W.O.W.

By: DalWriter

1708 EST
SOUTHBOUND I-495
WASHINGTON, DC

As Harm sat alone in his Naval issue sedan stuck in traffic on the Beltway, he cursed Congresswoman Bobbi Latham for demanding that he come to her office to discuss what she perceived to be the latest abuse of taxpayer dollars by the military. She was wrong as usual and they could have concluded their business over the telephone.

From the far left lane there wasn't much of a view except the traffic flowing relatively smoothly in the other direction. Glancing to his right, he allowed himself to be pleasantly distracted by the pretty twenty something girls in the car next to him. They appeared to be looking around. Although Harm wasn't aware of it, a box truck with the letters WOW drawn in two foot high letters in the dirt across the back pulled ahead in the far right lane. Upon seeing the sign, the girls honked their car horn causing the trucker and every other motorist to look at them. Harm was shocked when for apparently no reason, the girls both pulled up their shirts and flashed their boobs to the whole world. The trucker honked and gave the girls the thumbs up out his window. Morality aside, being a red-blooded American male, and especially one who hadn't had sex in a while because Renee broke up with him after he got back from his crash, Harm did appreciate the view.

A few moments later traffic started moving again. Harm continued south to Falls Church and JAG HQ. To his utter astonishment, along the way he saw three more women flash their boobs. If this was some new trend, he certainly wasn't going to complain.

#*~*~*~*~*~

1825 EST

JAG HQ

FALLS CHURCH, VA

Whistling, Harm strode confidently into the bullpen. The work day was over and there were only a few people still milling about.

"You're in a good mood, Sir." Gunny observed, handing the Commander his stack of messages.

Waving the enlisted man to follow him into his office, Harm confided, "I had the weirdest trip back here."

"Traffic on the Beltway's murder, Sir," Gunny agreed.

Shaking his head, Harm explained, "No, that's not it." He paused, not sure exactly how to say this. "There were these women."

Gunny's eyes opened a little wider, his interest now piqued, silently imploring the senior officer to continue.

"They kept taking their tops off," Harm was grinning.

"What women?"

"In the other cars. There were about four cars in total - - just flashing everyone their tits."

Bud Roberts stuck his head in the door at that moment, "Commander," he began, "Do you have a minute to discuss the Nevander court martial with me?"

"Sure, Bud. C'mon in."

Gunny looked at Harm who did not indicate that they couldn't finish their earlier topic of conversation among the boys. "These woman, Sir, they just showed you their breasts for no reason?" Gunny knew the Commander was a handsome man and he had seen many woman throw themselves at him, but this was unreal.

Glancing at Bud, Harm confessed, "Well not really at me, just sort of at anybody who was looking - - and of course I was."

"It's the W.O.W. thing," Bud offered.

"Yeah, I was like wow."

"I would be too," Gunny agreed. "Why doesn't stuff like that ever happen to me?"

"It could," Bud said. "All you need is a bumper sticker."

"What are you talking about?" Gunny asked, breaching protocol slightly.

"It's Whip 'em Out Wednesday - - W.O.W. It's from that new radio station. If you have a sticker or just the word written on your car - - or anywhere I guess - - women are supposed to show you their breasts."

"You're kidding," Harm said. "And just how do you know this? You don't have one of those bumper stickers, do you Bud?"

"Or know how I can get one?" Gunny added.

Flustered, Bud declared, "Sir! No I don't have one!"

"Relax, Lieutenant," Harm counseled the younger officer. He was still fun to tease.

Looking at Gunny, "I think you can get one from their web site or just put a homemade sign on your car. Either will work."

"Now, if you don't have one, how do you know either will work?" Harm asked, cross-examining his protégé.

Lamely, Bud mumbled, "Harriet told me."

"Your wife?" Gunny asked shocked that the normally demure blonde would have anything to do with such bawdiness.

A slow smile spread across Harm's face and he put his hand to his mouth to hide his amusement at Bud's revelation. "You're not saying that Harriet . . . "

Without looking up, Bud nodded. Then glaring at Gunny he confessed glumly. "It was payback for Australia."

"What?!" Gunny choked.

"I handed the Lieutenant the phone. He thought he was talking to you. You put Harriet on the line and he made an unfortunate comment about all the topless women on the beach." Harm recapped the Roberts' last marital discord.

"Oh yeah," Gunny smiled. "That must have been something to see."

"It was," enthused Harm.

They had forgotten about hapless Bud until he spoke up. "She and Col. MacKenzie, they said were adults and they had nice breasts too and could show them to anybody they wanted."

"Mac," Harm nearly choked, "You've seen Mac topless?!"

Startled at the intensity of Harm's reaction, Bud stammered, "No, Sir. Well other then on the beach with you, Sir."

Gunny's eyes widened in surprise but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"She wasn't topless; she had the strings tied behind her back," Harm asserted.

"If you say so, Sir."

"SHE said so, Lieutenant. Now what about her and Harriet being topless?"

"All I know is when I came home a couple of weeks ago, Harriet told me . . . well she said something about being grown women and it being nice to know that somebody appreciated them as sexual beings, Sir."

"I appreciate . . ." Harm stopped realizing what he was about to reveal, not that everyone didn't already know. The sexual tension smoldering between the two senior lawyers was hardly a secret around the water cooler.

"Sir, are you and the Colonel. . . ?" Bud asked hopefully.

"No," replied Harm in a resigned tone. "When she called off the wedding and Renee . . . well I thought . . .maybe. . . Ah, who the hell understands women?"

All three men nodded in agreement.

"I mean if she wanted to be appreciated . . . Why didn't she just talk to me?"

"Permission to speak freely, Sir."

"Gunny, we're in my office talking about sex, I doubt it gets much free-er."

"Sir, why don't you stop treating the Colonel like a woman and start treating her like a Marine."

"That's what got me into this mess in the first place. I tried to keep it professional - - like she was a colleague, not a woman," lamented Harm.

"No, Sir. I'd show her, Sir. Don't just tell her. She's a Marine. She understands action."

Harm let Gunny's words sink in. He was a fellow Jarhard. Maybe there was something to his logic.

#*~*~*~*~*~*

1935 EST

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN

Sitting on the couch in her robe, her hair still slightly damp from her bath, Mac was listening to some light jazz and painting her toenails. Hearing a knock, she yelled, "Just a minute," and waddled over with tissue stuffed between her ties to look through the peep hole. Recognizing her visitor, Mac opened the door to her handsome partner.

Harm stood in her hallway, wearing a golf shirt tucked into tight fitting jeans holding a W.O.W. sign he had downloaded off the internet.

"You're kidding, right?" Mac asked as she looked from him to the sign and back again.

"It is Wednesday," Harm reminded her. He stepped toward her and she moved aside to let him enter.

Closing the door, Mac turned to stare at the man before her. "I know it's Wednesday. So? Were we supposed to go over a case or something? I thought you had a meeting on the Hill." She waddled back over to sit on the couch, waiting for Harm to explain himself. She so wanted to WOW him, but their communication was at an all time low. Since she ended her engagement, she felt empowered and wasn't ready to relinquish that sense of autonomy to any man - - not even Harmon Rabb, Jr.

Harm sat on the couch next to her. "I was on the Hill and I had a very interesting drive back."

Deciding to play coy, Mac asked, "Why's that?"

"Well, it seems all these woman were willing to take their shirts off right there on the beltway."

"I'm sure you got an eyeful," Mac teased.

"And an earful," Harm added.

"An earful?"

"Yes, when I got back to JAG I had a very interesting conversation with Lieutenant Roberts, who filled me in on the finer points of Whip 'em Out Wednesday and your participation in the program."

Mac blushed slightly.

Harm continued, "So here I am. Rules of the game. I have my W.O.W. sticker so . . ."

Mac rose from the couch, shocked at the proposition she just received. Pointing to the door, she ordered, "Well you can take your damn sticker and get out of my house."

Standing, Harm took a step toward her, "You can flash the whole world, just not me?! You'll show anybody your tits, but me, is that it Mac? You're some kind of an exhibitionist?"

To hear his tirade Mac felt kind of guilty. "It was a joke," she offered by way of explanation, softening her voice.

"Not to me," he was pleading with her with his eyes. "Talk to me, Sarah," Harm implored grabbing her by the upper arms. He too had stopped shouting.

At the use of her first name, Mac's head jerked up. Breaking his loose grasp, she sank down onto the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. Hugging her bent legs to her body, Mac quietly rocked back and forth.

Harm sat down next to her. He didn't touch her. He just waited, silently, willing her to talk to him.

"Harriet and I . . . we were out two Wednesday's ago."

"I remember, you took the afternoon off," Harm encouraged her to go on.

"We went shopping. Had a late lunch, we were driving back from the mall and flipping radio stations. We heard these two deejays and . . . we couldn't believe what we were hearing. Women would actually flash men they didn't know just because they had these stupid stickers. We started looking around and there were a lot of them, the stickers I mean - - more than I would have thought."

"OK," Harm wasn't sure what he was supposed to be thinking or doing.

"Well, we started talking. She was still so mad at Bud about what he said in Australia - - something about a R rated Baywatch and I told her you thought I was topless."

Harm grinned at that. He had been trying to see around the magazine.

Mac looked away. "I got so mad. I mean you never answered me and then . . . what business of yours was it who I showed my breasts to? You certainly didn't want to see them." Harm didn't have a chance protest the incorrectness of her assumption. Mac continued, "So, we were in my 'Vette and the next sticker we saw - - I did it - - I flashed him."

"With the top down?"

Mac nodded, sheepishly, but then defended herself, "It was liberating. I didn't even know that guy, but he wanted me, right then and there he wanted me." She began pacing around the room, no longer caring if her toenail polish smeared.

"Harriet couldn't believe it. She was just staring at me, so I dared her to try it and she did."

Harm looked slightly aghast that sweet, innocent Harriet had a wild side.

"The funniest part was she said 'Take that, Bud,' when she did it. We drove around for about another hour and flashed a few more people. It had been a long time since I felt sexy. It was nice to have men look at me like I was a woman. Most people only see the uniform."

"Don't tell me you were in uniform. My God, Mac! You could be charged with indecent exposure."

Rolling her eyes, Mac admonished, "No Mr. Prude. I was not in uniform. I have some sense."

"Apparently not," Harm muttered.

Mac remained dejected if not entirely contrite, other than at being caught. "So you can go now, you got your confession, OK."

"But I didn't get what I came over here for," Harm asserted quietly.

"I'm not gonna flash you, Harm," Mac said pulling the robe tighter around herself.

"Why not?"

Shaking her head sadly, Mac replied. "I'm not here to give you some cheap thrill. You've got your bumper sticker. Put it on your car. I'm sure they'll be linin' up."

Walking over to her, Harm put his hands on Mac's hips and looked deeply in her eyes, "I don't want a cheap thrill. I want you." Mac didn't say anything and Harm retreated. "That didn't come out exactly right."

In a voice devoid of emotion, Mac echoed the only parts she'd heard. "I don't thrill you."

"No, of course you do," Harm set the record straight. "Let me put it to you this way - - you, me, your 'Vette - - do you know what that visual does to me?" If Mac moved a few inches closer to him, she'd know exactly what that idea was doing to him.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying - - I want you! I . . . " Harm encircled her in his powerful arms and gazed down at her. His lips were slightly parted and his was grinning hungrily at her using his eyes to pierce into her very soul.

"You what?" Mac urged him to continue.

"Do you know how desirable you are?"

"You think I'm desirable?" Mac asked in a small voice, almost afraid to believe this was happening, but uncrossing her arms and running them up his broad, pectoral muscles to wrap around his neck.

"Oh, yeah," Harm gushed before closing the narrowing gap between them to kiss her. Third time's the charm and this time they both knew what they were doing and why. Tilting their heads, they greedily devoured each other allowing their tongues to probe and taste all that had seemed previously forbidden. Their hands explored the muscles of their backs. Mac was grateful that Harm's strong arms were suportingher because she honestly felt a bit weak in the knees. After a few moments, hoping they were finally on the same page, Harm broke the kiss and directed, "WOW me, baby."

Giggling, Mac stepped back slightly and jerked her robe open at the top revealing her generous breasts to her anxious and grateful partner.

"Wow is right," was all Harm managed to mumble, as he stared at the twin objects of his fantasies. Mutely he reached out to cup her breasts in his hands; he was mesmerized but amazed that her hardened nipples weren't shredding his hands to ribbons. Dipping his head, Harm latched his mouth onto one of those perfect, aroused buds. Hearing Mac's sighs of pleasure, Harm tightened his grip on her waist and scooped his other arm under her legs to lift Mac off the ground.

Startled, Mac yelped, "Harm!" but made no move to climb out of his arms.

"Don't say anything," he pleaded, "just let me."

"I was just gonna say . . . wow."

They smiled softly at each other.

Still carrying her, the way a groom carries a bride over the threshold, Harm made his way across the living room to Mac's bedroom and laid her gently in the middle of her queen sized brass bed. Standing, he toed off his sneakers and stripped his shirt over his head. Mac propped herself on an elbow and crossed her ankles in a seductive pose to watch him. She'd seen him shirtless before but never in her bedroom. Her robe was open to her navel and her long legs were also visible. As he unfastened the button on his jeans, Harm stilled his hands on his zipper because he became acutely aware that Mac was staring unabashedly at him as he disrobed and licking her lips in anticipation.

Amused by his unexpected shyness, Mac teased, "Don't stop on my account."

When she smiled up at him, Harm's courage returned and he peeled off his jeans, but left his boxers on, for what minimal coverage they provided. The tent in his shorts was prominent.

Mac held her hand out to him and uncrossed her ankles. Harm crawled up her body and reclaimed Mac in his arms. She molded to him willingly. Breathing heavily and raggedly, they kissed for a few more minutes, adjusting themselves to this new horizontal position and prolonging the moment of truth. Harm's manhood was pressed into Mac's thigh.

Harm's hands slipped inside Mac's robe and caressed her soft skin. Reaching between their bodies she slid her hand inside his shorts to stroke him.

The sharp exhale of his breath told Mac he liked this. Withdrawing her hand, she heard him groan his displeasure which turned to cooperation when she began to push his shorts off his lean hips. As she was undressing him, Harm opened her robe and stroked his hands over her stomach and down through her soft curls to massage her sex. She was already wet and hot. His touch had her squirming happily underneath him as he traced her outer folds.

Before he lost complete control, Harm knew he had to protect them both. He started to pull away from Mac to find his discarded jeans.

"Where you goin'?" Mac asked as she felt his movement.

"I . . . gotta get something."

Mac immediately knew to what he was referring. "Night stand. Top drawer," she said reaching over and smiling.

When she handed him the foil packet, their hands held it unopened together for a second. "This is the point of no return, Sarah."

She thought she could climax from the way he said her name - - it was just as arousing as she'd always imagined his bedroom voice would be. Looking deeply into his eyes, Mac saw lust but she also saw love - - even if he couldn't say the words. "So, what are you waiting for?"

"Hold on," Harm replied, tearing open the condom and rolling it onto himself. He fumbled a bit, having it backwards at first.

"Ready?" Mac asked once he was fully sheathed.

"Yeah, are you?" Harm gave her one last opportunity to back out.

"I've been ready for a long time. You're the one who couldn't let go."

Turning serious, Harm apologized. "I'm sorry - - for everything."

"Sshhhh," Mac implored. "From here, we only go forward."

"Together," Harm vowed, sealing his promise with a kiss and rubbing himself against her entrance.

"Always," Mac agreed, wrapping her legs higher on Harm's hips. This opened her wider to his smooth invasion.

Inch by inch Harm sank into his partner. Once he was fully inside her, both Mac and Harm was awed by the spirituality of their joining. "Wow," they both enthused then laughed and kissed at their renewed sense of communication.

Mac quipped, "Great minds think alike."

"No offense, Mac, but right now I'm not here for your brilliant mind."

Mac retorted jokingly, "I always knew you only wanted my body."

"I want your body, your mind, your soul and your heart," Harm explained. "You already have mine."

"Wow," Mac wasn't prepared for such a stark admission. Rather than speak, she drew Harm back for a kiss, which with the increasing pace of his thrusts, they couldn't maintain. They were building toward the ultimate release. Mac raked her fingernails up Harm's back and buried her face in the hollow of his neck. "Oh God," she whimpered.

"Come for me," Harm demanded. "I want to see you - - to feel you."

Harm's words and actions combined to push Mac over the edge into bliss. Shuddering she clenched her vaginal muscles around Harm as he slid unerringly in and out of her slick channel. The increased pressure pulled Harm's orgasm from his willing body.

Crying out as he spilled himself inside Mac for the first time, he kissed her deeply when he finished ejaculating. Trying to keep all of his weight on his arms and not collapse on Mac, Harm simply said, "wow."

Anchoring the condom in place at the base of his deflating penis, Harm finally separated their sweaty, sated bodies. Holding it away from them, Harm started to get out of bed intending to throw away the used prophylactic.

Mac didn't want him to go. "There's a garbage right here."

"Thanks," Harm said disposing of the condom.

Rolling onto his side, Harm cradled her into him. With his free hand he wiped a stray lock of her hair from her face, "Wow."

Smiling , Mac repeated his sentiment, "Wow."

"You're - - wow. That was - - wow." Harm couldn't speak.

Skimming her hands through his chest hair, Mac kidded, "Articulate, aren't we."

Kissing the top of her head, Harm borrowed a cliche, "This never happens to me."

Proud of herself, Mac practically crowed, "So I'm the first woman to render the great Harmon Rabb speechless?"

"I wouldn't say speechless, but yeah."

Now it was her turn, "Wow."

Relaxing, Harm began stroking Mac's side and cradling her hip. "Speaking of W.O.W., about next Wednesday. . "

Mac smacked him playfully, "No way, my W.O.W.'ing days are over."

Grinning, Harm plead, "Don't say that - - I've still got this great visual - - you topless in the 'Vette. Do you have any idea how many times I've dreamed about taking you on the hood of that car? Talk about wow! For me, please?"

"We'll see. But only for you," Mac promised.

"I'm flattered."

"You should be," Mac echoed a long ago conversation, imbuing those words with a much happier meaning.

THE END