Title: Best Laid Plans (Often Go Awry)
Author:![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
scullyseviltwin
Rating: A to the DULT. Porn people. It's porn.
Spoilers: Was supposed to be set during 'The Case of the Crossdressing Carp'... or so I was told.
Category: PWP
Disclaimer: Ehem, MINE! All mine!!! Did you buy that? Me either.
Thanks: Well,microgirl8225 gave me the idea... the entire plot really. And beta'd. So it's for her, but not a surprise.
Summary: Falling into a routine can often furnish unexpected... rewards? (Worst. Summary. Ever.)
Their days off weren't characterized by a tumult of exciting, new experiences. They certainly did not seek out adventure nor excitement, but rather settled for the nothings that composed the days of couples who were content to spend their time with the other.
True, there were elaborate dinners, but they were produced in the comfort of one of their homes. Movie nights were spent sharing a bottle of wine, and either falling asleep on the sofa or allowing the subtle alcohol to lead them to the bedroom, where they would undress and proceed to tire the other out.
Moments like these, however, were few and far between. As of late, they had been unable to find a solitary night during which one or the other wasn’t too tired, too irritated, too busy. Thus, they settled for sleeping next to one another, fine with being relegated to their own side of the bed when the other claimed, “Really, they needed sleep.”
Sara settled for rushed sex before he had to slip off to work; Grissom settled for a quick blowjob in the shower-even that wouldn’t have been feasible time-wise if he hadn’t managed to shampoo her hair for her while occupied.
When they had first gotten together, Grissom thought that every gesture whether grand or fleeting, would carry some sort of overwhelming emotion, feeling. It rather upset him that he’d allowed them to slip into a lull in which they were perfectly happy to simply kiss each other once before they retreated to bed.
The rather base, male portion of his psyche wished to romance her. And while he certainly didn’t have the energy to do this every night, once in awhile was an absolute must.
That was why, when Sara arrived home from an overtime sift on a mutual night off, he greeted her at the door with a devious smile and a slow, slow, slow, deep kiss. Meeting him movement for moment, Sara responded, miss him back with equal fervor.
As he was about to move the party from her lips to her neck, she pulled back. “Whoa, what’s up with the over-enthusiastic greeting.” Standing straight, Grissom met her eyes; Sara simply smiled knowingly at him, patted him on the shoulder and sidestepped him, shutting the door in her wake.
He watched her go through the motions of her coming home routine. Keys in the bowl on the counter, shoes beneath the coffee table, bag on the easy chair. Arms over her head in a stretch that exposed a thin strip of her stomach. “I have,” Grissom began to admit, thinking that he was effectively putting his grand scheme into motion. “Been thinking about getting you naked all day.”
Surprised and amusement registered equally on her face, and she lowered her arms slowly, unable to speak for a moment. Luckily, a yawn overcame her and helped her recall her initial priorities. “Well,” she claimed, around the cusp of another, smaller yawn. “That’s fantastic and romantic but… I really need to shower.” As if to prove her point she plucked the front of her tee shirt away from her skin. “I’m clammy.”
Eagerly, she spun on heel and with arms over her head once more in a tantalizing (for him) stretch, she disappeared down the hallway. “And you think you could reheat me some of that curry?”
Standing in the foyer dejected but not defeated, Grissom sighed and padded into the kitchen where he proceeded to do as asked and heated her up a large portion of curry. If everything went according to their recent scheduled, she would eat, he would get into his pajamas and they would go immediately to bed where they would sleep.
Straightening his spine, determined, he decided that wasn’t going to be the plan tonight. She would eat, she would go to the bedroom intending to sleep, where he would ravage her. It had been far too long since he had had the pleasure of giving her an orgasm (forget numerous and multiple) and that would all change this evening.
He hadn’t tasted her in nearly two weeks and he was very nearly craving it. If she asked, he might even be tempted to beg. So he waited patiently, didn’t want to push it; he would simply act the predator and hopefully capitalize on the delicious prey…
Sara appeared from the shower just as he was stirring her dinner one final time. Already clad in her nightwear, she slid up onto a kitchen stool and waited as he bowled her food and slid it to her. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” Grissom claimed and dropped a kiss on top of her head as he walked by. Her only response was a muted “Kay,” around a mouth of food.
Once in the bathroom, he washed his face, brushed his teeth and imagined himself undressing her quickly, having his way with her for hours.
When he’d completed his ritual, he made his way back into the bedroom, where she was already under the covers, bedside lamp off, ready to sleep. “Hey, I’m leaving my phone on, Ronnie’s doing her first stint in the field with Greg.” Another yawn punctuated her sentence. “Told her to call me after, I’ll put it on vibrate.”
Saying nothing, he clambered into bed bedside her, sidling up to her back, sliding his hand over her thin tank top. “S’fine,” he drawled and teased his thumb underneath the fabric to circle around her belly button.
Sighing, she settled back into him, lulled by the movement of his skin on her. But when he added his entire hand and moved up to cup her breast, she groaned. “Gil, please… I’m tired.”
He too sighed and stilled for a moment. “Sara, honey, I’ve gone without you for days, weeks now; I need to taste you.” Grissom’s voice was low, paced and almost frighteningly gravelly. He sounded like he’d just woken up from a year-long hibernation. A small spark of desire lit in her belly, he could tell when she squirmed against him.
“I’m tiiiiiiired,” she complained, but there was a tinge of something to her voice. Something that made him press on.
This time, his hand fell upon her breast and palmed a bit, his lips finding a tendon in her neck, beard rough against the smooth skin of her shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’m just asking you to lay there.” In his voice there was now humor and patience and he paused for a moment, waited for her to consider what he was offering.
There was a minute shuffling and she was turning to face him, eyes alright with mischief and happiness. “Well, I suppose if I don’t have to do any of the work,” her lips inched closer to his in a tease.
“None at all,” he promised, almost too quickly, but swooped in to steal her waiting lips in a kiss.
As his tongue slid against hers, he passed his arm beneath the covers and tossed them back, exposing both of their bodies to the cool air. Chuckling against him, Grissom settled his body easily over hers , nipped at her lips, slid his leg in between hers.
Sara bucked beneath him, her core hot against his leg, pushing against him in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that had been surprisingly quick in building. He grinned to himself, knowing that he had her exactly where he wanted her and was intent on thanking her for allowing him to get her there.
With one hand at her neck, the other slid to her hip, plucking at the drawstring of her pants, which came undone easily. Against him, she laughed and grabbed his neck, opening her mouth further, kissing him with more fervor, passion, erasing any remaining doubts that she was wholly, fully in the moment with him.
Pulling away from her mouth with an audible smack, Grissom moved to his side and urged her to sit up, which she did easily. “I thought I didn’t have to do any work,” she said in jest as he whisked the top off of her, leaving a mess of ruffled hair in his wake.
Advancing on her, he moved to nip at her breast, running his teeth around the nipple. “I’m sorry I can’t make your clothing dematerialize.” His mouth latched on and sucked for a moment. Drawing back to pay attention to the other breast, he added, “Believe me, I’ll be working on that particular phenomenon tomorrow if it means you’ll let me do this every night.”
“Sounds good,” she sighed and closed her eyes as his mouth moved pleasurably over her chest. “Sounds… good.”
On his side, one hand surrounded her breast, while his tongue ran beneath the curve of her chest. His other hand snuck up her thigh, passing in between her legs to feel the heat. Even through the fabric, she was hot; the groan her unleashed on her skin caused a chain reaction, moving Sara to emit her own, deep moan.
Fracturing apart a bit, he lost some of his control, abandoned her skin to sit up and quickly divest her of her pants.”Oh jesus,” came his plea and he met her gaze for a fraction of a second before he settled down between her legs, inhaling her scent.
Breath hitching in her throat, she waited for him to act, but for one moment longer, he just looked, dragged the tip of his nose against her clit. When he pulled back and licked her delicately, the air whoosed out of her lungs like a typhoon. Receiving the reaction he had hope for, Grissom grinned and ran his tongue up the seam of her sex more forcefully.
Sara’s hands fisted the bedspread, tugged at his hair, pulled at her nipples.
When he lips encircled her clit, she bucked into his mouth, almost dislodging him, but he held fast. Strong hands slid up her thighs, settling at the juncture of leg and torso as he continued to stroke her pussy with the flat of his tongue.
A long sigh escaped him; he’d waited weeks, days, all night for this; goddamned if it wasn’t worth all those minutes thinking about it.
A hand abandoned the skin of her hip and moved to slide inside of her.
“Oh, okay, jesus fuck, Gil,” Eyes snapping open, she moved to rest on her elbows, glancing down at him. “Gonna make me come,” she groaned and fell back against the pillows defeated.
How could this woman make such an activity so fun for him; he loved doing it, loved eating her out, loved hearing the sounds she made, loved the way she yanked on his hair, cussed, asked for more. And he loved doing it all for her, loved the way she came against his lips, kissed him afterwards, tasting herself.
Curling his fingers upward, Grissom began stroked her harder, taking short swiped over her clit before suckling on the tiny nub. Her breathing hiccoughed, chest heaving and he felt her tighten around him. A feral smile spreading across his lips, he looked up at her as he added a third finger and sucked deliberately, lewdly, loudly at her.
That did it; she tensed and emitted a long stream of “Ohhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Gillllll…” Coming around him, he didn’t bother stopping, continuing to stroke and lave at her with a more-than-eager tongue.
As the tremors subsided and she began to regain her breath, he slid his fingers out of her; moving up her body, he offered the digits to her, which she sucked on lazily. “Hon, no way I’m… I have no bones,” Sara smiled as she placed a tiny kiss on the pad of each finger. “I’m sorry.”
Grissom smiled, hand sliding down to grasp his cock. “Perfectly alright, honey.” Leaning in, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I won’t keep you up if I take care of this,” he added with a growl and a wink. Hand sliding quickly over himself, he watched as her eyes went wide.
And she watched.
Neither of them had noticed the cell phone that had been thrown to the floor during the fray, open.
Back at C.S.I. headquarters, Ronnie placed her cell phone carefully back in her pocket; mouth slack, eyes glazed and wide, she moved to slump into a chair at the break room table.
Greg whirled into the room, bag of coffee in hand. “Is Sara coming?”
Distractedly, Ronnie looked out the clear glass windows to the hallway of the lab. “She already did,” the girl said, horrified.
“Huh?” Greg was too busy adding anew filter to the machine to understand what she had said.
Snapping from her reverie, Ronnie looked over at her partner on the case. “No, I uh, I couldn’t get a hold of her.”
Author:
scullyseviltwinRating: A to the DULT. Porn people. It's porn.
Spoilers: Was supposed to be set during 'The Case of the Crossdressing Carp'... or so I was told.
Category: PWP
Disclaimer: Ehem, MINE! All mine!!! Did you buy that? Me either.
Thanks: Well,
microgirl8225 gave me the idea... the entire plot really. And beta'd. So it's for her, but not a surprise. Summary: Falling into a routine can often furnish unexpected... rewards? (Worst. Summary. Ever.)
Their days off weren't characterized by a tumult of exciting, new experiences. They certainly did not seek out adventure nor excitement, but rather settled for the nothings that composed the days of couples who were content to spend their time with the other.
True, there were elaborate dinners, but they were produced in the comfort of one of their homes. Movie nights were spent sharing a bottle of wine, and either falling asleep on the sofa or allowing the subtle alcohol to lead them to the bedroom, where they would undress and proceed to tire the other out.
Moments like these, however, were few and far between. As of late, they had been unable to find a solitary night during which one or the other wasn’t too tired, too irritated, too busy. Thus, they settled for sleeping next to one another, fine with being relegated to their own side of the bed when the other claimed, “Really, they needed sleep.”
Sara settled for rushed sex before he had to slip off to work; Grissom settled for a quick blowjob in the shower-even that wouldn’t have been feasible time-wise if he hadn’t managed to shampoo her hair for her while occupied.
When they had first gotten together, Grissom thought that every gesture whether grand or fleeting, would carry some sort of overwhelming emotion, feeling. It rather upset him that he’d allowed them to slip into a lull in which they were perfectly happy to simply kiss each other once before they retreated to bed.
The rather base, male portion of his psyche wished to romance her. And while he certainly didn’t have the energy to do this every night, once in awhile was an absolute must.
That was why, when Sara arrived home from an overtime sift on a mutual night off, he greeted her at the door with a devious smile and a slow, slow, slow, deep kiss. Meeting him movement for moment, Sara responded, miss him back with equal fervor.
As he was about to move the party from her lips to her neck, she pulled back. “Whoa, what’s up with the over-enthusiastic greeting.” Standing straight, Grissom met her eyes; Sara simply smiled knowingly at him, patted him on the shoulder and sidestepped him, shutting the door in her wake.
He watched her go through the motions of her coming home routine. Keys in the bowl on the counter, shoes beneath the coffee table, bag on the easy chair. Arms over her head in a stretch that exposed a thin strip of her stomach. “I have,” Grissom began to admit, thinking that he was effectively putting his grand scheme into motion. “Been thinking about getting you naked all day.”
Surprised and amusement registered equally on her face, and she lowered her arms slowly, unable to speak for a moment. Luckily, a yawn overcame her and helped her recall her initial priorities. “Well,” she claimed, around the cusp of another, smaller yawn. “That’s fantastic and romantic but… I really need to shower.” As if to prove her point she plucked the front of her tee shirt away from her skin. “I’m clammy.”
Eagerly, she spun on heel and with arms over her head once more in a tantalizing (for him) stretch, she disappeared down the hallway. “And you think you could reheat me some of that curry?”
Standing in the foyer dejected but not defeated, Grissom sighed and padded into the kitchen where he proceeded to do as asked and heated her up a large portion of curry. If everything went according to their recent scheduled, she would eat, he would get into his pajamas and they would go immediately to bed where they would sleep.
Straightening his spine, determined, he decided that wasn’t going to be the plan tonight. She would eat, she would go to the bedroom intending to sleep, where he would ravage her. It had been far too long since he had had the pleasure of giving her an orgasm (forget numerous and multiple) and that would all change this evening.
He hadn’t tasted her in nearly two weeks and he was very nearly craving it. If she asked, he might even be tempted to beg. So he waited patiently, didn’t want to push it; he would simply act the predator and hopefully capitalize on the delicious prey…
Sara appeared from the shower just as he was stirring her dinner one final time. Already clad in her nightwear, she slid up onto a kitchen stool and waited as he bowled her food and slid it to her. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” Grissom claimed and dropped a kiss on top of her head as he walked by. Her only response was a muted “Kay,” around a mouth of food.
Once in the bathroom, he washed his face, brushed his teeth and imagined himself undressing her quickly, having his way with her for hours.
When he’d completed his ritual, he made his way back into the bedroom, where she was already under the covers, bedside lamp off, ready to sleep. “Hey, I’m leaving my phone on, Ronnie’s doing her first stint in the field with Greg.” Another yawn punctuated her sentence. “Told her to call me after, I’ll put it on vibrate.”
Saying nothing, he clambered into bed bedside her, sidling up to her back, sliding his hand over her thin tank top. “S’fine,” he drawled and teased his thumb underneath the fabric to circle around her belly button.
Sighing, she settled back into him, lulled by the movement of his skin on her. But when he added his entire hand and moved up to cup her breast, she groaned. “Gil, please… I’m tired.”
He too sighed and stilled for a moment. “Sara, honey, I’ve gone without you for days, weeks now; I need to taste you.” Grissom’s voice was low, paced and almost frighteningly gravelly. He sounded like he’d just woken up from a year-long hibernation. A small spark of desire lit in her belly, he could tell when she squirmed against him.
“I’m tiiiiiiired,” she complained, but there was a tinge of something to her voice. Something that made him press on.
This time, his hand fell upon her breast and palmed a bit, his lips finding a tendon in her neck, beard rough against the smooth skin of her shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’m just asking you to lay there.” In his voice there was now humor and patience and he paused for a moment, waited for her to consider what he was offering.
There was a minute shuffling and she was turning to face him, eyes alright with mischief and happiness. “Well, I suppose if I don’t have to do any of the work,” her lips inched closer to his in a tease.
“None at all,” he promised, almost too quickly, but swooped in to steal her waiting lips in a kiss.
As his tongue slid against hers, he passed his arm beneath the covers and tossed them back, exposing both of their bodies to the cool air. Chuckling against him, Grissom settled his body easily over hers , nipped at her lips, slid his leg in between hers.
Sara bucked beneath him, her core hot against his leg, pushing against him in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that had been surprisingly quick in building. He grinned to himself, knowing that he had her exactly where he wanted her and was intent on thanking her for allowing him to get her there.
With one hand at her neck, the other slid to her hip, plucking at the drawstring of her pants, which came undone easily. Against him, she laughed and grabbed his neck, opening her mouth further, kissing him with more fervor, passion, erasing any remaining doubts that she was wholly, fully in the moment with him.
Pulling away from her mouth with an audible smack, Grissom moved to his side and urged her to sit up, which she did easily. “I thought I didn’t have to do any work,” she said in jest as he whisked the top off of her, leaving a mess of ruffled hair in his wake.
Advancing on her, he moved to nip at her breast, running his teeth around the nipple. “I’m sorry I can’t make your clothing dematerialize.” His mouth latched on and sucked for a moment. Drawing back to pay attention to the other breast, he added, “Believe me, I’ll be working on that particular phenomenon tomorrow if it means you’ll let me do this every night.”
“Sounds good,” she sighed and closed her eyes as his mouth moved pleasurably over her chest. “Sounds… good.”
On his side, one hand surrounded her breast, while his tongue ran beneath the curve of her chest. His other hand snuck up her thigh, passing in between her legs to feel the heat. Even through the fabric, she was hot; the groan her unleashed on her skin caused a chain reaction, moving Sara to emit her own, deep moan.
Fracturing apart a bit, he lost some of his control, abandoned her skin to sit up and quickly divest her of her pants.”Oh jesus,” came his plea and he met her gaze for a fraction of a second before he settled down between her legs, inhaling her scent.
Breath hitching in her throat, she waited for him to act, but for one moment longer, he just looked, dragged the tip of his nose against her clit. When he pulled back and licked her delicately, the air whoosed out of her lungs like a typhoon. Receiving the reaction he had hope for, Grissom grinned and ran his tongue up the seam of her sex more forcefully.
Sara’s hands fisted the bedspread, tugged at his hair, pulled at her nipples.
When he lips encircled her clit, she bucked into his mouth, almost dislodging him, but he held fast. Strong hands slid up her thighs, settling at the juncture of leg and torso as he continued to stroke her pussy with the flat of his tongue.
A long sigh escaped him; he’d waited weeks, days, all night for this; goddamned if it wasn’t worth all those minutes thinking about it.
A hand abandoned the skin of her hip and moved to slide inside of her.
“Oh, okay, jesus fuck, Gil,” Eyes snapping open, she moved to rest on her elbows, glancing down at him. “Gonna make me come,” she groaned and fell back against the pillows defeated.
How could this woman make such an activity so fun for him; he loved doing it, loved eating her out, loved hearing the sounds she made, loved the way she yanked on his hair, cussed, asked for more. And he loved doing it all for her, loved the way she came against his lips, kissed him afterwards, tasting herself.
Curling his fingers upward, Grissom began stroked her harder, taking short swiped over her clit before suckling on the tiny nub. Her breathing hiccoughed, chest heaving and he felt her tighten around him. A feral smile spreading across his lips, he looked up at her as he added a third finger and sucked deliberately, lewdly, loudly at her.
That did it; she tensed and emitted a long stream of “Ohhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Gillllll…” Coming around him, he didn’t bother stopping, continuing to stroke and lave at her with a more-than-eager tongue.
As the tremors subsided and she began to regain her breath, he slid his fingers out of her; moving up her body, he offered the digits to her, which she sucked on lazily. “Hon, no way I’m… I have no bones,” Sara smiled as she placed a tiny kiss on the pad of each finger. “I’m sorry.”
Grissom smiled, hand sliding down to grasp his cock. “Perfectly alright, honey.” Leaning in, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I won’t keep you up if I take care of this,” he added with a growl and a wink. Hand sliding quickly over himself, he watched as her eyes went wide.
And she watched.
Neither of them had noticed the cell phone that had been thrown to the floor during the fray, open.
Back at C.S.I. headquarters, Ronnie placed her cell phone carefully back in her pocket; mouth slack, eyes glazed and wide, she moved to slump into a chair at the break room table.
Greg whirled into the room, bag of coffee in hand. “Is Sara coming?”
Distractedly, Ronnie looked out the clear glass windows to the hallway of the lab. “She already did,” the girl said, horrified.
“Huh?” Greg was too busy adding anew filter to the machine to understand what she had said.
Snapping from her reverie, Ronnie looked over at her partner on the case. “No, I uh, I couldn’t get a hold of her.”
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