He was never crude, had a razor sharp wit, and loved to read. My dad was always reading He was soft spoken, gentle, and compassionate. Stan reminded ...me of a heavy set fifty-six year old Al Bundy. He kept his hair high and tight and what little he had was the color of steel. He wore glasses for reading (which he didn’t do often) but not to drive or watch television. He was a hardliner republican, and constantly made crude jokes about President Clinton (Who I knew for a fact my mother had voted. S.S.Enterprise was indeed a sight to behold. 5'9", the Betazoid had a voluptuous figure that filled out her outfit in a most pleasing image. She wore a short skirted blue Star Fleet Uniform and her shoulder length black hair was held back by a headband."How I'd like to spend a few fun hours with this little lass." The 6'3" Irishman said to himself as he considered how best to start a conversation with her. That she outranked him didn't really matter to the handsome Ensign. Back on his last. “The sun is over the yardarm, Sir Elijah. Time for the morning tot.”Drinking rum at midday, or any other time of day, was not something I enjoy. I have no head for rum, and even the smell turns my stomach. Nevertheless, I gave a sickly smile and thanked him.“And is cohabitation with native females still condoned nowadays, Captain?” I was part interested and part delaying the moment when I would have to take a drink from my glass.He shook his head, a truculent expression on his face. “No, them. I looked down at him. “You’re beautiful, my dearest Freddie,” I whispered. Freddie smiled at me. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me Dearest. I like it.” He started kissing me again.Bolder than I ever thought I would be, I slipped my hand under his shirt, and began to stroke the soft hair on his chest. My hand moved down to his soft belly, then under his arms, where I petted the downy soft hair. I was fascinated by Freddie’s underarms. I loved the black hair, how it always looked so.