Synthesis5
John entered his room. Crossed the threshold to Moira's. Smiled. He neared quietly, watched in sensual fascination as she stared hard at the blank data screen. The blinking cursor taunting. She nibbled her lower lip in concentration. In frustration as she typed in a word. Was denied. John neared on cat-like feet. Waited. Watched her chew her lower lip. Waited. Waited. Until that soft, small noise sounded in her throat.
Moira typed in another word. Was denied. "Damn it, colonel!" she fumed quietly. Sat back from the screen. Stared as a pair of her panties hit the keyboard. Then another. She grabbed them, whirled in the chair. "John!"
He laughed, enjoying her indignation. "Just cleaning out my pockets, baby. Most guys find spare change. But me, I find spare panties."
"Pervert," she quipped.
He laughed. Touched the back of the chair as she turned away from him. He leaned close. "Well, well, either you have on a very, very sexy bra or the girls are bouncing up to see me."
"Girls? What?" She looked at him. He was staring down at her chest. A lewd, sensual warmth in his brilliant green eyes.
"John! Behave! I need your help to–"
He ran his hand along her side, caressed a breast. "Oh baby, I have to see!"
She swatted his hand. "Later! I need your help to–"
"Show me now, baby, please. I can't think of anything else," he wooed. He turned her chair towards him. He moved to his knees in front of her, ignoring the protesting ache of his injured leg. He slid up the shirt, pausing to gently, so gently touch the bruise.
"It's fine, John, just a little sore," she said before he could ask.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, sweetheart! I would never hurt you, never! God, I can't believe I–"
"John! It wasn't your fault! It was an accident! Now stop it!" She smiled. "Weren't you going to inspect my ordnance, colonel?"
"Oh...yeah..." His hand slid between her legs.
"Not that ordnance, sweetie!" She tapped his shoulder.
He met her gaze, smirked. "Oh. Right. The girls." At her exasperation he smiled. Lifted the shirt higher.
"I guess that's better than tits," she wryly remarked.
He laughed. Lifted the shirt higher. Smiled. "Ah." He eyed the purple bra. It was satiny, pushing her breasts up and together. A tiny pink heart was sewn to the center of it. "Looks like you're about to fall out of there, baby. Damn. I trust the panties match?"
"At the moment, sweetie, until you steal them," she fondly noted.
He grinned. "Requisition them," he corrected. He ran his fingers over the swells of her breasts, moving the two rings on the chain out of the way. Ran a finger between them. "I want to lick you. Right here. Right here." He moved closer, parting her thighs to gain his objective. He leaned close and ran his tongue down between her breasts. Slowly. Ran it over the swells, kissing the bare flesh.
Moira softly, softly moaned. "John," she breathed, reacting. She ran her fingers in his hair. Along his jaw. Gently pushed him back from her. "We can't. We need to open this–"
"I couldn't agree more, baby," he jested. "First this." He touched the bra.
"John! You–" But he pulled her shirt higher, higher, up her arms as she lifted them. Over her head. He put it on the table, slid his hands over the bra. Fondling, pushing her breasts together. He kissed the bulging swells.
"Such beautiful, beautiful tits," he wooed, pulling down one cup to expose her breast. He kissed, teased the rosy nipple as he moved to his knees again.
Moira softly, softly whimpered, arching a little. Losing herself in the erotic sensations of his tongue on the sensitive skin. The pull of his mouth. She ran her hands down his chest to his crotch, his thigh. Caressing, finding his growing arousal. Grasping his erection. "Oh John, no, no, we have to open the flash drive."
"Whatever you want to call it, baby," he agreed.
She laughed. "I'm serious, sweetie! We need to review this flash drive and everything on–"
"We will, baby, after this. Oh yes, yes, Moira, just like that...oh fuck," he growled as her fingers stroked up and down, up and down. But her hand stopped. Her other hand touched his shoulder, grasping.
"John...John..." She tried to resist, to exert control over the growing arousal in her body. "We can't. We have to do this first. There could be anything on these files. Important things." Her voice was breathless, betraying her desire.
He freed her breast to slowly look up at her. Moira stared, mesmerized by how utterly handsome he was. Dark brown hair mussed by her loving fingers. Strong jaw line shadowed by the barest hint of stubble. Full lips a perfect Cupid's bow, inviting her mouth. Long lashes sweeping along his brilliant green eyes. A vivid green, full of passion, of desire. Smouldering with sensual demands that made her melt, made her wet, made her body tighten with desire and need.
He smiled slowly, knowing by her avid gaze that he had her. He licked his lips. A lazy motion of his tongue. "If that's what you want, baby. What you really want." He licked his lips again. The tone of his voice lowering into a husky, male timber that slithered over her skin. "Instead of me." His tongue darted teasingly, leaving his lower lip wet. He sat back on the floor, legs bending under him.
Moira stared, fixated. Unable to help herself. A flood of desire inundated her, an erotic rush as her gaze devoured him. The white woven shirt unbuttoned at his throat to give her a teasing view of his chest, the dark chest hair peeking out. The contours of his torso and his biceps visible under the thin fabric. His lean waist, hips. The obvious bulge at his crotch just waiting for her nimble fingers to take, to stroke, to tease. She made a small sound in her throat. Moved out of the chair to straddle him. She ran her hand up his chest. "Damn it, John, that's not fair! Not at all!" she accused breathlessly. Kissed him. A long, searing kiss.
John responded, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Taking. Possessing. Hands sliding up her back to play in her loose hair. Then to unhook the bra, pull it down. Remove it. Moira was still kissing him, murmuring as she nibbled his lower lip, sucking at it. Her tongue swirling with his now as she shifted on his lap. He groaned, aroused, so aroused. He grabbed her rear, squeezed. Shoved her onto his erection. She gyrated a little, moved to circle his ear. To nibble. To kiss down his throat. As her hands flew to unbutton his shirt. To slide inside the material to feel his bare chest. To tangle in his chest hair.
"Ah Moira, Moira, is today tease John's cock day?" he teased against her skin. Moving his mouth to her bare breasts. "Or is it devour Moira's beautiful tits day? I'm not sure which it is."
"Don't care,"she breathed hotly into his ear. Arching a little as his tongue plied her nipples. His hand sliding between her legs. She kissed his jaw, throat, circled his ear again. Whispered into his ear, "Do you know how I like your ordnance, Colonel Sheppard? So big, so long, so fucking long and so, so hard...so deep inside me." She reached one hand down to find his cock. To squeeze.
He groaned in delight, in need. Mouth moving to her other breast. Hands grabbing her rear to move her in a circle on his lap. On his straining erection. "Fuck me, baby, fuck me hard," he urged.
"Oh John, John," she moaned. She scooted. Unzipped his pants and slid her hand in as his cock sprang to her, only hampered by his shorts now. A knock at the door made Moira freeze. Her mouth at his ear. One hand on his bare chest. The other still clutching his very erect cock. "John," she whispered.
"Ignore it," he said around the hard nipple in his mouth. He groaned softly.
"John? It's Elizabeth. I need a word."
Moira scrambled off him, stood. Hastily pulled on her shirt as her bra fell to the floor. "We have to–"
"Go. Go answer the door," he grumbled. Awkwardly maneuvered himself into the chair. Frustrated. Irritated. He zipped up his pants after some adjustment.
"Me? She wants to see you, not me."
"I can't see her with a hard-on, now can I?" he snapped. Voice strained.
She laughed. "That's true. She touched his shoulder. "You better stand down, sweetie, before that tent in your pants becomes a hazard to the table."
"Moira! It's not funny!"
She laughed. "At ease, soldier. And yes, it is. I'll go let her in."
"Moira! No!"
She laughed at his consternation, his scowl. She hastened through her room to his. Smoothing down her shirt. Very conscious of not having on a bra. Very conscious of the material clinging over every curve and swell. Of her still hard nipples poking the fabric. Of their wetness from John's mouth. Of the wet arousal between her legs. She sighed, opened the door. "Doctor Weir, please. John and I were just going over the mission specs. John. John!" she called.
After a few moments John appeared. His shirt was fastened except for the first two buttons. He held an oversized notebook casually in front of him, blocking the view of his waist and his crotch. He walked with an exaggerated limp. Met Moira's gaze, eyes narrowing in warning.
Moira grinned. A laugh escaped her. "You know, um, John, one of those mini memo pads would have sufficed," she teased with a smirk.
He glowered at her amusement, said nothing until he passed her. Voiced in a low, husky tone near her ear, "I need a fucking billboard, baby." He passed her as she snorted, trying not to laugh. He forced aside his own amusement. Swallowed his own laughter. Schooled his expression. "Elizabeth. Moira and I were just going over the mission specs."
"So she said." Elizabeth eyed him. Glanced past him to see Moira standing near the table, fussing with a bunch of roses. Elizabeth eyed him again. Knowing she had interrupted something. Something far more interesting than mission specs. "I need to see you, John. In my office, please."
"Oh? Oh...okay. Um...let me finish up here first, though. Say in an hour?"
Moira snorted. "Really, John? Really? An hour? I think we'll be finished up here in ten minutes...maybe five...hmm...maybe two."
"Make it two hours," John said tersely, annoyed but enjoying the teasing. "Is that all right? I'd go with you now, but Moira..." He sighed heavily, shook his head. "Moira is a real stickler for all the details. Every little detail, over and over, until it's squeezed and sucked dry." He heard a slight clink as if she had dropped something. Smiled.
Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow. "I see. That would be fine, John. Thank you."
John held in his laughter as he walked Elizabeth to the door. As she left. As he closed the door. As he made his way over to Moira who was laughing into her hand. "You!" He smacked her rear.
"John! No! You–" Moira burst into laughter as he caught her, spun her round. He dropped the notebook and grabbed a chair. Sat. Hauled her over his knees. "John, John!" she squealed as he proceeded to spank her rear.
John laughed as she squirmed. "Keep still, baby! You've been very naughty and you will take your punishment! Shit! I should rip these pants off you and spank that pert little ass blue!"
"John! John, cut it out!" Moira was laughing, squirming. She squealed as he grabbed, squeezed.
"Finest pert little ass in the galaxy! And I'm going to spank it blue!" He freed her.
Moira stood, backing away from him. "No you're not, sweetie!"
He grinned. "The fuck I'm not!" He moved to her, steps nimble, quick. Pushed her against the wall and kissed her passionately. Shoving his body into hers. "Take care of my ordnance!"
She laughed. "As ordered, colonel." She pushed, turned them so he was against the wall. She moved to her knees in front of him. Undid his pants. Unzipped. Yanked them down. "Aww..sweetie...so–"
"No! Now boxer comments or I swear to God I'll take every pair of panties that you own!" he threatened harshly.
She smirked. Bit back her teasing comment at his red checkered shorts with tiny planes on them. She stroked, stroked the projecting hardness. Suddenly ran her mouth along his bare thigh.
John groaned, shifting. Staring at her. She moved closer. Lifted his shirt to run kisses along his waist. Slowly pulled down his shorts to kiss his hip, his pelvis. She paused, fingers playing on the silky fabric. Still encasing him. "Hmm...Colonel Sheppard...let's just test the strength and range of this so-called bazooka, shall we?" Her voice was soft, sultry. He felt a shiver of anticipation run down his back. His rear clenched, hips thrusting in readiness. "Fuck," he muttered. Touched her shoulders.
Moira tilted her head. "Hmm...it's so big, so long...but don't you worry, sweetie, I'll make it fit somehow," she teased. Fingers sliding to stroke between his legs. She ran her mouth against the silky material. Kissing the hard length of him. Then took him into her mouth.
John groaned, tensing, staring. His fingers tangling her hair as she eased him in. Then paused. Caught him gently with her teeth, pressing. Then scraped her teeth along the length of him as she freed him from her mouth. The silky material melting in her mouth. John groaned, grunted. He could feel her teeth through the thin fabric. The moist heat, the snug fit as she closed over him. He shuddered, fingers tightening in her hair. Watching himself emerge from her mouth inch by inch.
Moira paused at the head of his cock and pressed harder, sucked. She heard his elongated moan, the strain. Felt him jerk wildly in her mouth. Coming with a sudden spurt. She freed him. Sat back on her knees, scooting a little back from him. Slowly her gaze raked up him as he freed her hair. "Was that tight enough for you, sweetie?"
John couldn't speak for a moment. About to come in his shorts. Cock so engorged he thought he'd explode. He swallowed. Moved to grab her arms, haul her to her feet. "Yes," he rasped, "But not wet enough." He kissed her but she shoved him into the wall. Laughed.
She stepped away from him. Turned back and smiled. Giving him a coy look over her shoulder as she wiggled her hips provocatively. "Well? We have two hours, sweetie. Let's see exactly what you can do with that bazooka of yours."