Inhibition11

Moira pulled the towel from him. Dropped it to the floor. "Your theory, colonel. About peanut butter versus caramel," she purred. Stepping closer. She reached up on tiptoe to run her tongue up his jaw to his ear, tasting his sweat.

"Oh? Oh..." he realized. Smiled.

She ran her hands up his chest. Nails raking along the sweaty confines of his snug shirt. "John." She kissed him. Savoring his lips, their softness, their fullness. "Let's test that theory, shall we, colonel? From a purely scientific point of view, of course."

"Of course," he agreed as she backed him up to the bed. "Um, Moira? Moira, are you–"

She kissed him again. "Yes, oh yes, sweetie. Skip the shower. My God you are gorgeous! So gorgeous, John, it shouldn't be allowed." She pushed him onto the bed. Moved over him, kissing him. Murmuring as her hands wandered. As her body pressed into his.

John returned her kisses, scooting with her up the bed to the pillows. "Moira...um...not that I would like nothing better than to test this theory but we really should talk about oh fuck," he groaned as she kissed his throat, licking up to circle his ear. To bite. Bite harder as her other hand slid down his thigh to grasp his reaction. Squeezing slightly to make him moan.

Moira sat. Smiled. "Back in a sec, sweetie. Get those fucking clothes off, would you?"

He smirked. "Moira? Are you–"

"Don't you dare deny the pregnant woman, John. Trust me, sweetie, it will be worth it. Now strip." She kissed him again. Slid off him and moved into his room.

John smiled, anticipating the love play. The teasing. The sex. Deciding he sat, pulled off his clothes. Kicked off his shoes. Touched his shorts, debating. Already becoming aroused by her seductions. He stood, uncertain. Watched her emerge from his room. He stared. Moira had on a sheer, sheer white linen shirt, sloppily buttoned. It fell to her thighs. Her legs and feet were bare. As she moved to the bed he caught a glimpse of very skimpy pale blue panties, sheer as well. "Fuck," he muttered happily.

Moira moved to the dresser. "Shorts too, sweetie, unless you don't want your ordnance to be involved."

"Moira...exactly what are you planning?"

She turned to him. Held up the manacles. A jar of peanut butter.

John's smile broadened. "Oh baby...kinky sex? Kinky sex now? Now? I mean...now?"

She walked over to him. "Is that a no, John?" She tilted her head, eying him up and down, up and down. "Is John Sheppard saying no to kinky?"

He smirked. "John Sheppard always says yes to kinky, baby."

She smiled. "Then get on the fucking bed, sweetie. And lose the shorts, cute as they are." She smirked at the pink and blue stripes.

"Hilarious, Moira." He licked his lips. "You better be nearly naked under there."

She dipped her finger into the jar. Produced a glob of peanut butter. She slid it into her mouth. Sucked. Sucked. Moaned.

John stared. Softly groaned. Gaze riveted on her mouth. On her finger sliding in and out, in and out. "Fuck, baby..." He yanked off his shorts and reclined on the bed.

Moira smirked as his interest was all too evident now. She moved over him. Kissed him. "Relax, sweetie." She slid up, hooked the manacles to the headboard. Took one wrist and secured it above his head in the handcuff. John was trying to see under the shirt as it gaped open in places. He caught a glimpse of her bare breast until she moved. Straddling his chest to take his other wrist. She paused, fingers on the black wristband. "You know, John, you don't have to wear this on account of me. I mean, I 've seen the scars," she noted.

"I know, baby. It's a fashion statement now. Don't you think it makes me look mysterious? Dangerous?"

She smiled. "Sure, sweetie." She kept hold of his hand, dipped his finger into the nearby jar. Lifted his finger with the glob of peanut butter to her lips. Inserted it. Sucked, sucked. John groaned, shifting under her. Reacting vividly as she shifted on him. She gently bit his finger. Freed his hand and secured it to the manacle. "Okay, sweetie. You know about the push button release. So don't break the headboard. And you know the safe word." She slyly smiled. "Hmm..do you want a taste first?"

"Yes." He watched her dip her finger into the jar. Cover it with peanut butter. She moved her finger to her lips, paused. Smiled. Opened the shirt. Unbuttoned another button. To his delight smeared the peanut butter over a bare breast. Covering her rosy nipple.

"Now do you want a taste, sweetie?" she purred, voice sultry.

"God yes!" he answered huskily. He lifted his head as she leaned down, down. He kissed her breast, rattling the chains as he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked greedily.

Moira moaned softly, arching into him, pressing herself on his chest so he could feel her wetness through the panties. She pulled back suddenly as he freed her. "Well?"

"Delicious. Peanut butter with a swirl of Moira."

She kissed him. Moved up on her knees over him. Fingered another glob of the peanut butter. John watched in tense anticipation. Wondering what she would do, where she would go. Moira smeared it on her upper thigh. "Want another taste, sweetie?"

"Oh fuck yes!" he enthused happily. Rattled the chains.

"Hmm..okay, John. Oh John," she said softly, drawing out his name, "could you remove my panties as well?"

He grinned. "Fuck yes, baby!"

She scooted up, up so he could reach. She caught hold of the headboard. John lifted his head and kissed up her thigh. Licking. Nibbling the peanut butter trail to her panties. He grunted, growled as he breathed deeply. The scent of her arousal flooding him with lust. Need. Her soft sounds made him dive into her. Mouthing the panties, nibbling and teasing. Moira shifted, gyrating as he teased, taunted. She gasped as he gently bit. Carefully caught the panties in his teeth and pulled, pulled, lowering his head. She wiggled as they slid down, down.

John freed the material as he got an eyeful of her until she moved off him. Removed them and set them near the pillow. "Fuck, baby...nice and wet and–"

She slid over him, kissing him. Kiss after kiss as if she would devour his mouth. Her hands running in his hair, along his arms, his chest, his sides. He slid his tongue into her mouth. But she moved to nibble up his throat, to circle his ear and bite until he shifted under her. She sat. Smeared some peanut butter on his inner arm. "Test run, sweetie, to test the consistency." She slid her mouth along it. Nibbling. Nibbling.

John moaned at the seductions. Her mouth tickling his arm. Her hair falling all about them like a silken caress. Her body pressing onto his.

Moira scooted down to his waist. "Hmm...I see what you mean, sweetie. About consistency. Tell me, John," she drew out his name again as her fingers ran down his chest, his waist, nails slightly scratching, "were you this way with your lots some women?"

"Huh?" John had been reveling in the erotic sensations. Staring at her as the shirt gaped to reveal her breasts. The feel of her warm, soft body on his.

She scooted lover, brushing over his erection to make him groan loudly. "Ssh, colonel! Quiet or you won't get off the way you want!"

"Sorry, baby...damn..."

She smeared some peanut butter on his thigh. "Answer the question, colonel. You know, sweetie, I was never this kinky, or bold, or brazen until I met you."

"I know," he smugly agreed. Swore softly as she kissed up his thigh, nibbling the peanut butter.

"Oh fuck! Fuck Moira! Fuck, that is so–"

"Ssh!" She sat. "I'm not kidding, John! Quiet! Can't you follow orders, colonel?"

"Yes, ma'am. Keep going, please."

"Did you ever do these kinds of things with your lots some women?"

"Yes. Some. More or less."

"Hmm." She drew a glob of peanut butter onto her fingers as he watched. Captivated. "Some liked it less? Some more?"

"Yes..." His voice was strained as he watched her. Wanted her. The chains rattled.

"Did any of them choose caramel?"

He smiled. "No, baby. That's yours alone. Moira's kinky caramel."

"Good answer, sweetie." She smeared the glob onto his erection, smoothing it along his hard length. "How many went down on you?" she asked, almost sounding bored. "John?"

He groaned, pursed his lips together to quiet his arousal as he began to throb. The anticipation was even worse then her stroking fingers as she slathered him in peanut butter. His body was tense, every muscle straining. Yearning for her. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck um, um, some. A few...damn it, Moira, just fuck me!"

"Ssh! I was just curious, John. Just curious." She slid down, kissing his pelvic bone. Down lower. Lower. John rattled the chains, yanking at them. The headboard hit the wall. He lifted his head to watch her. His head fell back as he moaned. As she kissed up his erection. Began to nibble. Delicate motions of her mouth along the hard length of him.

John lost himself in ecstasy. Pleasure mounting as she nibbled, nibbled. Up towards the head. He tensed, arching some, moving. Lifted his head again to see her taking him into her mouth suddenly. He grunted, gasped. Moira sucked. Sucked hard at the peanut butter. Her tongue swirling. Her lips sliding up and down him. Biting now to remove the peanut butter. Biting all along him, up towards the head.

John groaned loudly, falling back onto the bed. The chains rattling wildly as he yanked in response. Writhing and thrusting. His cock throbbing between pleasure and pain as her bites became harder, harder still. He bucked as she reached the sensitive head and bit down, pressing so hard he gasped, felt tears as the surge of lust, pain, pleasure, release. He was coming hard, fast, couldn't stop. Jerking wildly in her mouth now, thrusting into her. "Fuck!" The word exploded out of him as her teeth bit all along him again, a rough wooing to bring him. To make him beg, to make him plead. Engorged now, so hard he thought he'd die. Tears spotted his vision and he closed his eyes, moaning like a man in pain, in pleasure. Caught between the two, unable to tell the difference. "Strawberries." The safe word escaped his lips without him even knowing it.

Until he felt her absence suddenly. The cool air on his wet, hard cock. Bobbing wildly in the air like an exclamation. Spurting a little as a tiny spasm shook him. Made him shiver. "Moira?" he croaked, opening his eyes. Lifting his head to see her. She was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Looking irritated. Beautiful. "What?" he rasped.

"You were right. Peanut butter is much less lickable than caramel. You really have to bite down on it," she informed. Voice serious.

"I know..." he enthused. "Moira...Moira, please...please, baby...you...please..."

She slowly smiled, gaze roving over every inch of him. She slid up, gently kissed his lips. "As ordered, colonel," she whispered into his ear. Slid back down his body. Began to kiss along his erection again. Tasting traces of peanut butter, arousal, sweat. John groaned, shifting. Shifting in renewed tension. She nibbled, nibbled. Teasing, tormenting as he squirmed. The chains rattling noisily. The headboard slamming the wall.

John nearly shouted, an inarticulate sound of pleasure, pain, delight when she took him into her mouth again. Biting and swirling. Her fingers clawing his thighs now, then sliding between his legs to feel every intimate part of him. To cup the heaviness, tickling until he thought he'd die again. Biting and biting up and up to the head. At that moment John didn't care if she bit off his cock or not, as long as she brought him the release he so desperately needed. Craved. He bucked, groaned, fell back. Closed his eyes, arching up into her as the rush to orgasm proceeded.

The release came. He couldn't stop it. He groaned, grunted. Thrusting wildly now. Thrusting hard into that tight, hot, moist place. Faster and faster, harder. He felt muscles squeezing on him now, riding him hard, riding him fast. He opened his eyes suddenly, fearing he would throw Moira to the floor. He stared. Moira had freed him from her mouth. Only to take him into her now. Was riding him hard, fast. Her soft sounds escalating wildly as she gyrated, bouncing and bouncing. Swaying as if she would fall. John swiftly undid the manacles, slid his arms down. Grabbed her rear and squeezed.

Moira's eyes flew open, feeling his hands on her rear. Guiding her, supporting her. He lifted, thrusting harder, deeper. Slid his hands round to grab hers. She pushed into them, pressing them to the bed as their fingers entwined, as their bodies entwined. Tangled in passion, in need. She cried out as she came, the climax a sharp rush pulsing along her body. As John pulsed repeatedly in her. Until he slowed, slackened. Shuddered with the last gasps of lust. Moira lifted, freeing herself from him. Fell upon him, freeing her hands.

John tried to catch his breath. He was drenched in sweat, in saliva, in sexual fluids. Moira's hot body a weight on him, but one he welcomed. The pleasure leaving him speechless, spent. Unable to move, to even think. His hands stroking her back, sliding under the shirt to feel her naked flesh. "Fuck," he whispered.

Moira murmured against his skin. Shifted. Moved to eye him. "Oh John. Oh John..." She kissed up his throat. "That's how you fuck a colonel," she whispered into his ear.