undershirt, Jasmine slowly peeled off the second shirt to that she was standing in only her work pants and Navy colored bra. Backing away slowly, she reached out until her hands found the first gurney. Hopping up on it, she curled her finger drawing Max towards her. The walk wasn’t far but long enough to let some tension rise in her body. “There is no comm in here. My mother can’t find me. Your Mom can’t find you. We are essentially cloaked from the rest of the world and the door doesn’t lock,” she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his duty pants. Tugging slightly so that she could close the few inches between them, Jasmine looked into Max’s eyes. “So you wanna be a rebel. Live on the dangerous side and see what pops up,” she raked her bottom lip with her top teeth.

“Baby if anything else pops up other than what already has, I’m going to be a worried Engineer,” he replied, letting his fingertips trace the curves of her bare arms as she pulled him into her.

The counseling session had done wonders to her marriage. Maybe that was why people sought out marriage counseling. It was nothing to do with the psycho blabber about listening to each other. It was more about having to sit so close to someone you were so in love with. It was about the witty banter from Team Wynter against whatever the world threw at them. It was about knowing Max would do anything for her. All she had to do was ask. So Jasmine was asking now to revert to her teen years and see where the situation led.

Lt. Jasmine Wynter CMO

His pulse had quickened the moment Jasmines shirt had gone over her head, he knew her curves and tender places, how she held her mouth when she wanted something in particular and the way her tone dropped and became needful when she spoke. If their mothers had achieved only one thing in their eagerness to see traditions followed and Max carry out his husbandly duties, it had been holding the newly married couple back from doing this every chance they got.

“God I love you.” His words were soft, almost a whisper even in the small room as he began to explore her, while at the same time pulling his shirt free from his trousers and with one hand pulling it over his own hand, letting his form fitting grey undershirt press against her body.

Lt Cmdr Wynter, CE

“Of course. How could you not,” she kissed him hungrily. She had had other plans for today and none of them involved an hour in the counselor’s office but Max had come and she had promised him a treat for good behavior. “I am witty and beautiful. I am also a firecracker when the occasion calls for it.” Jasmine’s hands began to work the rest of Max’s uniform free as she kissed him sitting on the stretcher. They had not had a typical start as a married couple. While Mintaran culture embraced the idea of the Ministry of Harmony, it was still awkward to meet someone for the first time. Jasmine remembered their first meeting on the space station. Max had gotten Jasmine her own quarters across the hall. This would not have been abnormal but she was not being chaperoned by her parents. The bumps and dips however never revolved around their libidos when together. That aspect of their pairing scored bonus points.

“God you are so sexy chief,” she panted in breathy whispers as her hands yanked at the material, helping Max extricate his body from it. The counseling session did far more for her than apparently it did for Max. He was half asleep and playful during it but Jasmine was strangely extremely turned on with each silly quip and verbal banter between them. Any woman on the ship would jettison Jasmine’s body and not think twice to have his eyes look at them the way Max as looking at Jasmine now. Yes, there was pure carnal lust in his eyes but also something more: utter devotion. Somewhere from swiping right on the selection page to here in the dark and slightly dusty medical storage closet, Maxwell Logan fell completely in love with Jasmine Wynter.

They both had bantered about having children. The talks ranged from hell no to fudge yes and then settled somewhere in the middle. One week Max would want to have serious discussions about having a child. Another week Jasmine would get babies on the brain and Max was the walking motto no rest for the weary. Sitting in the counselor’s office, Jasmine decided it was her week to want a baby. As Max closed the space between them, Jasmine opened her legs slightly so that Max could stand between them and kiss her without having a knee poised exactly where it should not be. “I love you,” she said rapidly not knowing what to explore first on his body. If they were home and in their own bedroom, Max and Jasmine could adjust and move so that any number of positions were at the ready. Here in storage closet 717, the options were about as varied as one had in the back of a two-seater personal shuttle. Yet like any couple in love, Max and Jasmine would adjust.

“I love you,” she said in a far more gentle tone that the actions of her body exhibited. Her tone was soft and romantic. Her hands were pulling him closer as if she were holding on for dear life. Her fingertips pressed hard into the bare skin on Max’s back. Feeling the toned muscles flex and tighten with each movement of his hands on her body was taking Jasmine to places far faster than Max realized they were traveling. If he did not notice soon, she would be at the finish line sipping water as he finally crossed the finish line ten minutes later.

“I want a baby. A boy. We will call him Logan after your family’s name.” None of the sentences she was using were meant for Max to reply to. They were more I can statements meant for Max to key in on what was about to happen. Fiddling with his belt, Jasmine pulled it off his pants with the skill of someone who was taming a lion. The soft snick of the leather against the fabric of his trousers made her groan or it could have been a reaction to Max doing the same thing to her clothes. Whatever the reason, Jasmine did not want it to stop. Leaning back on the stretcher, she pulled Max with her.

Lt.Jasmine Wynter CMO

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