Conditioned Aversion12
"John! No!"
John whirled at her voice. They were in their room. He froze, near the bed. Hand on his tie about to yank it off him. "What?"
"Don't move!" she ordered. "I want a picture of you in that! Here! Near the fake fire!" She scrambled to the table, grabbed the camera.
He sighed. "Moira, I have to get out of his monkey suit! This fucking tie is killing me!"
"Just one picture, John! You're so hot! So fucking hot!"
"Fine." He stood near the fake fire. "Well?"
She smiled. "You could at least smile." He shook his head. Smiled. "Good!" She took the picture. "Now do the colonel!"
"I want you to do the colonel," he retorted.
"John!"
"Okay, okay, geez!" He adopted a serious expression. Scowling.
"Sexy! Now pout! That luscious little boy pout! The lip!"
He sighed, did as she requested. Yanked off the tie. "What are you making, baby, a porno album of me?"
She giggled. Snapped the photos. Set the camera aside. Moved to him. "Now I can do the colonel, sweetie!" She flung herself into his arms, kissing him generously. Nibbling, sucking his lower lip. He caressed her back, slid his hands down to squeeze her rear as his tongue glided into her mouth. She gyrated against him. Felt his arousal. Felt hers. She pulled back, smiled. "Jo-hn," she teased. Led him to the bed. Nearly tripping in the high heels. He laughed.
"Damn, baby, you are really–"
"Horny? I know!" She giggled. "Let me undress you, please, please! Then John, oh John, I'm going to rock your world, sweetie!"
"Really? Oh boy...I can't wait to see this. How much of this is Moira and how much is the wine?" he wondered, not caring.
She kissed him. "It's all Moira, sweetie. All. For you." She unbuttoned his vest, then his shirt, kissing him. Mouth sliding over his chin, jaw, circling his ear. Nibbling as he groaned. Down his throat. Flinging open his shirt. Kissing down his chest. Fingers prying at his pants. He gently guided her back to step out of his pants. To remove his shoes. She pushed him back onto the bed, fell on top of him. Kissing him repeatedly.
John relaxed, enjoying her attentions, her lavish affections, desires. Moaned as he was getting harder, harder. Her hair was falling loose around her. The dress had slipped to one side, exposing a bare breast. The slit was riding up to give him a quick glimpse of her naked thigh, her naked crotch as she slid down his body. Kissing along his waist. His pelvis. "Moira, oh baby, oh baby, oh fuck!" She stroked the black silk boxers. Mouthed his erection. He groaned, pleasure and tension colliding.
Moira mouthed up his cock, took the head and sucked, sucked on the fabric. "Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" John exclaimed, jerking wildly. So hard, so big now. Body tense and straining. He sat, fell back, coming hard as he stared avidly at her. Her fingers plying his balls in excruciating pleasure. To his amazement she freed him, kissed along his waist and nibbled his pelvis. Slowly, so slowly slid the boxers down, down. Kissing now along his naked erection as she exposed it. John groaned in ecstasy, body thrumming. So aroused he knew he was going to come any second. "Moira! Oh God! Oh God I've wanted this! Moira, Moira, baby!" he croaked, about to explode. Hands clenching the blankets. Writhing beneath her as she stroked, kissed, licked, oh so gently bit as she reached the head still covered by the silk boxers.
His cock was engorged. Fully upright now and straining to thrust. He exclaimed loudly, hips jutting as she circled the head, almost removing the sodden material from him. She paused, seeing his pleasure, his almost helpless surrender. She took him into her mouth again. Sucked gently, gently. Then bit, scraping her teeth carefully along his most tender area. John groaned loudly, almost bolting upright. He couldn't hold it anymore, body screaming. He came. He came in a flood of orgasm. Thrusting, jutting, ejaculating wildly. Her hands cupping him, ripping the shorts off him to touch bare flesh. To clasp, to squeeze and vigorously stroke as he jerked, jerked. Spasms rocking the bed. Hands clawing the blankets. Grunts and groans deep in his throat. "Fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" he hoarsely called. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Her hands taking all of him, so tight, so snug, over and over as she leaned to kiss along his thigh.
John thought he'd die of sheer pleasure. Release. It seemed to go on forever. Finally he spurted, losing firmness. Exhausted he fell back, body thrumming. Cock throbbing, balls tingling. Easing as she freed him, wiped her hands on his thighs, the blankets. She slid up, kissed his mouth. Whispered in his ear, "happy anniversary, sweetie." She laid next to him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
John was too astounded to laugh. Too breathless to speak. So sexually pleasured he felt tears. So in love with Moira he thought he'd start babbling like an idiot so he held his tongue.
Moira sat, flushed. Amused. Aroused. Pleased she had given him so much. "John?" She reached behind herself to unhook the dress. "Guess I'll have to do this myself, sweetie." She leaned over to unbuckle the shoes.
"Fuck," he managed to mutter. Voice low, husky. "Good God, Moira! I...I can't even...think. I can't...can't..."
"Can't what, John? Get it up? Must have been good for you, then," she noted wryly. She giggled. "I know that's one of your turn-ons, John. Although I should have tied you to the bed. Maybe next time." She moved onto her knees over him. "Isn't that true?"
"Yes, oh yes, Moira. I think I just had the orgasm of my life. The only thing better is when I'm deep inside of you when you come." He stared at her as she straddled him. She was smiling. Hair swirling. She slipped off the dress. Breasts bouncing out of the material. Wiggled her hips and lifted the dress off to expose herself to him. He smiled, gaze roving. Seeing she was so wet her mound glistened. "Oh fuck, fuck," he moaned.
She leaned down to kiss him. Her breasts brushing his chest. She slid along his thigh, along his still placated cock so he could feel her wetness, her readiness. "Oh John. I want you deep, deep inside of me. But I guess I'll have to turn you on again." She slipped off him, rested on her back next to him. He rolled over to watch her.
"Baby, give me at least ten. Er, twenty after that. You just fucked the cock off me," he informed. Staring. "Oh fuck, fuck...." he groaned in appreciation.
Moira arched, running her hands over her breasts. Cupping them, offering them. Nipples hard. All inhibitions seemingly gone. "I wish you could kiss me, John. Suck me until I can barely think, barely control myself." Her hands slid down, down. His gaze followed. He grunted as she caressed between her legs. Rubbing, thighs parting. She whimpered. "Oh John, oh John...I'm so tight. So fucking wet it hurts! I need you!"
"Fuck!" He could barely contain himself. Getting hard already. Body tensing, tightening with lust. He kissed her, tongue thrusting. Flung her hand away to replace it with his own. Long fingers stroking, probing. He moaned feeling her slick, hot opening just waiting for him.
Moira moaned, arching. Catching his hand as it probed, stroked. "Faster! Oh John, John!"
He kissed her, complying. Nibbling her earlobe, her throat as his fingers pushed, probed. Knuckling her cleft, her folds. Bringing her to teasing arousal. Skimming over her clitoris to make her squirm, whimper wildly.
"Oh God! Oh God! John, John, please, please, oh John!" she cried, nearly wept as the pleasure circled. But he wouldn't bring her, wouldn't move faster just yet. She moaned, helpless, arching as his mouth took her breasts. Kissing, sucking, gently nibbling until she was writhing, clawing at him. Sounds escalating from her.
He could barely stand it. He kissed her, freeing her as she relaxed. Then he thrust into her, hard. Harder. Fast and deep to bring her wildly. Moira cried out, nearly sat as he took her roughly. Riding the waves of sexual passion. The bed rocking under them now. Her knees bent, her legs wrapped round him as he pounded, pounded into her. Her wild cries, moans, whimpers stimulating him to give her as much pleasure as he could. Sating her excruciating need.
Abruptly he fell upon her, groaning loudly even as she came. Shouting his name in a sobbing release. "Son of a bitch!" he growled. "I've never been so fucking hard in my life! Those sounds you make! So fucking sweet and tight, my God...I could fuck you through the bed!"
"John, John,"she breathed, vision blurry from tears. She blinked, relaxing her hold on his back. "Oh John, I swear I'm going to die! I swear I'm going to die!" she breathed. Body thrumming with the echoes of the climax. Feeling him everywhere in her, on her. "We can't. We can't keep having sex like that, John. Please!"
He chuckled against her skin. Lifted to slide lazily out of her. "Why not? I can't get enough of it, Moira. So fucking sweet. If we become any more exuberant we may very well kill each other with sex."
"I'm serious, John! I can't believe, I can't believe the things I did...the things you let me do...what you did...you got me drunk for this!"
"No, you got yourself drunk, baby. This was just an amazing sexual intimacy, baby. You and me. Insatiable. Three months, Moira. No wonder I can't get enough, nor can you."
"I think it was the wine," she said softly, needing excuses for the wild excess, the lust. She giggled. "I'm not used to this much...well, with you... I mean..."
He rolled off her. Stretched in the bed. "Ah Moira, we couldn't possibly top this sex, could we? Fuck. No woman has ever brought me like you do. Moira?" He sat, smirked. Moira was sprawled on her stomach. The dress was draped partially over her rear, revealing only a tantalizing glimpse of one shapely cheek. Her hair was streaming along her bare back, her face. John could not resist. He got off the bed, grabbed the camera. Brushed a strand of hair out of her face and took a few photos. He set the camera on the table. Shut off the lights and laid next to her. Moved half on her, kissing her shoulder. "Happy anniversary, baby," he teased into her ear. Settled to fall asleep.
John woke. Sprawled naked on the bed. Moira was nestled against him, one arm flung over his waist. Sound asleep. He smiled, stretched lazily. Blinking at the harsh sunlight. He sat, checked his watch. "Shit! Moira! Moira!" He shook her.
Moira stirred, muttered. Rolled onto her side. "Strawberries," she whispered.
He smiled. Kissed her shoulder. "We've got to go, baby." He smacked her rear.
"Ow! John!" She scrambled, sitting. Glaring at him.
"You need to move that pert little ass, baby! We have to leave in twenty! Unless you want to return to the SGC like that."
"Hilarious, John,"she grumbled, shoving her hair out of her face. She touched her brow. "Damn. What the hell did I....did we...oh...oh..." Memory flooded and she stared at him.
He smirked. "Yes, baby. It was that fantastic. Get a move on, sweetheart."
"Wait!" She grabbed his arm, detaining him. "John, I, um, you, did we, really, I mean it was like a dream! The dancing, the clothes, the food, the, the sex...oh my God, the sex!"
He laughed. "All of it, baby. Very real. Very, very real." He stood, moved to the bathroom. "Next time I get to choose our vacation spot. Somewhere warmer. No, somewhere hot."
She smiled. "It wasn't exactly a vacation, sweetie," she chided. She got out of the bed, grabbed some clothes. Entered the bathroom. She stood, watching him for a moment as he showered. With a grin she joined him.
"Hey! Not that I'm complaining but we only have twenty to–"
"I know. This will be quicker, sweetie. No sex just showering."
"Crap," he lamented.
Moira looked over the bags. Everything was packed. Even the gifts. Even the fancy clothes. She moved to John as he hung up the phone. Flipped open his cell phone. Dialed. Waited. Talked quickly. "Yes, sir. Yes, sir, we'll be on route as soon as the car gets here. Yes, sir."
He sighed. "He's not happy but oh well."
"Sorry, John." She touched his arm. "Um, John...about last night."
"Oh oh." He looked at her, closing his phone. "Look, Moira, you were slightly tipsy but as horny as I was, hell, maybe more so, and you did nothing that you didn't want to do, or want me to do."
"I know, John. Not about the sex. About the rest." She caught his hand, drew him to sit on the bed with her. "I know you won't like this but I haven't talked about that, that stuff for years. To anyone. When we talked about that stuff I felt I finally could, because you really listened. You understood. You didn't judge me. Just listened and understood. You understand the darkness. Because it's in you. It's in me. It upset me to talk about it but it felt good too. I mean, I felt I could trust you. You would let me bring that darkness out into the light, at least for a little while. Take it from me and ease the guilt, just a little. I, I hope you felt the same way when you talked to me and let me take some of that darkness from you. Put it in the light to release those toxins."
He stared, uncomfortable. Disappointed. He would have rather handled a complaint about the exuberant sex than this. "Yes. I felt that way. I don't know if I can talk about it yet. Tell you the whole story, the details..."
"I'm afraid to tell you. Afraid once you know what I did you'll look at me differently."
"No. Nothing will change how I feel, Moy. I trust you won't change how you feel about me, but I won't blame you if you do change. Once you see all the darkness." He lowered his gaze to their clasped hands. "After everything I've done, unknowingly or not, I swear I never meant to hurt you in any way."
She stared, puzzled. But kissed him. "I'll never love you less, John. Only more. I shouldn't have brought it up, after such a perfect, perfect time together."
"It's still there, I know. I'll admit, I'm curious. Concerned. As you must be about me. I just...I haven't told a soul, Moy. I can't. It's too..." Words failed him. He couldn't talk about the past. About specific details. About this most recent betrayal of her trust, however impaired he was.
"Too dark, too full of pain, of guilt. I know, John. We've come so far. At least I have. I think you could help me and I could help you."
"I think you're right, Moy, but one step at a time, okay? It won't be easy, or pretty. Besides guilt there's anger. Twisted anger and hatred. I don't want to show you all that. But I don't want to turn into that dark side colonel either. But I, I think I may have..."
"No, you're not him, John. You never will be," she assured. Hands caressing his. He was still unable to meet her gaze. "I can't imagine the hell you've been through recently. But if you ever need to talk about it, I will listen."
He met her gaze. Solemn. He kissed her. "Whatever happens when we get back, Moy, I swear to you I never meant any of it to happen. I love you, Moira. I need you. And nothing, no one is going to get between us. Not even me," he vowed grimly. Voice low. She stared at him, not knowing what to say, what to do. He stood, pulling her with him. "Let's go home."