The first time it happened it was an accident. He had been trying to access the Starfleet Educational News Network to view the newest VidCast lecture by Dr. Alexander Paquette T'Nglaa. Instead what the SENN gave him was a view of the mens locker room. When he changed to the second SENN channel he was given a view of the Commissary. The third channel was a view of the primary turbolift and the fourth...well, the fourth gave him the Captain's quarters.
Spock was unsure why the security channel seemed to be tied to the SENN channels in his cabin. He had not heard of any other crew member having this problem and he briefly wondered if the cameras where broadcasting the same views to people using the SENN on different ships. If so it could be a dangerous security leak, if not it was merely an irritating glitch in the ships VidChannel programing.
He contemplated why no on had made note of the problem to the Captain or himself. However, knowing the mostly human crew he was doubtful they would tell anyone about the voyeuristic view the security cameras had given them. For a moment Spock contemplated contacting the Security & Engineering Departments to correct the matter himself. That thought was frozen in place however, when Captain James T Kirk walked into the cameras view.
Spock was struck senseless. He was seeing his Captain, a man he was just beginning to call friend, in a strikingly vulnerable personal moment. Nude and wet Kirk stepped into the cameras view and dropped his towel into a hamper by the closet. He clasped his hands together and raised them slowly above his head, stretching the muscles.
Spock swallowed hard but did not look away.
On the screen Kirk slowly lowered his arms before dropping to his knees by the bed and leaning down, reaching beneath to pull out a long blue roll. A part of Spock's mind stopped to evaluate the item the Captain had retrieved. Based on the width and number of rolled edges it appeared to have an 82.657 % chance of being a yoga mat. When the Captain unrolled and spread it out on the floor it became apparent that it was in fact a yoga mat. Spock had not considered the possibility that the Captain would know, let alone do, yoga. But as the Captain, still nude, began going through the basic yoga poses Spock came to the realization that he knew very little about his Captain.
While the logical portion of his mind processed the accuracy of the Captain's poses and the rate of strength and flexibility in the body on the view screen, his more emotional portion focused on the the curve of the Captain's buttocks, the arch and swoop of his spine and the glorious golden skin that glittered with the remaining drops of water from his shower. His eyes followed the gliding path of the water as it flowed down the golden globes of Kirk's ass into the dark crease between to where the humans testicles dangled.
Spock jerked his eyes from the screen, his body following the motion. He barely registered the sound of his desk chair crashing to the ground past the loud thumps of his heart in his side and the bite of the zipper against his engorged penis.
Without his intention to his eyes moved back to the screen tracking the breadth and flow of the Captain's body. It was not ethical to watch when he was not given permission. The logical thing to do would be to turn it off and go put in the paperwork to get the glitch fixed. His emotional human half wanted to argue. It pointed out his duty as First Officers was to ensure his Captains continued health and efficiency. It was an emotional response, but also a logical one.
If he remained and continued to watch he could ensure his Captain's physical and mental health. He would also be able to learn how to better 'read' his Captain to improve efficiency on the Bridge. It was...logical to continue to watch...to learn.
For the next hour Spock tormented himself silently as he watched his Captain go through the yoga routine. Never before had his body been so focused on any sight. He had found Nyota pleasing to watch, but it was nothing compared to watching the Captain. His body ached in such maddening intensity that he briefly calculated the possibility that the physical response to the sight of his Captain might in fact render him mentally unstable.
When his Captain finally lay flat on the floor, carefully letting his muscles relax one by one Spock couldn't repress the gurgled noise that escaped his suddenly dry throat.
His Captain was erect.
Spock licked his lips, one hand unconsciously slipped down his body to palm his own engorged length through his regulation black pants. Reaching out to the monitor Spock managed to get the view to zoom in closer. The screen soon became filled with the sight of the Captain's sweaty golden body.
Spock drank in the sight, comparing the Captain's physiology to his own. They were of a similar height but the Captain had a broader set of shoulders, his chest deeper almost, as the humans would say, "barrel chested." His skin of course was warmer than Spock's own in tone but that could be accounted for by the red coloration of the Captain's human blood. But what really held his attention was the exotic appearance of the Captain's engorged reproductive organ.
Before joining Starfleet he had extensively studied Humans as a species. The diagrams, illustrations and photographs could not prepare him, however, for the viscerally engaging view of the red, heavy length of his Captain's penis rising up from between strong, muscular thighs, arching gracefully towards the smooth plains of his abdomen. The appearance of the organ was similar in length to his own, but instead of sliding out of the protecting embrace of a sheath, it rose from a nest of golden curls, flushed full of exotic red blood.
Spock's introspection of the variances between Human and Vulcan reproductive organs was halted by the sudden movement of the Captain's hand as it reached down to grip the turgid length of flesh. Suddenly the intimacy of what he was viewing increased exponentially. Never before had Spock observed another in an act of masturbation. It was simply not something that Vulcans shared, if a full blooded Vulcan even needed to attended themselves in such a manner. It was a rare thing for Spock to find his body responding to any stimuli in a manner of arousal and as such he had little personal experience with masturbation. The Captain, however, appeared to have a great deal of experience in manually stimulating himself to sexual release.
With conscious thought Spock's posture began to slouch in his chair, his legs spreading open. His hand continued to press and move against the bulge of his erection as his eyes stayed locked to the screen. Dimly he was aware of the physiological changes in his body, the increased heart rate, the deeper breaths and higher body temperature. None of it mattered though. In that moment the only thing in the world his mind was registering was the sight of his Captain arching and moaning as he thrust into his hand.
The sudden cry of orgasm rushed through Spock's blood and he felt himself shatter alongside the image of his Captain. For several minutes, the exact amount of which Spock was surprisingly unaware of, all he could do was take deep breaths to try and bring his breathing back to it's standard rate. On the screen the image of the Captain raised his hand to his lips and began to lick the semen from his fingers in a manner most obscene by Vulcan standards.