*Warning, rated 'Kinky!' By Jack O'Neill himself....* ~ A pure adult read...child may read over your shoulder...
Title: How to draw *the* line...or *a* line.
Author: Athena.
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Content Warnings: HUMOUR! Major suggestive innuendo!
Pairings: Slight SJ
Spoilers: Heroes. JACK POV-ish...not really...
Season: Eight.
Rating: R?? Very, very suggestive...maybe NC17, if so SORRY
Summary: It's all a bit too much for the poor guy...being the eye of her indulgence.
Author's notes: Enjoy, read through BUT NOT BETA'D
Archive: Anywhere. I'm my own publicist.
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. I know this.
-------------------------------------------
How to draw *the* line...or *a* line.
---------------------------------------------------
It's all a bit too much for the poor guy...being the eye of her indulgence.
----------------------------------------------------
In his seemingly 'older' age, it had just occurred to one Jack O'Neill that he still wasn't completely used to this whole *new* scenario.
Freedom, no strings attached, rules or guidelines. Just utter self-control...Or else complete 'lack of same'. For starters, he wasn't used to the way *she* looked at him suggestively over the commissary table when the four of them sat down at lunch. Even though Generals were generally supposed to be regal and solitary souls during lunch hours, Jack still took it upon his daily routine to eat with the rest of Sg-1, and exclaim that he was *still* a remaining member of the team, just...tardier than usual. However despite his newly appointed rank, he still could seem to keep a check on the old libido.
Not that *she* was helping.
Everyday, he would endure forty-five minutes of semi-complacent agony, and strained facial expressions as she swallowed seductively, lips would quiver as she devoured her muffin. Then slurping her coffee, making extra sure that she used her lips on the rim of the mug and as much tongue - or so it seemed - to aggravate him she would always continue, until completely satisfied that she has successfully gotten through to the man in question. This had continued, and to this day had led to the heated crescendo whereby Jack could NOW not eat a single breakfast *just* because she made it a job of hers to remind him of the one thing that she liked to do when they weren't at work.
To *him*.
With *him*.
Off of *him*.
After All, one thing that her teammates were not aware of, and are still not aware of, is that Major Samantha Carter has a sweet tooth. In the very unconventional sense, Carter loved.... whipped cream.
Lots of it, all over the damn place.
Very god damn messy...
When it first happened, they had been goofing around; she'd grabbed the offending canister and several other things for mostly him to endure,
"Carter? What is all that?"
And for her, to have her cake...and choke on it willingly...
"Toys. Lots and lots of toys."
"For Me? Or...for you?"
Intrepid humor and mixed fear bared itself in the reserve of his voice as he laid staring at the tray of.... well, 'blinding torture'. After all Jack O'Neill did *not* like to be out of control very often, and many of the few times he had been out of control, were completely 100 percent for her own benefit. But This? Spread out for him like wanton bed-torture...two of his biggest weakness lay before him in their purest embodiment: Naked Samantha Carter and Food.
"Sam. You're evil. You realize that?"
"No." She corrected, leaning into him. "I'm horny."
The whole two hours had been in turn...well, interesting to say the least; having never scoured over the theme of 'Carter-Sex and Food combined therapy' and in turn feeling slightly like a scientific malpractice, he *did* at first feel slightly nervous. Having never dealt with this much Carter and fresh produce in his bed, he felt at a loss as to where his control was existant right now.
"Just relax, General."
And eventually he did. And god.... did he ever. In fact, by the time she gotten handy with the 'Can-O-whip', the evilly playful side of her had surfaced, and she'd even taken to drawing on certain things....
"Is that a...star?" He looked down at her quizzically.
"No. It's a donkey.
"Please get drawing lessons..."
Pausing, she looked at him innocently, wiping away and trace of humor. "It's not how you draw.... it's how *well* you rub out that matters the most."
Five minutes later:
"You don't know how true that statement is..."
Leaving everything else to the imagination, it brings us back to the following morning after *that* night, and current present.
See in mind: General Jack O'Neill and company in Commissary for their ritual breakfast.
No Carter as of yet.
"So guys, how's it going?" He gargled through this cereal. He tended to be like that.
"Okay," Daniel, on his left was the first to reply, simply because Teal'c never said a word during his favorite time of the day, and could usually be found underneath a mounting pile of fruit. "Got a long day...they have these Tibetan-like artifacts that need cataloguing and I'm just the bored guy to do it."
"No missions?"
"Not until Thursday, then we've got a 'biggy'. Something about mines and other interesting things." Clearly Daniel was just having-
"One of those days?"
"Yep. It sure is. And I'm supposed to meeting Sarah this evening. She doesn't know I'm off on Thursday."
"Ouch. I have all these meet-y things booked up for the next couple of days. Very 'yada yada'. Teal'c?"
The Jaffa batted a hand away and continued to chew, working his fingers at the top of the mound in front of him.
"So how's life as a General?"
"Same as yesterday." Not that Jack wasn't enjoying this whole 'ruler of the base' malarkey, but sometimes it just seemed easier with a 'the less control the better' policy. He wasn't used to all of the power and responsibly.
"Cool."
"Yes, Daniel. Cool is the word..."
" ...Oh, there's Sam."
"Morning guys,"
All three occupants looked up at Sam, smiling and fresh as morning dew, with a book under one arm and her hands clasped down on either side of her breakfast tray as she sat opposite Jack.
Contents: Banana, a donut and a cup of coffee.
Oh shit, were his eyes deceiving him? Was that...? Whipped cream?
Piled high on top of the coffee, was a tall thick swirl of white, fluffy whipped cream, which tilted to one side, as the warmth took the legs from under it, making it double over slightly. The hussy....
"Morning Carter..." He reply carefully, eyes narrowing, and accentuating every syllable as his back straightened, the notion that the breakfast on this morn had a little more significance playing in his mind. Perhaps more than it should have in a work environment... "Whipped Cream Major? At this time in the morning?"
"You of all people *know* I like whipped cream, General." The lines slid up her throat and out of her mouth, accompanied with a wry smile not unlike his.
"Indeed."
Daniel and Teal'c shared a look as they continued to look inconspicuous and uninterested in the subtext that went with Sam and Jack's odd conversation. Daniel turned to Sam who had her gaze firmly planted in Jacks as she slowly scooped her finger through the offending whipped cream and placed it in her mouth with a slight moan wanting to escape her lips. Jack meanwhile, sat, jaw tightened, trying desperately not to be intimidated by her feminine tie over his psyche.
"So, Sam? We were going to...uh, what I mean is...both Teal'c and I were thinking...Sam?"
"Yes?"
"We were thinking that we could all get together for uh, dinner..." His tone wavered and the crease between the curve of his glasses deepened. "Sam?"
"I like to eat in." She took great delight in presenting her answer towards Jack instead of Daniel.
"Right." It took only a second for Daniel to grasp the missing piece of the conversation. The frown increased. "Guys, is their something we should know?"
Both parties stared at him for a second, neither flinched nor looked back at one another. Finally, Jack spoke with a smug awareness and his eyes floated back to Sam.
"Carter likes to play with her food."
Sam squared at him other the table.
"The General *likes* it."
"Bitch."
"You two are SO gross."
-------------------------------
Feed back, would be very much encouraged.
Athena
Title: How to draw *the* line...or *a* line.
Author: Athena.
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Content Warnings: HUMOUR! Major suggestive innuendo!
Pairings: Slight SJ
Spoilers: Heroes. JACK POV-ish...not really...
Season: Eight.
Rating: R?? Very, very suggestive...maybe NC17, if so SORRY
Summary: It's all a bit too much for the poor guy...being the eye of her indulgence.
Author's notes: Enjoy, read through BUT NOT BETA'D
Archive: Anywhere. I'm my own publicist.
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. I know this.
-------------------------------------------
How to draw *the* line...or *a* line.
---------------------------------------------------
It's all a bit too much for the poor guy...being the eye of her indulgence.
----------------------------------------------------
In his seemingly 'older' age, it had just occurred to one Jack O'Neill that he still wasn't completely used to this whole *new* scenario.
Freedom, no strings attached, rules or guidelines. Just utter self-control...Or else complete 'lack of same'. For starters, he wasn't used to the way *she* looked at him suggestively over the commissary table when the four of them sat down at lunch. Even though Generals were generally supposed to be regal and solitary souls during lunch hours, Jack still took it upon his daily routine to eat with the rest of Sg-1, and exclaim that he was *still* a remaining member of the team, just...tardier than usual. However despite his newly appointed rank, he still could seem to keep a check on the old libido.
Not that *she* was helping.
Everyday, he would endure forty-five minutes of semi-complacent agony, and strained facial expressions as she swallowed seductively, lips would quiver as she devoured her muffin. Then slurping her coffee, making extra sure that she used her lips on the rim of the mug and as much tongue - or so it seemed - to aggravate him she would always continue, until completely satisfied that she has successfully gotten through to the man in question. This had continued, and to this day had led to the heated crescendo whereby Jack could NOW not eat a single breakfast *just* because she made it a job of hers to remind him of the one thing that she liked to do when they weren't at work.
To *him*.
With *him*.
Off of *him*.
After All, one thing that her teammates were not aware of, and are still not aware of, is that Major Samantha Carter has a sweet tooth. In the very unconventional sense, Carter loved.... whipped cream.
Lots of it, all over the damn place.
Very god damn messy...
When it first happened, they had been goofing around; she'd grabbed the offending canister and several other things for mostly him to endure,
"Carter? What is all that?"
And for her, to have her cake...and choke on it willingly...
"Toys. Lots and lots of toys."
"For Me? Or...for you?"
Intrepid humor and mixed fear bared itself in the reserve of his voice as he laid staring at the tray of.... well, 'blinding torture'. After all Jack O'Neill did *not* like to be out of control very often, and many of the few times he had been out of control, were completely 100 percent for her own benefit. But This? Spread out for him like wanton bed-torture...two of his biggest weakness lay before him in their purest embodiment: Naked Samantha Carter and Food.
"Sam. You're evil. You realize that?"
"No." She corrected, leaning into him. "I'm horny."
The whole two hours had been in turn...well, interesting to say the least; having never scoured over the theme of 'Carter-Sex and Food combined therapy' and in turn feeling slightly like a scientific malpractice, he *did* at first feel slightly nervous. Having never dealt with this much Carter and fresh produce in his bed, he felt at a loss as to where his control was existant right now.
"Just relax, General."
And eventually he did. And god.... did he ever. In fact, by the time she gotten handy with the 'Can-O-whip', the evilly playful side of her had surfaced, and she'd even taken to drawing on certain things....
"Is that a...star?" He looked down at her quizzically.
"No. It's a donkey.
"Please get drawing lessons..."
Pausing, she looked at him innocently, wiping away and trace of humor. "It's not how you draw.... it's how *well* you rub out that matters the most."
Five minutes later:
"You don't know how true that statement is..."
Leaving everything else to the imagination, it brings us back to the following morning after *that* night, and current present.
See in mind: General Jack O'Neill and company in Commissary for their ritual breakfast.
No Carter as of yet.
"So guys, how's it going?" He gargled through this cereal. He tended to be like that.
"Okay," Daniel, on his left was the first to reply, simply because Teal'c never said a word during his favorite time of the day, and could usually be found underneath a mounting pile of fruit. "Got a long day...they have these Tibetan-like artifacts that need cataloguing and I'm just the bored guy to do it."
"No missions?"
"Not until Thursday, then we've got a 'biggy'. Something about mines and other interesting things." Clearly Daniel was just having-
"One of those days?"
"Yep. It sure is. And I'm supposed to meeting Sarah this evening. She doesn't know I'm off on Thursday."
"Ouch. I have all these meet-y things booked up for the next couple of days. Very 'yada yada'. Teal'c?"
The Jaffa batted a hand away and continued to chew, working his fingers at the top of the mound in front of him.
"So how's life as a General?"
"Same as yesterday." Not that Jack wasn't enjoying this whole 'ruler of the base' malarkey, but sometimes it just seemed easier with a 'the less control the better' policy. He wasn't used to all of the power and responsibly.
"Cool."
"Yes, Daniel. Cool is the word..."
" ...Oh, there's Sam."
"Morning guys,"
All three occupants looked up at Sam, smiling and fresh as morning dew, with a book under one arm and her hands clasped down on either side of her breakfast tray as she sat opposite Jack.
Contents: Banana, a donut and a cup of coffee.
Oh shit, were his eyes deceiving him? Was that...? Whipped cream?
Piled high on top of the coffee, was a tall thick swirl of white, fluffy whipped cream, which tilted to one side, as the warmth took the legs from under it, making it double over slightly. The hussy....
"Morning Carter..." He reply carefully, eyes narrowing, and accentuating every syllable as his back straightened, the notion that the breakfast on this morn had a little more significance playing in his mind. Perhaps more than it should have in a work environment... "Whipped Cream Major? At this time in the morning?"
"You of all people *know* I like whipped cream, General." The lines slid up her throat and out of her mouth, accompanied with a wry smile not unlike his.
"Indeed."
Daniel and Teal'c shared a look as they continued to look inconspicuous and uninterested in the subtext that went with Sam and Jack's odd conversation. Daniel turned to Sam who had her gaze firmly planted in Jacks as she slowly scooped her finger through the offending whipped cream and placed it in her mouth with a slight moan wanting to escape her lips. Jack meanwhile, sat, jaw tightened, trying desperately not to be intimidated by her feminine tie over his psyche.
"So, Sam? We were going to...uh, what I mean is...both Teal'c and I were thinking...Sam?"
"Yes?"
"We were thinking that we could all get together for uh, dinner..." His tone wavered and the crease between the curve of his glasses deepened. "Sam?"
"I like to eat in." She took great delight in presenting her answer towards Jack instead of Daniel.
"Right." It took only a second for Daniel to grasp the missing piece of the conversation. The frown increased. "Guys, is their something we should know?"
Both parties stared at him for a second, neither flinched nor looked back at one another. Finally, Jack spoke with a smug awareness and his eyes floated back to Sam.
"Carter likes to play with her food."
Sam squared at him other the table.
"The General *likes* it."
"Bitch."
"You two are SO gross."
-------------------------------
Feed back, would be very much encouraged.
Athena