Let her continue?

John lay there (not that he had much choice) and just watched T'Pol stroking his cock for him. She was staring down at his hard rod in her hands as she pumped it. For someone who John presumed didn't have much experience with handjobs, she was doing a very good job. She applied just enough pressure with her grip, loosening it every once in a while to slide up over his swollen cock head and tease him there a little, before pumping his shaft hard again. It didn't take long for him to begin to feel his orgasm build, and even if he had wanted to try to hold on longer, he would not have lasted. This strange effect the environment was having on him was in control.

His breathing intensified and his cock began to throb in her hand. One of T'Pol's eyebrows shot up as he began to cum. She slowed her pace a little and really stroked him good and slow. She milked a lot of cum out of him, watching it shoot from his cock and fall onto his lower stomach and cover her hand. When his long and amazing orgasm ended, she let go of his cock (which was still rock hard) and cleaned him up with a cloth. Then she turned to him, her face a little flushed and sweat slowly dripping off her forehead.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I think so." The orgasm had felt amazing of course, but he actually could start to feel some sensation coming back into his body and legs. After a few minutes, he was able to move again, but it was decided it would be best if he remain in bed for a few hours.

T'Pol nodded and tried to go back to her research on what was causing this phenomenon, but it was obvious to John that she wasn't get much accomplished. In typical Vulcan fashion however she would not give in and would not deign to ask for help or complain about the fever. John watched her work however, she she was fidgeting and sweating profusely. Her erect nipples stuck out through the wet material of her skimpy undershirt. She would stop now and then and wipe the sweat from her forehead and neck, and every once in a while her hand would linger on her chest above her breasts. Then she would shake her head and try to get back to work studying the cause of the fever.

John fell asleep soon after and had a short, deep, dreamless sleep. He awoke about two hours later. T'Pol was no longer at the table. She was sitting on her cot, breathing heavily, legs crossed underneath her, attempting to meditate. She noticed him awaken.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm alright," he said, sitting up. Truth be told he was hornier than ever, and the sight of her sitting there, drenched in sweat made his hard cock throb. "How about you?"

She looked pained. "I am not faring well," she said. Her body was trembling.

"Maybe..." John said. "Maybe you should, you know, relieve yourself too."

"No!!" she said, losing control for a moment. "This is a fever of the mind. The mind can be controlled. I should be able to control these... urges."