Sam looked up from the briefing report before her and smiled in Daniel's direction. The man was her friend, practically a brother, but good God could he prattle on and on about a topic. She leaned forward to make a notation in the margin and subconsciously massaged her temple. She hadn't been this bored since Grad school.
Glancing across the table she noticed that even Teal'c's glazed over expression seemed to indicate that he was zoning out. She wondered if he ever Kel-no-reemed while she was giving a lecture during a briefing. And if Teal'c was zoning, oh, great, she thought, turning her head slightly to notice Jack nodding off.
The man was sleeping.
Sleeping.
In the middle of one of Daniel's briefings.
Ugh.
The only one who seemed to be paying attention to Daniel at all – aside from Daniel that is – was General Hammond.
Carefully, so as not to arouse attention, Sam shifted in her seat and tapped Jack's right knee with her left hand.
No reaction.
Cupping her hand around his entire kneecap she squeezed carefully.
Nothing.
What would it take for the man to wake up?
Moving her hand up slightly higher, to just above the knee, Sam scratched her nails along the fabric there.
Jack's eyes opened.
Well, Hallelujah, the man was alive, she thought, rolling her eyes.
Casually, as if trying to hide from everyone in the room the fact that he'd been sleeping, Jack glanced over in her direction and waggled an eyebrow suggestively.
She shook her head slightly returning her focus to the report before her. She had been spending way too much time around Jack O'Neill. Shifting again, she went to remove her hand, only to feel Jack's hand clasp her wrist and move her hand a bit higher on his leg.
She sat there for a moment, unmoving, while Jack shifted in his seat, moving closer to her. When he was finished with his maneuvers he sat there, watching Daniel as if he were the most captivating person alive. It was so surreal she could barely stifle her giggle.
For a brief second she doubted the intelligence behind her actions, then she decided that at times you just had to say 'to hell with it.'
Oh, yeah, definitely been hanging around Jack O'Neill too much.
She started by slowly moving her pointer finger in geometric shapes across the top of his leg, beginning with circles, moving to squares, figure eights, and throwing the occasional heart in there for good measure. After that, she moved on to words. It could be anything really, a word that she caught of what Daniel said in the lecture, something from the report in front of her, the name of her cat, any one of a hundred words that came from her knowledge of theoretical astrophysics.
The title of one of her most used text books seemed to work the best. At least it caused Jack to shift slightly uncomfortably in his seat.
For another moment she wondered just how far she was willing to take this. After all, they were in the briefing room, while Daniel was giving a rather tedious briefing on an important mission that they were going to be departing for in less than eight hours. It wouldn't exactly be the best or most appropriate time and place to have Jack literally in the palm of her hand.
Her hand moved up and cupped him through his BDUs, feeling his length, his strength and hardness pushing firmly against the restraining clothing.
Yeah, even if the meeting ended now, Jack would be sitting here for a while.
Sam blushed slightly, not believing that she was even considering this in such a public place. She moved her hand up and down briefly, putting pressure behind it, stroking his full form. Watching as Jack swallowed hard, and she could imagine the groan that he'd had to squelch.
Next, she moved to tracing shapes along his length, smiling as he shifted his hips to make sure more of her hand connected with him as she varied the pressure behind each stroke. She watched as his eyes dipped closed at times, he'd catch his breath, and then attempt to regulate his breathing again.
His eyes widened when she slowly, quietly, lowered the zipper on his pants, gently sliding her hand inside. The skin on skin contact nearly made him groan, and he discretely covered it with a cough. Daniel's eyes focused on Jack, and Sam could only look down at the report in front of her and jot something in the margin to avoid from turning maroon.
Daniel was staring at Jack. The General was looking at Jack. And her hand was currently down his pants firmly encased around his…
Oh, my, God. I'm going to die.
Daniel continued on in his lecture. Nothing about what Jack had said to them registered; she was too absorbed in her own casual innocence. Nothing at all registered in fact, until she felt Jack arch his hips slightly into her hand, then instinct took over.
Carefully, given the close quarters, she wrapped her thumb and middle finger around his shaft, gripping firmly, but not too tightly. His eyes closed contentedly and she smiled shyly as her hand began to move – up, down, up/twist, down, up, down/twist.
She continued her movements, trying to vary the rhythm and speed as much as she could. Occasionally, as she reached the top, she would squeeze it a little tighter, almost pinching, and she'd feel his legs shake slightly in response.
Moving forward slightly in her chair she watched him watch her out of the corner of his eye as she moved her thumb along the prominent vein that traversed his length. She made sure to pay it extra attention, pausing and dipping her hand a little lower, further, to stroke the sensitive folds of his scrotum.
Jack's hips bucked slightly and his legs quivered. She could tell he was close, very close. Her fingers continued to tease as a rather satisfied smile spread across her face. Sam could feel him tensing, feel him trying to hold back, feel him hesitate as if he was having second thoughts.
His hand reached over and gripped her knee as his legs and hips quivered, his eyes tightly shut, his jaw clenched as his release ran through him.
Sam felt the warm flood overrun her hand and the satisfied smirk cleared her face.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. Now what the hell was she supposed to do?