BEAUTY, GRISSOM, REMEMBER?

Sara lay on their bed, watching Grissom dress. He had his back to her, because she was completely nude, her legs splayed behind her, feet on the pillows, and she was watching him. If he turned around he knew he was done for. He'd strip off his clothes and pounce on her. Take her, ravish her, fuck her so hard she would walk sideways for a week. And he had to get to work at some point.

Sara watched her lover dress with quiet contentment. It felt so domestic, watching him pad around the bedroom, pick out a shirt, choose a pair of socks…

"Grissom?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you always wear those baggy pants?"

"They're comfortable."

"They can't be that comfortable. You could fit me in there too and still need a belt."

Grissom thought of her legs and ass inside his pants, him behind her, grinding his prick against the crack of her ass…then shook those thoughts away.

"I've had them for a long time," he explained. "I don't like shopping."

"I know, you've had them as long as I've been here. Six, no seven years."

"That's not a coincidence." He hid his smirk, but she heard it in his voice.

"Oh? Wait. Why?"

"Well, six or seven years ago, this beautiful woman walked back into my life. I saw her lovely face every day, and sometimes we were alone…and I couldn't help imagining we were really alone."

"And that got you…aroused."

"Yes."

"Hard."

"Yes."

"Erect."

"I think you get the idea. And since it happened so often at a crime scene, or in the lab with all the glass walls, or when you just walked by, or smiled at me, or I saw you concentrating, with the tip of your pink tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth…"

"You would get a hard on. How often?"

"I didn't keep a chart. Couple times a week, at work. At home? The same. Every time I fantasized about you; every time I took a shower, I'd have to jerk off. I pretty much got a callus on my hand."

"So you started to wear baggy pants to hide your…"

"Raging hard on. Yes."

"I'm flattered. But, you know," Sara sighed. "It was difficult for me too. Every time you looked at me with that softness in your eyes. Every time I stood so close to you that I could smell your scent. Feel the brush of your hand. I would feel that throbbing, aching need. And yes, I had to…satisfy myself at home, thinking about you. I could just conceal it more easily than a man."

"True."

They both thought for a moment.

"Gris?"

"Why do you wear those long sleeved shirts, all buttoned up?"

"Why are you so interested in my wardrobe?"

"Because you have a beautiful body."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do. Why hide it? Why cover up? You might as well be wearing a burka."

"That's actually a good point. Those who live in deserts wear long flowing clothing because it keeps the body cooler. It acts like a sunshade."

"True, but they don't wear pants."

"I can't really go out in the field in a burnoose." They both laughed at the image.

"Nick and Warrick and Greg wear clothes that fit. They complement their bodies, not conceal them. And Catherine…her pants are so tight she looks like she's about to burst."

"Sara," he said warningly, "Play nice."

"You're right. Sorry. I just see all these women around you, shoving their cleavage in your face, wiggling their asses, and I get…jealous."

"I get jealous too. When you're wearing one of your tank tops, so snug against your body. Your pants, hugging your hips and accentuating your long slim legs. And I see the men drooling over you, preening, trying to get you to notice them. It makes me crazy."

"And women don't swoon over you? You should hear what they say."

"I don't want to know. I want you. I desire you, and you only. They flirt, sure, and it's flattering, but…you are mine and I don't share."

"I don't share either. It's just that…I like to see you. I like to look at your beautiful body."

"Sara. I have a middle-aged man's body. Tubby around the middle. Double chin. Wrinkles. Hair going grey, and not just on my head."

"Grissom. Listen. Look at me."

Grissom turned around, feeling self-conscious.

"You have a beautiful body. Come here." Sara threw on a robe and dragged him to the full length mirror in the bathroom and stood behind him.

"Look at yourself. Look at your handsome face. Your deep blue eyes. That cleft in your chin. Strong jaw. Thick soft hair in natural curls."

She stroked his face and hair.

"That's the first thing I fell in love with." He kissed her hands.

"Look at your strong neck. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, incredible hands. So strong, but so gentle. Hardworking hands, but soft and sensitive. Your chest, broad and masculine. I love how it looks and feels."

She ran her fingers along his upper body.

"Your heart. That's the second thing I fell in love with." She put her hands on his chest and felt the steady beat.

He sighed and leaned back against her.

"Your waist? It's soft, but the rest of you is so muscled and hard, it makes you seem…approachable. Touchable. Squeezable." She demonstrated. He chuckled.

"Your slim hips, how your body tapers, your big beautiful cock. Long and thick. Well endowed. Your heavy balls. Perfection." He blushed.

"And your ass is a thing of beauty. Shapely and round and firm; soft as velvet to the touch. God I love your ass. That's why I don't like those baggy pants; I can't see the sweet curve of your ass."

She ran the palms of her hands down the small of his back to his thighs. He groaned.

"And you have amazing legs. The legs of an athlete. The long muscles in your thighs. And your calf muscles? Sculpted. Defined. Heavenly. You even have nice feet."

Sara stroked down his legs and back up.

"Every part of you is beautiful, Gil. I desire you, your whole body. You look like a sculpture."

"Sara," he growled, his hard dick tenting his baggy pants.

"No, I mean it. Hasn't a woman ever told you how beautiful you are?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Well, not never. Sometimes they'd say they liked my eyes or my build…but never in such detail."

"They must have been blind," Sara said with amazement. He turned and faced her.

"No, I think…I think they didn't see the whole me, the way you do. You're going to make me vain."

She laughed. "I doubt that. All your life, you've felt you didn't measure up to some standard of beauty?"

"I suppose."

"Welcome to my world. When I was growing up I was gawky and too tall. Gap toothed. Shy. Awkward. If anyone told me I was pretty it was just so they could get in my pants. So I didn't believe them."

He nodded.

"And now, look at me. Surrounded by showgirls. Strippers. Dancers. Models. Blondes with big boobs. So I still don't measure up."

"Honey, you're far more beautiful than any girl in Vegas. Any other girl in the world. They don't hold a candle to you."

"Thank you." She kissed him.

"Gil, I…I never felt beautiful before I met you. You make me feel beautiful, the way you look at me."

"I look at you that way because you are beautiful, Sara. Breathtaking. Stunning. Desirable."

"Thank you," she breathed. "I want you to feel as good about yourself as I do. I want you to know what I see when I look at you. My beautiful, strong, handsome, brilliant, sexy, man."

"Then I believe you. If you tell me so. You're so honest."

They kissed lovingly.

"Gil?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Want to know what else I fell in love with?"

"How can I stop you? I feel like swaggering, and pounding my chest." She giggled.

He did a Tarzan yell, and she laughed.

"Okay," she counted off on her fingers. "One, handsome face. Two, beautiful body. Three, loving heart. Four, brilliant mind. Five, your deep expressive voice. Six, the way you smell, musky and male. And seven, oh yes, mindblowing in the sack."

He pulled her tight and let his hands roam.

"The way you touch me, Gil. How your kiss sets me on fire. The way you fuck me. The way you make love to me. You're a fantastic, incredible, passionate lover."

"Only because you make me into one, Sara. I've never been…never felt this way with a woman. How your touch excites me. How good you make me feel. How hard and hot and longing. How good I feel inside you, in your hot tight pussy. In your mouth. Making me come. Burying my face in your wetness. Hearing and feeling your moans when you come for me." She was moaning now. "Loving you. Feeling you love me. Oh God Sara."

Grissom pushed the terrycloth robe off her shoulders and suckled her neck. He thrust his thick finger inside her and rubbed his thumb on her clit. Sara groaned and bucked against him, while her hands stripped him of his clothing.

This was not gentle, nor slow. This was a pot boiling over. A frantic need to get close, to feel, to release. A fuckfest.

He buried his face between her breasts and sucked her nipples. She tugged his swollen cock free and dropped to her knees and sucked him, hard. He fell beside her on his back and pulled her astride him. She bucked her hips and thrust down on him until he filled her.

"Ride me baby. Ride me hard."

"My stallion. Oh yes. Fuck Gil, you feel so fucking good."

"So tight so wet for me…Fuck!"

She pumped higher and faster, her sweet breasts bouncing.

"Uhmmmm, Yes Gil…oh God so close!"

"Come for me Sara. Gonna make you come hard."

"Now! Yes, right there Yes oh god oh Gil OOOHH!" Sara threw her head back and screamed.

Grissom shot his creamy jizz into her and yelled her name in orgasm. He thrust into her, slower, and she kept pumping on him, smooth and steady. He felt himself grow hard again and flipped her over on her back. His hips swiveled and he slid out almost to the tip and slammed inside her. His dick pistoned into Sara. Her muscles clenched around him and his balls tightened.

"Touch yourself, Sara."

She slid her hand down between them and rubbed herself hard in tight circles. Sara felt the burst of pleasure between her thighs, gathering, building, exploding in a burst of white light inside her head.

Grissom felt her passion in his own loins, felt her groans of pleasure in his belly. His whole body felt tight and tense. He thrust into her twat again and again and again, muscles straining…

"Oh Sweet JESUS Oh Fuck SARA!! YESSSS!!!" His seed spurted inside her pussy as he yelled.

They moaned into each other's mouths, giving sloppy hot kisses, still panting hard, chests heaving. Both their bodies were coated in sweat and their hair plastered to their heads. Sara felt his warm come trickle out of her onto the cold tile floor. It was only then that she realized they were still in the bathroom, and the floor was hard and uncomfortable.

"That…was…beautiful."

"Like...you are."

"Not… as much…as you."

THE END