Imitation10
Moira woke. Sprawled alone in the blankets. She yawned, sat. "John?" She heard the water running in his bathroom. Smiled. Smirked. She slipped out of the bed, shoved her messy hair behind her and moved into his room. Into his bathroom. It was steamy, warm. She smiled, staring at the foggy silhouette of his naked body as he showered. Imagined him dripping wet, skin, muscles, hair all sloppily drenched, suds sliding along him. A rippling desire made her step closer, closer. She could smell the soap, the shampoo. "John Sheppard!"
"Shit!" he exclaimed, startled. The soap flew from his hands to fly across the stall. Hit the tiles and then the floor. Hearing her laughter he grinned, but adopted a stern expression, pulled back the curtain to peer at her. "Moira! Stop doing that!" He ducked back, smiled at her admiring stare.
Moira smiled, licked her lips. He had been drenched. Covered in suds which rolled along his naked body. Sparkled in his chest hair. The hair on his arms, his legs. The hair between his legs. Water dripping along his jaw. His hair flat, plastered to his head. "Shit," she whispered. Quickly she stripped off her pajamas, her socks. She opened the curtain. John was leaning over to retrieve the soap, giving her a very generous view of his backside. She stepped into the shower. Smacked his rear. "Damn, John, that is one fine, fine ass!"
"Hey!" he protested, straightening. He laughed as she laughed. "Moira! That is clearly sexual harassment!"
"Oh? Sorry, colonel." She ran her hands up his back. "Soap?" He handed it to her, groaned as she soaped his back. Rubbed hard. "Hmm...colonel...look at all these scratches...my oh my. However did you get those, sweetie?"
He laughed. "I bedded a wildcat, that's how. Ow!" he protested as she smacked his rear again.
"Hilarious, John!" She laughed. "You know, colonel, women would kill to be where I am right now. I could sell tickets and make quite a profit."
"Hilarious, Moira." He sighed happily as her hands ran up and down his back. "You better behave, baby, unless you want me to deploy."
She scooted down, hands running up his thighs now. She slipped between his legs, moved up onto her knees in front of him. Licked the water at his waist, his hips.
"Oh fuck! Moira? Moira...oh fuck, baby," he said low, aroused by her touches, her kisses. Her tongue. The water pounded his back. The sight of her drenched in water, hair straggling on her bare skin, bare breasts made him moan softly. His fingers caught her wet hair, her shoulders as she kissed along his pelvis. Hands running up his cock now, catching, stroking him.
"Oh colonel, I'd better make damn sure this ordnance is squeaky clean. It may take a while as big, as long, as hard as it is," she teased. Grasping and squeezing as he reacted quickly.
John groaned, nearly lost his footing as she was bringing him fast, so fast, the arousal painful now. Straining. "Fuck oh fuck!" he exclaimed, deeper voice reverberating off the tiles. "Moira, I thought you...wanted to...lower the..the intensity..." Each word was a struggle in coherency as her nails ran up and down the hard length of him. Stroked between his legs while her mouth teased along his hip, his pelvis.
She glanced up at him, eyes bright. Smile sensual. Voice sultry as water pooled along her breasts, between her legs. "You need to lower yours, sweetie. I never said I'd lower mine." She laughed softly, causing a shiver to course along his skin. "Lower, John? Do you want me to go lower? Lower..." She ran her mouth along his cock.
John gasped in ecstatic sexual pleasure. His hands pressed flatly to the walls for support as his body shook in anticipation, in need. "Damn it, Moira! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"Ssh, sweetie," she warned, caressing. "My John. My John and his hard, hard ordnance...so hard, so big...so fucking big," she teased, moaning. Sliding her thigh on his. He jerked, a spasm erupting as she took him into her mouth. Sucking, sliding, teasing the sensitive head until he thought he would pass out or die of sheer orgasmic bliss. Helplessly he thrust, jerked, groaning as the snugness enfolded him, the moistness enveloped him. She squeezed, and squeezed, then bit gently. So gently but then harder, running her teeth along him. His knees shook. His hands slid on the slick tiles. His breath came raggedly as grunts escaped him. Deep, masculine sounds that sent shivers along her body.
Moira slowly, slowly freed him, grabbed and slid wildly, wildly, stroking so quickly, so intently he came in a rush. An ejaculating spurt as the sharp pleasure rode him. She swerved out of the way, easing her strokes. She stood carefully, freeing him from her tight grasp. She ran her hand sup his chest. Kissed him. Kiss after kiss, her tongue plying his mouth as her body shoved up against his. Breasts sliding along his chest. Her crotch running along his depleted cock. She circled his ear, bit. Nibbled his throat. She pulled back at last. "You better rinse off, soldier," she said huskily. Stepped out of the shower and was gone.
John stared after her, speechless. Breathless. So sexually satisfied he could have wept. He stared through the curtain at her naked, wet body. Watched her rub the towel over her. Drop it to the floor and depart. He quickly rinsed off his body, his hair. Running his hands over himself, echoing her strokes, her mouth. Saw the faint bite marks on his cock that were quickly fading. "Oh fuck...fuck..." he muttered, enthralled. Puzzled. He turned off the water. Stepped out and quickly grabbed the towel from the floor, drying himself. He wrapped it around his waist, stepped into his room. "Moira?" He swallowed, voice raspy. He moved to her room. "Moy?"
Moira emerged from the bathroom. Damp hair caught in a ponytail. A long-sleeved gray t-shirt, gray pants clothed her. Shoes. She glanced at him, moving to the table to grab her data pad. "John." Her voice was mild, as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred.
"Moira? I...you...um...fuck...I..."
She smiled, moved to him. Eyes wandering over him as she touched his arm. She lightly kissed him. "You really should get dressed, sweetie. Although I do love the boy-toy towel look."
He tried not to smile. "Moira, what the–"
She kissed him again. A long, passionate kiss. Said into his ear, "it's called sex, colonel. Look it up. I thought you were the sex guy." Then she was gone.
He stared after her, confused. Enamored.
Moira strolled down the hallway. Flustered at her boldness, her lust for her husband. Amused at his expressions. His complete enjoyment, his pleasure. Her power over him at that moment. His surrender to her. She licked her lips at the memory.
"Moira, wait a sec!"
She turned, watched as Peter Harrison moved to catch her. "Peter? I was–"
"Please tell me you were going to join me in the lab. Where have you been these past days? I need you to collate the new classifications. Remember? Your pet project? Pachyderms? We need your input on this."
"I know, and I'd like nothing better but I can't right now, Peter. I'm sorry."
"Moira!" Rodney moved to her, glanced at the other scientist, dismissing him. "Finally! I need you in my lab now! I've assembled another device but you have to initiate the Ancient crystal interface I employed to line up the–"
"I can't right now, Rodney. I have to–"
"Moira, love, are you brining the data?" Carson joined them, eyed the other two men. "We need to arrange those tissue samples by type and then go over the scans once more before I return to the Alpha–"
"Yes, Carson, I am on my way and I have the–"
"No. Moira is in my department, Doctor Beckett, and I need her to actually work there for a change. I need her specific expertise now."
"No. I need her for the Ancient tech so I have priority, Doctor Harrison," Rodney noted with a shake of his head.
"No, I need her in the med lab for the scans of our first female Wraith subject, so that–"
"Enough!" she snapped as all three began to argue, fingers pointing at one another. Unaware that John was in the hallway, watching. Ready to intervene if necessary. She shrugged. "I can't be in three places at once, gentlemen! Peter, I am sorry. I won't be able to work with you in the lab. As much as I want to, and as much this is my dream project I won't be able to join you until this afternoon. The Wraith intel is top priority."
"Intel? You sound like a soldier, Moira, not a scientist. I know how much this project means to you, to us," the older man argued.
"Yes, and I will work on it ASAP. Sorry," she shrugged, "I guess I am picking up John's lingo. Rodney, I won't be able to help you for at least an hour."
"What? My research is always, always top priority, Moira! Ask John. Ancient tech is at the top of any list, believe me, as is my work."
"Yes, but you are the expert there, not me. Once I've initiated the device you won't need me. Not like Carson does. The protocols are very clear that Wraith intel trumps Ancient intel in the event of a test subject or specimen. Give me an hour and I will meet you in your lab."
"All right," he sulked. "Seems Carson is always your favorite."
She smiled. "Well, he does have that lovely Scottish accent, but no. John is my favorite and these are his protocols. Carson, let's go. I didn't mean to leave you in the lurch yesterday. It won't happen again." She paused. All three men were staring at her. Then looked past her at the same time. "What?" She turned to see John lazily lounging against the wall. Lean form encompassed by a black t-shirt, blue pants. The sexy double holster straps on his thigh. A smile on his handsome face. One hand at his hip. "John?" She glanced back at the men. Moved to him, suddenly bashful. "How, um, how do you feel?" she asked.
"How do I feel?" he inquired, raising a brow. A smirk appeared. "Fine." He raised his eyes past her. "You heard Doctor Sheppard. Get to work!" As they dispersed he met her gaze. "How do I feel?" he repeated. "Like I've been thoroughly and ruthlessly pleasured. Walk with me, Moy. I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you, baby. All those men wanting you and all."
She smiled. "Hilarious, John. You have nothing to worry about, sweetie. It's just my mind they want...and my gene."
"Oh? Is that all?" he asked as they strolled along the hallway.
"Yes. They don't want to get into my jeans like you do."
He laughed. "Good to know, baby. But I don't think so. You are radiant and so ripe...fuck, you are so fucking beautiful they probably want to just stare at you and–"
"John! Shut up! Don't try to sweet talk me," she refused his compliments.
"Me? It's the truth, Moira. Hey," he caught her arm before she could escape. "Keep to our schedule, Moy. I don't want those scientists to wear you out. Or John junior."
"Our schedule?" she asked, amused. "You mean my schedule, colonel."
"Yeah, that's what I said. Our schedule. Mine now, sweetheart. I'll meet you in ours at eleven for our nap. Then lunch. Then Sheppard's delight."
She laughed. "I don't think so, sweetie. I have too much work to–"
He caught her, kissed her suddenly. Pushing her gently against a wall. "But I am your favorite, baby. You said so yourself. Eleven hundred. Ours. We need to talk about my cock."
"Your...what? Huh?"
He kissed her again. "You heard. See you at eleven." He freed her. Sauntered up the hallway. "Eyes off my ass, Moira!" he called over his shoulder.
She laughed. "That's your fine, fine ass, John!" She blushed as a woman paused, glancing at her, then at John as he disappeared around the corner. "What?" she asked as the woman met her gaze again. "It is. A fine, fine...I've got work to do."