Title: A Trip Down Memory Lane
Rating: Mature (a little potty mouth, a little porn… ok, a lot of porn)
Spoilers: Anything up to the end of Season 6, including the finale, is fair game.
Disclaimers: I just checked again... CSI is still not mine. Dammit.

Dedication: WINDBOUND (on LJ) can take credit for helping me to drag this one out, brush it off, and finally get back to writing. Thanks!

A/N: At last… this is the 3d and final chapter. Reading the previous chapters would be an asset. Of course, if you're ok with reams of pointless smut, and the background story leading up to this scenario is not all that important to you, then I guess you can just pick up the story from here. Whatever works for you.

Warning: This may well be the longest, most over-written piece of shameless pornfic known to mankind. I'm not sure that's a good thing… actually, I suspect it may have bypassed uber-sexy and gone straight to ridiculously overkill. If so, my profound apologies…

A Trip Down Memory Lane

part 3

So we left off with: "Care to join me in mussing up Jim's sheets?"

Sara's raspy reply of, "I thought you'd never ask," made his heart do a double-knock in his chest. That was her same response, verbatim, the first time he asked her out. From the twinkle in her gaze, he was pretty sure she was well aware of her choice of words.

They made their way to the bedroom, snicking off lights along the way, leaving them to complete their short journey in the moonlight seeping in through the cabin's many windows. When Sara saw his shadowy form reaching towards the bedside lamp she murmured, "Leave it off."

For one brief moment he thought she'd suddenly become shy. While no one would accuse Sara of being an exhibitionist, she certainly never presented as bashful around Gil either. Getting naked with him (or for him even, depending on her mood) didn't seem to phase her one bit no matter what the light level. He turned to her about to ask her why when he got his own answer. Seeing her standing there, awash in a moon beam, he figured it out. She looked incredible - like an angel. The light painted her an ethereal blue, accentuating the curves, leaving the deeply shadowed regions to his fertile imagination.

For the second time in one day Gil was reduced to the monosyllabic response of, "Wow," this time in a low whisper. Even in the darkness he could see the lust burning in her gaze. Apparently she liked what she saw too. That settled things – the light stayed off.

They both took a half-step forward and met in the middle to plaster their bodies together. Sara plunged her tongue deep into his inviting mouth as they feasted on each other, trying to satisfy their hunger. At first Gil's hands cradled the back of her head as if he were afraid that she'd slip away, but at some point they had stolen down between them. Before she knew it he had undone all of her shirt buttons. He didn't remove the garment, merely parted the panels and slid his hands along her ribcage then around to her back. She wasn't complaining about the situation, of course, she was just surprised when the cool draft wafted across her bare belly.

This was about the time when he tore his lips from hers and replanted them just below her left ear. It was specifically her left ear. Sara thoroughly enjoyed him in the vicinity of either ear, but for some reason the right one never got her quivering quite the way the left one did – and right now, the left was doing exactly that.

He took the opportunity to make quick work of her bra clasp. In one smooth motion he slipped her shirt back off her shoulders to float to their feet, then brought his fingers back across her shoulders again to drag the straps toward him. Sara rolled her arms forward and the force of gravity took over in the removal process. Once the bands skated down to her wrists Gil snagged them and gently lifted them over her bandages.

Much as Sara was enjoying his attentiveness, she was starting to feel a tinge of frustration. She was standing there half-naked and already her lover was working on the button and fly of her cargo shorts. Meanwhile, he was fully dressed. This was not sitting well with her. It wasn't that there was any kind of unspoken disrobing race that she was worried about, but Sara has always been a very active participant in their "recreational activities", and to be honest, she wanted him stripped down so she could feel his searing skin against hers. This whole "no hands" thing was really a drag.

She tried to tell him what was on her mind, but Gil latched onto a nipple just then, and when she tried to say his name it came out sounding something like "Gaaa-ah." When her knees gave out from the intensity of him grazing just the tip of his tongue languidly over the rock-hard bud, he gently supported her weight and guided her down onto the bed without missing a beat.

Grissom continued to tease her breasts, moving from one to the other and back again, alternately licking and nipping, occasionally sucking hard at unexpected intervals. God, she loved that. It wasn't a shock that he was great in bed – she'd always suspected he would be. What had surprised her was that there was always variety and casual meanderings in their lovemaking. For someone as systematic and structured as Gil normally was, his ability to turn that all off in bed and simply allow himself to go with the flow impressed her to no end.

Sara tried not to compare, and she would never voice these thoughts aloud, but with all of her past lovers (few as they may have been) Sara was able to pinpoint their pattern after only a few times in bed. That kind of predictability - the "5 minutes of kissing, 2 minutes of breast fondling, 30 milliseconds to tear off all clothing, and 1 minute of obligatory (though not very satisfactory) manual stimulation, followed immediately by 3 – 6 minutes of good old-fashioned intercourse" – well, it really left a lot to be desired. So far that had never been a problem in this relationship. There was no routine, no predefined roles of who was in control, and thankfully there were absolutely no discernible patterns whatsoever. It was all new all the time… like sex-yahtzee or something; you could never be sure if you'd get a little of everything, a full house, or the prized 5-of-a-kind. And yes, both had been on the receiving end of that last one a few times and almost died of pleasure.

Oh wait - I got a little off track there. Where was I? Oh yes, Gil was still dressed...

Somehow, while her mind was contemplating Gil's amazing diversity, the man in question had managed to finagle her out of her shorts and panties. That was pretty smooth since he would have had to get her to lift her hips to do that, but with the distracting rasp of his beard brushing across the sensitive skin around her naval he probably could've convinced her to cluck like a chicken and she'd have no recollection of it.

So now Sara was stretched out on the quilt (and it really was wonderfully soft against her skin) without a stitch of clothing on. At the apex of her legs she could feel his humid breath passing over her wetness. He wasn't actually touching her, but she knew she had to act now because once he dove in with that mouth of his there'd be no hope of her stringing together anything intelligible beyond that point.

"Wait wait wait...," she finally mustered. She opened her eyes, lifted her head and looked down the plain of her body. Just over the horizon of her neatly trimmed bush she could see the top half of Gil's head. His face was red and his steely blue eyes, which were almost completely eclipsed by wide pupils, were looking back at her. They were simultaneously dancing and yet calm, waiting for her to proceed. She couldn't see the end of his nose but… christ… he was so close she could feel each breath pass over her and it was all she could do not to squirm.

Sara struggled to get the words out. "I want… I mean I can't… with…" Giving up on speech she raised her paws from their resting place against the mountain of pillows on either side of her head. He grinned. His mouth was still out of her line of sight, but his eyes crinkled and she knew he understood.

"What would you like, Sweetheart?" he asked.

Swallowing her pride she continued, "I need you… to be my hands."

He did feel badly for goading her into wearing those stupid shoes – had he left things alone she'd have still been wearing her Keds and never would've fallen in the first place. His guilt answered, "How can I help?"

"I want to see you."

"I'm right here," he replied.

"No," she clarified, "I want to see all of you… and feel you against me. I want you to take off your clothes."

Bracing his hands on either side of her legs, he leaned forward with his mouth ready to clamp over her mound. She tensed and held her breath waiting for the contact but at the last second he pushed up from his knees and stood up instead. Sara whimpered at his teasing.

There were no words then, just Grissom looming by the bed doing her bidding while keeping his eyes locked on hers. Sara's initial goal had been the end result… Gil naked. She was fully expecting him to satisfy her request with the typical 30 millisecond shucking and be right back on the bed before she could blink. Imagine her pleasant surprise when he began slipping the buttons from their holes, working from the neck down. Very, very slowly. Good god… he wasn't just taking off his clothes, he was stripping. For her. It wasn't some cheesy hip-swinging, overtly sexual striptease to bad music or anything (thank god), but with his smoldering expression and unhurried pace it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen (and aren't we all just a little jealous?).

This left Sara biting her lower lip, trying rather unsuccessfully to stifle her moans. He drew his shirt off and hung it from a post at the end of the bed, still caught in her gaze, still in no rush. He obvious self-control was apparent as he started on his lower half just as unhurried. The snap released with a resounding pop and the slow zipping that drifted from the shadows revved her engine just that much more. Grissom hooked his thumbs in the waistband, shuffled them down a smidge and paused. She gasped. Hot damn… he'd gone commando.

Finally he slipped one hand in and loosely cupped himself to shield his delicate parts from the zipper's teeth, then shifted his hips and tugged on the cotton with his free hand. The shorts crumpled down to his ankles. Gil side-stepped out of them, leaving them where they lay. Standing before her, unashamed in all his buck-naked glory he asked, "Anything else?"

Anything else indeed, Sara thought, licking her lips. Really, what more could a woman want? She may have held back her squirming earlier but now it seemed as though every muscle from head to toe was twitching involuntarily. It was virtually a tremor really; she could feel it and he could see it. Can you say anticipation?

"My god, you're beautiful," she whispered. Grissom was man enough to take that as the compliment that it was.

In a low voice he responded, "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

"Lie with me," was all she had to say, and he tucked a knee up onto the edge of the mattress and swung himself around to lie half on his side, half draped along the length of her. He was hot. She was hot. Together there was a very real chance that they could spontaneously combust but neither particularly cared at that moment. They were skin on skin and it was what they both wanted.

"Closer…" she begged before sinking back into a charged kiss.

He obeyed again, shifting his weight until he completely blanketed her. Even his legs lay flush over hers, leaving his manhood nestled between the heat of their bodies. It felt awesome, his crushing weight pressed to her.

She skooched her legs apart so he dropped snugly between them, then began stroking her feet up and down his calves. Hey, with her temporary hand-less situation, she had satisfy her craving to touch him somehow… and she sure didn't hear him complaining!

At last neither could take it any longer. He took her, and she gave herself willingly. They moved together with ease, stroking each other to sheer madness. Sara's long legs snaked up around his backside to clamp him tightly in place. Thrusts died down to shallow twitches, then Gil began the faintest rocking motion of short but quick movements, to which Sara added an equally minute roll of her hips. The pressure built steadily until something had to give.

Sara let go first. She cried out suddenly, tossing her head from side to side, trying desperately not to grab onto him and pull him tight against her with her wounded hands. Then Grissom exploded too, groaning her name over and over. He lay there on top of her as long as he could, knowing she loved his weight pressing her to the mattress, but eventually his annoying post-coital hyper-sensitivity drove him out from between her legs.

He lifted himself off and stretched out alongside her on his belly. She automatically rolled over and matched his pose, and they relaxed until their breathing was pretty well under control again. Just before they completely drifted off Grissom mumbled, "Honey, you know how you said we should do something nice for Jim?"

"Uh-huh," was about all she could manage.

"I think dry cleaning this quilt should be on the top of that list."

Sara grinned and sunk into a peaceful slumber, content with the newest memories they'd just made.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

That's all she wrote, folks! Thanks for coming along for the ride! (oh my god… the puns!)

A/N #2: I had to tame down this chapter from its original form (yes - this is the "cleaner" version!) I was worried it was closer to an "X" rating than an "M". If you're a dirty, dirty reader (like me) and want to read the un-censored version you can go to my bio page here and I'll post a link to it over in the Geekfiction community on LJ.