Doctor's Orders
Grissom might have a hard time following doctor's orders but Sara is going to help all she can.
This is my submission for the GSRForeverOnline Smut Fest 2011. My prompts were candle wax, beads and feathers. As you will soon find, I couldn't decide between this story and another idea I had, so I wrote both. This one is complete at four chapterst, the other one, using the same prompts but a very different storyline is a one-shot. Enjoy!
Chapter One
Grissom's cell went off, indicating he was getting a text and he looked apologetically at his students who were listening to his lecture at UNLV. He had been back in Las Vegas for over six months and began his new position at the university a few weeks prior to today, but he had already taken off at least twice so he could go to the clinic. All the other appointments were made on his days off. The last two were unavoidable.
"Hey, Dr. Grissom," commented a girl who sat in the front of the class with at least three tattoos along her leg and one large one displayed across the bosom she liked to reveal whenever possible. "I thought you said no texting in class."
"I did, didn't I?" He glanced at her then back to the phone. "But, I also said I'd allow it if it were an emergency."
"Can you "prove" it's an emergency?" The girl asked with a smirk and he simply smiled back before turning away to read the message displayed on his phone.
"I'LL BE THERE IN 30. BE READY AND DON'T GIVE ME ANY EXCUSES ABOUT SOME STUPID CLASS. DOCTOR'S ORDERS!"
"Um—no." He looked back at her as he closed his phone. "But you'll forgive me if I cut class short today, won't you?"
"How short?" She eyed him suspiciously.
"Thirty more minutes is all I can manage today."
This earned him a wide smile from the girl as well as some affirmative voices from around her. "You cut the class that short and I don't care if you text everyday!"
He smiled back at her and went on. He had planned on giving them an hour at the end of class to work on their assignments, but they could just as easily do it in their dorms and email him with any questions.
He noticed the brunette pacing outside his door when he still had another five minutes of class left, so he tried to speed up a bit. Another three minutes and the students were getting up from their desks but two students straggled behind. He began to worry when he saw the expression on the person's face whom was still in the hall waiting for him. For their own safety, he better get these two students out—now.
"Dr. Grissom, I'm not going to be here next week—can I hand in my assignment the night before class and get any work I might miss the next day?"
He looked at the dark-haired girl who was watching him very closely but he glanced back at the other person in the hall. "Yes—yes, that's fine."
He started to put his things in his case but another student approached him.
"Dr. Grissom, if I hand in next week's assignment late, how much is it going to affect my grade?" The short, red-haired boy stared at him.
"Depends on how late. Now, if you'll excuse me. . ."
He thrust the rest of his belongings in his case and walked out of the room where he came face-to-face with the person waiting for him. He grasped onto her upper arm and ushered her at a hurried rate to the nearest door and pushed her inside. He moved to put his case on the desk and turned when he heard the lock click on the door. The sight of this tall brunette unbuttoning her blouse as she walked toward him sent chills down his spine. If he got caught it would surely cost him his position at the university. The talk that would get out would shock his friends at the lab. But still, as he looked at those chocolate eyes watching him so closely and then the way her tongue slid across her lip before she stepped up to him and repeated the procedure over his mouth, he quickly lost interest in the consequences of his actions as her hand went immediately to his belt and slid down the front of his pants where she squeezed him.
"Oh," she murmured as she slid her other hand to the front of him and started unbuckling his belt. "Looks like someone's waking up."
"Wait," he objected. "Don't you think this is rushing it a bit?"
She pulled back and looked at him. "I've known you for over a decade. I've been sleeping with you for over "half" a decade. We've been married for over two years—and we've been trying to get pregnant for the last six months! No! I don't think I'm rushing it!"
"No, that isn't what I mean." He looked at the door. "What if someone comes in?"
"Gilbert! I locked the door! Now get your damned pants off!"
She unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down his zipper then shoved his pants down over his hips, exposing his flesh in all its glory. She gave a throaty chuckle as she opened her own pants and pushed them down her thighs. She sat on the edge of the desk and looked at him as he started pulling on her pant legs.
"What?" He asked as he tugged.
"My shoes—my shoes. Take off my shoes first."
"Oh." First one shoe was placed neatly on the floor but when he slowly started pulling off the other she took it from him and tossed it to the side, resulting in crashing of glass. "Sara! That was my framed moth collection!"
"The hell with your moths. We're working on something else right now. Pants, Gilbert—pants."
"Shouldn't there be some kind of preliminary—attentions made?" He asked as he pulled the pants off her legs. "Would you like me to. . ."
"I—I guess so."
"Well, what would you like?"
"I don't know. Be imaginative!"
"Sara—just how much more imaginative can I get? My god! I'm planning to make love to you on my desk—in my office—in the university—in the middle of thousands of students!"
"Well, if you don't stop talking, we'll both be putting in for Social Security and neither of us will have to worry about getting pregnant!"
"Sara! I need a little time here." He moves up between her legs then glances back toward the door. "Jesus, what if someone knocks."
"You'll tell them you didn't hear them. Here." She grabs his hand and puts it on her breast. "Touch these. They always get you in the mood."
"But maybe you should be lying flat. You know, that way the sperm can get to the egg easier."
"Oh." She looked at him then looked around the room. "Should we do it on the floor?"
"I don't want to get down on the floor. The tile's cold."
"Then clean off your desk." She started shoving the things over the edge of his large wooden desk.
"Sara! For Chrissakes! Couldn't I have simply "moved" all of that? Did you have to throw it on the floor?"
"Grissom," she said slowly as she grabbed his lapels. "We have "got" to do this right now! The time is right. My temperature is right. It's doctor's orders, dammit!"
"Okay. Fine." He looked down at her.
"Now what's wrong?"
"I think I heard something."
"Alright, that's it."
She reached over and pulled him against her, covering his mouth with hers then sliding her tongue along his lips until he parted them. She thrust her tongue inside, massaging and teasing him just the way he liked and soon he was leaning into the kiss and responding forcefully. His hands worked over her breasts then down to her hips as he positioned himself at her center.
"You ready?" He breathed.
"Oh, yeah!" She spread her legs farther then stopped. "No! Wait! Stop!"
"What's wrong?"
"My foot's stuck in your damned chair!"
"Oh." He turned around and freed her foot, then stepped between her legs again. "Now?"
"Now."
"Lay back." She did as he suggested but grabbed his hands in a panic. "What's wrong now?"
"My head's hanging off the other side of the desk. I don't like it. All the blood's going to rush into my brain and I'm liable to pass out."
"Fine," he breathed as he pushed her until she was lying across the desk the other way, cringing as she knocked more of his things on the floor. "I still think we should have your hips elevated."
"With what?"
"Here." He opened his desk drawer and grabbed a small pillow with the words "Nature's Beauty" written across it and a series of butterflies spread throughout.
"What was it doing in there?" She asked with a raised brow. "I bought that for you—and you stuff it in the back of your desk?"
"It—uh—well," he stammered as he yanked on it but it refused to budge, evidently caught on something inside the drawer. "It's a little feminine, don't you think? I mean—if it would've been grasshoppers or roaches or something, it wouldn't have seemed so—feminine."
"But I thought you loved butterflies."
"I do!" He assured her. "But I don't need a feminine-type pillow out for eighteen-year-old kids to see." He gave another hard yank and heard it rip, sending a puff of feathers into the air as he looked at his wife in horror. "Oops. I'm sorry! I loved it! I really did!"
The feathers floated around Sara and landed on her blouse and hair then several made their way to her face, instigating a hearty sneeze. He put what was left of the pillow beneath her hips.
"Okay, here goes. Cross your fingers."
"Oh, you sweet talker, you."
He pressed inside of her, moaning at the exquisite sensations washing over him. She lifted her legs and he grabbed them beneath her knees as he moved within her. He looked down at her and didn't think he had ever witnessed anything as beautiful as his wife as he made love to her. He could look at her all day and never get bored with her beauty. She looked back, watching him as her lips parted, exposing that gorgeous gap between her teeth. Then almost as if reading his mind, she reached for his hand and pulled it to her mouth where she inserted his finger and wrapped her tongue around it, sucked it, and nipped at it. The sensation and sight was nearly as erotic as what she was representing. He used his other hand to reach down to her brown curls and found the hard bead he was searching for. Each stroke intensified the tightness he was feeling in his body. He leaned over her and removed his finger, taking hold of her face instead as his lips met hers. He licked at her until she opened her mouth and she sucked his tongue inside. He allowed her to take over the kiss as he grabbed onto her hips and ground himself inside her velvety sheath. Soon, the thought of what the reasoning behind their mating dissipated and his only concern was the soft body beneath his as he plunged within its depths.
"Sara, honey, you are the sweetest thing I've ever known." His strokes built in power, just the way she liked as she pressed herself against him.
"Gil," she breathed against his mouth. "God, I love you."
He knew he wasn't going to last long and knew it would be best if she found her release also so he stroked her, moving faster as he came closer to his own climax then as she arched her back and he could feel her spasms squeezing him, he erupted deep within her.
He rested as he leaned over her until he caught his breath then turned and kissed her exposed breast and lifted himself as he looked down at her.
"You're beautiful."
"I love you, Gilbert Grissom."