Synthesis12

Moira scrambled out of the bed. Out of the tangled blankets. Out from under John's warm, heavy body. She flung back her hair, pulled on her shirt and panties. Grabbed her pants but his fingers suddenly enclosed her wrist, stopping her. "John?"

John smiled, sitting to keep better hold of her. "No. You and I both know we'll be at it again pretty soon, baby. A quickie's all well and good, but not enough. Seven. Seven, Moira!" he boasted.

"Five, sweetie. And yes, colonel, most impressive," she agreed, smiling at him. Can you manage to think above your belt now and help me with that flash drive?"

He freed her wrist. Considered. "Yeah. At the moment. Even though I am not wearing a belt. And it was seven, baby! Seven! Hey, let's go for ten! Do a triple and have them all at once."

"Hilarious, John! Five, and there is no way you could keep it up for another five. Come on, flyboy! I need another part of your anatomy now." As he laughed she moved to the table. Cleared a space for the data pad. Moving roses out of the way. She breathed in their heady fragrances. Touched the soft, delicate petals.

"That sounds like a challenge, baby," he teased, getting out of the bed. He pulled on his shorts, moved towards her. She was leaning to scoot the vases away from the data pad. "Wiggle that pert little ass for me, baby. Finest in two galaxies, I swear!"

"Shut up, John! I need you to focus!" she scolded, but wiggled her rear nonetheless.

He laughed. "Sweet! I am focused, believe me, Moira." He slid into the chair behind her.

Moira powered the machine. Sat. Gasped as she landed squarely on John's lap. "John!"

He laughed, held her there. "Right here, baby. Now talk to me about this flash drive you are so eager to explore."

Moira moved the cursor. Moved herself on him, getting comfortable. "Is your leg okay with this, John?"

"Yeah...fine. So are other parts of me too. Talk."

"I bet," she snorted, making him smile. "I've tried everything but I can't even get past the first encryption!" she complained. Paused as his hands rested on her bare thighs. As he leaned close. Warm breath ticking her cheek as he viewed the screen. "I only know that it should be something I should know, or you should know. What password would you use?"

"Hey, it wasn't me, remember? What have you tried?"

"Names. Dates. Even our code names. Sweetie. Baby. Even the safe word strawberries. But I don't think they had one. I mean I don't think they had a safe word. I don't think their relationship progressed as ours did. Unless the word isn't specific to them but to us. Specific to me. Probably you, John. But he thought I could guess it, or you could. Hell, I even tried panties but that wasn't it. John, what would you have used in this situation? John?" She shifted. "Are you listening to me or just trying to get it up?" she accused.

John laughed. "Both, actually, baby. I was thinking. Really. You tried O'Meara?"

"Yes. I told you I tried names, nicknames, code names. I don't know what else to try. Come on, mensa boy, use your brain cells instead of your cock."

"Mensa boy? At least I'm no longer a caveman."

"No, but you do grunt like one," she commented.

He laughed. "Fair enough, baby. Hmm...I would rather use my cock but all right." He kissed her cheek, thinking. "Something you could guess. And me. Something known only to us. Not to easy to break. I'd say caramel but he wouldn't." He shifted so her rear was pressing on his crotch. His arms went round her as he touched the keyboard. Typed a phrase. The screen came to life. "Bingo."

"Bingo? It was bingo?" she asked, surprised.

"No."

"What was the word? Come on, mensa boy, spill it!"

He smiled as she turned to eye him. He kissed her. "It was a phrase. Our phrase. No, your phrase. Oh John John John."

"What? It was..."

"Yes, baby. What you say when you come. Kinky minds think alike, I guess," he shrugged.

"I don't believe it," she grumbled, turning back to the screen. "No, I do believe it." She shook her head, eying the files popping into view.

"So logically the next password will be my phrase when I come. Observe. Secondary password." He typed it in. The screen blinked. The files lined up like soldiers.

"Oh! You mean fuck–"

"Fuck, fuck," he completed. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

"What? Using our phrases when we come as passwords?" she questioned, perusing the files.

"Yeah. And to just fuck, fuck, fuck," he teased into her ear. Kissed down her throat. He ran his hands up under her shirt to cup her breasts, to fondle. Caress.

"John...I...not now! You..." She murmured, shifting on his lap. Feeling his growing hardness under her. "Geez, John! What will the next one be? Don't answer that! Let's look at Wraith biology first." She moved the cursor to the file. Double clicked. "Shit. What password now?"

The cursor blinked, waiting.

"Hell if I know. Use your brain, paleo girl. I'm preoccupied." He ran his mouth down her throat again, fingers kneading her breasts. Moving in the chair to align himself with her. To spread her thighs a little more.

"Stop it," she said softly, not really complaining. But she considered. Typed. The file opened. "There! It was O'Meara. That wasn't too hard."

"No, not yet, but give it time," he wooed, shifting again.

She laughed. "Cut it out, John, this is serious!"

"Sorry. So...anything useful?" he asked, pausing in his attentions, his seductions.

"Yes. Look at this! The Wraith genome! Their Wraith, I mean, and ours...the ATA gene...look! It's almost a separate species! The retro-virus, the Hoffan serum, the enzyme...Ford's experiments! Look! It's all here! Some of these formulas are too complicated for me. We need Carson on this!"

"We'll get him," he assured. Perusing the other files over her shoulder.

Moira was still scrolling through the opened one. "Biochemical reactions. Versions of the enzyme. Whole genetic sequences we've only postulated so far! They are so ahead of us, John! It's scary how advanced they are!"

"Click on that. Technology."

She closed the file, move to the one he wanted. "Password?"

He considered as she shifted on his lap. Moving to feel his hardness between her legs now. Her body responding to him despite herself. She gyrated a little. He groaned softly, hands still on her breasts, cupping gently as he thought. "Sumner."

She glanced back at him. His handsome face was somber. Serious. She gently kissed him. Turned back and typed the name. The file opened.

John leaned closer, reading. "Scroll down. There. Wow...the technical readouts for the hybrid ship...Dart and Jumper diagnostics. Sweet. Look at that! Their P90s are modified with a laser stunner. Cool. What's that? It looks like a Wraith stunner but had Ancient drone tech in the launcher. Wow. McKay needs to see these specs ASAP."

"He will." She closed the file. "Where now?"

He glanced at the files. "Atlantis."

She moved the cursor there. "Password?"

"Hmm...give me a sec." He caressed her breasts again, kneading the nipples. Moira arched a little into him, lifting a little as his erection was trying to poke up into her panties. "John..."

"Gyrate, baby...damn you are getting wet now..." He kissed her throat, nibbled her earlobe. Moira whimpered as she gyrated on his lap. Slow motions to feel his arousal. His kisses alluring, hands seductive.

"John...oh John...I guess you were right about the sex...go for six?" she asked, the delicious anticipation building, building.

"Eight." He slid one hand down into her panties to probe, to rub. To slide into her as she gasped, shifted. Thighs widening on him. Leaning back into him as he gained more access. She tensed, lifting. The pleasure swirling, swirling. "John, oh John...John..."

He nibbled her earlobe, gently bit as his fingers probed, probed to make her arch, whimper, squirm on him now. "Get up." He freed her as she stood awkwardly. Leaning against the table. He yanked down the panties. "Sorry, baby, but I can't hold this any longer." He ripped the material off her, opened his shorts. Erection painful now. Eager. Hungry.

Moira gasped at the sound of tearing fabric. The feel of his hands ripping off the panties. Running along her inner thigh. She exclaimed as his mouth kissed down her lower back, shoving the shirt out of the way. He gently bit her rear making her cry out in surprise, arousal. He roughly pushed her down onto the table, thrust up and into her.

Moira cried out at the unexpected kinky actions. Her body flooding with desire, with need. His abrupt thrust startling. His bigness, hardness shoving her onto the table as he groaned, grunted. Began to earnestly rock her. She braced herself against the table, nearly shoving the data pad off the surface, nearly colliding with the roses as the table shook, shook with each deep thrust. She arched, squirmed, unable to stop sliding as he took her, controlled her. His strong grip on her hips hauled her back onto him, guiding her with each hard, deep thrust.

John groaned, groaned with the physical pleasure, the sexual excitement of taking her roughly, suddenly. A new position. A new angle creating a delicious snugness that his cock craved. He shoved her up higher, standing to thrust harder, faster now. Leaning to kiss her bare back, nibble her shoulder. He freed her hips to pin her wrists to the table.

Moira cried out, moaning, whimpering. Each sensation vivid, wild. As he brought her closer, closer. As he sped up to make the table vibrate under her. He groaned loudly, exulting in the sex, the possession, the release in his grasp now. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried as the climax blossomed brightly, enfolded her in waves of tense pleasure. His earnest thrusts and the table's vibrations transporting her to wild, wild passion. She grabbed the table, clenching hard on him as he kept her pinned down, helpless.

John groaned, pleasure and pain colliding with each exquisite spasm rocking his body. "Moira! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fucking sweet!" he growled as the orgasm slammed into him. Body tense, tight, then shuddering with violent relief. A frenzy of ejaculations until he finally slowed. Easing at last, gliding along her every fold, drowned in her heat, her wetness. Her muscles clenching in time to his last thrusts. "Moira, oh Moira...fuck! Fucking sweet! Come on, baby, keep doing that...oh fuck that is sweet!" He slowed. Leaned upon her. Kissed her shoulder, throat. Freed her wrists to slide his hands down her arms. "Eight, baby. Eight. Intense. Climaxes!" He punctuated each word with a last, possessive thrust. His voice low in her ear, husky. Male.

Moira gasped, stuttering whimpers escaping her as wave after wave of pleasure hit her. Then receded. "Six," she managed to correct. He chuckled, straightening. Hands sliding down to squeeze her rear, making her squirm. Reluctantly he pulled out of her. Pulled her up to her feet, onto his lap as he sat down in the chair. Exhausted. Sated. He caught her breasts again, but then turned her head to kiss her mouth. Over and over even as his hands wandered along her body again.

"John!" Moira fell back against him, sated. Amazed. Tired. She grabbed his hands at her waist before they wandered lower. "Six," she repeated. Breathless.

He smiled as she squirmed on his lap, trying to get comfortable. He moaned. "Ah baby, eight. Nine, actually, I think you doubled on the table, didn't you? Having sex with me and the table now, baby?" He slid his hand down to push between her legs.

"John!" She shoved his hand away from her, but he shoved it back, probing. A silent sob escaped her lips at his renewed attentions. He kissed her neck, her cheek. "John, John...oh God you are trying to kill me!" She squirmed, shoved his hand off her again.

He laughed quietly. "No, I just want to fuck, fuck, fuck," he intoned low. "Off. Now." He yanked the shirt. Smiled as she leaned forward to lift the shirt over her head. He swept her hair in front of her, kissed up her spine. "Turn to me, sweetheart. I want your mouth."

She lifted, turned to straddle him, facing him. Ran her hands up his chest, kissing him. Deep, delving kisses to entwine their tongues. She nibbled his lower lip, sucking, gently biting before moving across his stubbled jaw. Circled his ear and bit. He groaned, reveling in her attentions. He kissed her, ran his hands up and down her bare back. Pushed her gently back to kiss her breasts. Tongue swirling on her nipples. She arched, fingers tightening on his arms. "John, oh John...don't stop, don't stop..." she breathed.

"My Moira...so fucking sweet," he said low. Moving to kiss her mouth again. To claim possession of her. Over and over.

Moira lost herself in his kisses, his caresses. Hardly noticing when he moved, lifted her. Swept her up into his arms as he stood. Carried her to the bed. "John? John!"

He set her onto it, moved after her. "Later. We can do the rest later...fuck, I want you, baby. I want your undivided attention. I want all of you, Moira. Every luscious bit. I want to fuck us into oblivion again, you and me. I want to fuck the socks off your feet. I want all of your love for me, Moira. All of it."

She squirmed under him, pushing halfheartedly one moment, then lavishing kisses on him the next. "John, John, we're having too much sex again! John, we have to finish the flash drive! John, oh John, oh John, so fucking sweet!" she succumbed to his sensual attentions. "Go for seven?"

"Nine, baby! Go for nine!" he heartily agreed. Kissing her. Guiding her body to his, to where he needed it to be. Indulging in the sex. Indulging in the intimacy of their joining. Indulging in the emotional, physical excesses. Craving the repeated sexual intensity.

Craving Moira Sheppard.

Moira stirred. Woke hearing a loud, obnoxious noise. Realized it was John as he was snoring loudly, sprawled on his back in the bed. "John! John!" She elbowed him. He snorted, rolled onto his side, quieting. She shook her head, amused. She surveyed the darkened room. The data pad still open, the screen saver dancing in colored hues on the screen. The roses a dark forest around the hardware. She could smell the floral essences on the warm, still air. Along with the heavy scent of sex.

She moved a little, felt a tenderness from all of the exuberant, vigorous sex they had been having. Felt sensations all over, vivid. Intimate. She looked at John, wondering over his virility, his seemingly insatiable appetite. Not to mention hers. He was fast asleep, finally exhausted. Finally replete at last. She smirked, wondering if would be as amorous tomorrow. She felt hot. Touched her cheek, brow. She got out of the bed. Moved to her dresser and pulled on a pair of pajamas. Moved back to stare down at John.

He was still asleep, on his side. Hair a dark mess against the pillow. Long lashes veiling his closed eyes. Bare shoulder visible as the blankets covered the rest of his long, lean body. Legs sprawled across the bed. He started to snore softly again.

She crossed to his room. Moved back to the threshold. She pulled a few chairs across it, effectively creating a barrier, however flimsy. With a tired sigh she slipped into his bed. Pulled the covers up over her and snuggled. Needing to sleep. Needing to be alone for a little while. Needing a break from all of the emotional, physical excesses. A respite from the repeated sexual intensity.

A break from John Sheppard.