A/N: Once more, thanks for all the kind reviews and well-wishes for speedy recoveries at chez Lagunas. Runner ups for bow colours are purple and red. Cast your votes!

A/N2: I don't need to remind you that this is M rated, right? Consensual sex between two adults? A little voyeurism thrown in just to spice things up? A certain anthropologist wanting "more"? I knew THAT would get your attention! Proceed reading at your own risk…

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As I said before, what I want is what I get. This time, around, I could be getting more than I bargained for. Just thinking about what I'm about to get is enough to get me in overdrive and my already too stiff cock twitches in anticipation.

I move back to the end of the bed and grab her ankles. Bones regards me with a "what-the-fuck?" kind of look that makes me chuckle inside. I guess she was waiting for me to go in for the kill and not beat about the bush. But that's e-xac-tly what I plan to do.

Pun very much intended.

I settle between her legs and start kissing the inside of her calves while my hands gently caress her thighs. By the sounds she's making, I'm guessing I'm not doing so badly, on the one hand, and that she's growing frustrated and impatient, on the other. Not so great at the waiting game, huh, Dr. Brennan? You're about to learn, my dear, that good things come to those who wait.

VERY good things, indeed.

I slowly move forward, tasting, nibbling, sucking and twirling my tongue as I go. It's an enlightening discovery voyage: she's ticklish behind the knees; she has a light birthmark right above her left knee, inclined towards her inner thigh, as if pointing the way to better things; the place where her leg connects with her buttocks is quite an erogenous zone, very receptive indeed. I save that last one for later, as I decide it requires further, in-depth, analysis.

For now, I have an appointment with her pussy, which from now on will forever and affectionately be known as "Ms. Jones". My very own private life soundtrack switches to

Robbie Williams' "Have you met Ms. Jones?". Not yet, mate, but getting there. Can hardly wait.

The smell of her arousal is intoxicating. I look up and I'm mesmerized by the glistening view before me. I feel like Alice in Wonderland, just having found an "Eat Me" sign, and we all know what to do when facing a directional sign. WE follow it.

I give a tentative lick to the whole area. Bones' hips literally jump from the bed and I have to pin her down by placing my hands on the pelvic bones. I can feel her legs tightening next to my body and I proceed to lick her once more, this time more slowly and deeper than the first try.

Her response is clutching the bed sheets, applying more pressure with her legs and hissing out a guttural "Booth". The 0.003 of my rational brain that's still working on the case smacks itself realizing we've just blown our covers. The other. 99.997 overthrows it and lets anarchy run wild with cries of "Case? What case? WE don't need no stinking case!". If we ever have to stand before Cullen to explain what happened, I'm blaming her.

Or rather, her taste.

I can't get enough of it. Of her. I'm openly lapping it up, drinking it up, getting drunk in it, and it's still not enough. I remember hearing/reading that the "flavour" of actual cum is even richer and I'm more than eager to find out for myself, first-hand, if that theory is true.

And from the sound of her moaning, I get the feeling that Bones wouldn't object to my "scientific" research done in her behalf.

Sliding my right arm beneath her left leg, I place my splayed hand on her lower belly to keep her from moving too much. My left arm tries to immobilize her right leg, as my fingers make their way inside her. Bones' moaning goes up a notch, and she starts intercalating hisses and yeses and religious references and that's all the encouragement I need.

I slip my thumb in, opening her up, twirling it around, lubricating it. I can feel her inner walls trying to adjust to it and I remove it before she gets a chance to do it. A grunt of protest escapes her lips, and I'm quick to replace it with two other fingers that slowly start getting acquainted with the folds and ridges inside her vagina. I try flicking her clit with my thumb, but the angle proves to be uncomfortable so I twist my hand, my thumb pointing downwards.

What happened next was totally unplanned. Ok, maybe not totally. But I hadn't planned to do it previously (as if making love to her like this had been in my plans to begin with). I won't deny that once I was struck with the idea, it seemed like the most natural thing to do. So I went with it. And my thumb began caressing her backside opening. It gave easily under the pressure, and soon it was inside, exploring. At the same time I flicked my tongue over her clit. Once, twice…

"Oh… my… god… Bo… Bo… S E E L E Y ! "

Her scream was muffled by her thighs, which had closed down hard around my head. I could feel her contracting and gripping at my fingers and I would have remained there until her orgasm subsided, but I HAD to taste her then and there and unwillingly I removed them and began to gently suck at the juices flowing freely from her.

I learned three things at that very moment.

The first is that, yes, her taste grew huskier and richer as she came. The second, that struck me as soon as her hip began trashing once more, is that there is such thing as a multiorgasmic women (up until then I had believed it to be a myth designed to elevate men's egos). Thirdly, I learn that there is such thing as too much of a good thing.

The latter I found out when I felt her hands pulling my head back.

"Please…. don't"

She barely whispered her plea and I looked up into her eyes, worried. I shouldn't have tried that trick with my thumb. I should have had the prior practice when I had the chance. I shouldn't have use my teeth to nibble on her outer labia…

"Too… sensitive… please… stop "

I'm officially worried now. And an idiot. A chauvinist pig. A screw-up. A …

"Come here"

And she opened her arms to me in an open invite I couldn't refuse. I carefully but quickly slipped upwards and gathered her somewhat limp body in my arms. "Are you ok?" I asked, worriedly, mentally kicking myself for having hurt her.

"Never better", she half said, half sighed. "B-but clit's too sensitive n-now. What felt amazing 2 minutes ago is now unpleasant, even painful… don't worry… you'll learn to read my rhythms and my appetites in time"

In time? Does that mean…? My heart and Mr. Jones start doing flip-flops and I got so engrossed on pondering all the possible ramifications of her last statement that I didn't notice what she was doing until I felt her body on top of me, shifting her hips so she could sit up, placing her hands on my shoulders, wicked smile on her face, messy hair framing her face.

I was so taken by surprise that my initial response wasn't exactly worthy of a Nobel Prize.

"But I thought…. you just said…. " Gulp. " Too much?"

Bones slides her wet pussy on my cock's length, as if lubrication was needed to begin with, and tries aligning Mr. and Ms. Jones. " I said"… shift to the left… "that clitoridal stimulation"… shift to the right… "was beginning to be too intense"…. shift upward… "to be pleasurable anymore"…. frustrated groan at missing the right angle…

"Oh, fuck it." Gotta love these awkward moments in first time sex.

With an exasperated groan, she straightened up, keeping her left hand on my shoulder for balance and grabbing my erect cock with her right one, lifting her hips, and placing the tip at her entrance.

"But I never said anything about NEEDING to feel you filling me"

And with that, she slid herself downwards, and life as I had known it previously simply vanished.

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A/N: I know. I said it would be 7 parts. But if you take into account I didn't actually give you a story part on Chapter 2, this IS part 6, right? Since I've already been thrown tomatoes, please make certain this time around you send purple onions and pepperoni my way. I'll add pineapple chunks and we'll have pizza for dinner!