The Cheese Cake

“Slow down, you’re going to choke—“ Grissom admonished, but Sara was busily licking her fork. He gave a pained sigh.


“For a simple piece of cheesecake you’re sure giving the silverware a serious tongue washing—“ he complained, watching her intently. She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, turning her attention back to the now empty plate with a sigh.


“All gone . . .” came her sad little pout. She cast a longing glance at Grissom’s plate, but he shook his head, a gleam in his eye.


“No—this one is MINE, Sara.”


“Oh, but you don’t even know how to eat it right—“ Sara taunted lightly. Grissom clutched his plate closer.


“I know EXACTLY how I want to eat this—“ He announced in a low tone, “—Unless you’re—“


“—Chicken? Oh please—“ Sara arched an eyebrow at him. “I can handle anything YOU can dish out, plain and simple—“


Grissom set the cheesecake down and began to advance on her; Sara looked up as he managed to back her against his kitchen wall.


“Is that a bet?” came his dangerous whisper.


She looked up into his wickedly amused eyes and a hot throb rolled between her legs, making her flush. Sara lifted her chin to hide her arousal.


“Yeah—I bet.”


***     ***     ***


“Back in  nineteen eighty-two, I was stuck in a hospital in Costa Rica while doing my doctorate fieldwork on the life cycle of the Monarch. While I recovered from a particularly rough bout of dysentery, I read. There were only three books in English in the place,” Grissom commented. He looked down at Sara’s right wrist, and deftly tightened the slipknot around it while she watched, wide-eyed. Looping the bathrobe sash around the headboard he continued.


“Three paperbacks: one was Jonathon Livingston Seagull, the second was a Matt Helm adventure—number twenty-eight I think—and the last one was a doubleback. Have you ever seen one of those? Two books bound together front to back? Well this was a fairly interesting pair—Spank Me to Heaven, and Betty in Bondage.”


“Oh dear God—“ Sara gulped.


“Yep. Trite, full of laughable clichés, painfully bad dialog and impossible sex—I must have read both stories about fifteen times,” Grissom mused thoughtfully. He pulled the other end of the sash tight, and looped it around Sara’s left wrist, tugging it tightly.




“As much as I can be I suppose,” Sara licked her lips and looked up at him. Grissom let his gaze travel down her supine form appreciatively. Sara was in her peach slip and long white thigh high stockings. Although she was putting on a brave face, Grissom could sense her trepidation; stooping, he kissed her deeply, letting his tongue slide in a teasing caress inside her mouth. Sara whimpered softly when he pulled away.


“I digress. The point I was trying to make, Sara, was that while the stories were almost comical, they did have enough heat to--intrigue me. For a long time afterwards I wondered if I was normal. Lord knows it wasn’t the sort of variation I could suggest with a casual date, and I had no one serious in my life at the time, so I merely filed it away in the fantasy zone . . .” he mildly trailed off.


“And now?” Sara wriggled her hips, shooting a look at him through her lowered lashes. He swayed a bit, looking down at her.


“Now--I think I may have a chance to see if I like my dessert heated,” he grinned, his dimples showing. Sara drew in a deep breath as he flicked her slip up, baring her torso in the candlelight.


“Let’s see—well we need a flat surface for this—“ He taunted, running a hand over her warm stomach and down to the fluffy fur between her thighs. Sara tensed at his touch, looking up at Grissom, who was on the verge of tipping the plate over her midriff.


“Although your northern terrain is sweetly elevated, I think there’s a nice spot between the foothills and the forest for this—“ lightly he let the cheesecake fall with a moist thud onto her stomach. Sara squealed at its unexpected coolness. Grissom squatted to get an eye level view and licked his lips.


“A perfect shot. Oh—this seems to be a little chilly for you . . .” Strong fingers brushed the slip higher and flicked playfully over Sara’s hard nipples; helpless, she gave a surprised moan.


“There’s . . . no CAKE on those. . .” she tried to point out. Grissom bent over until his warm mouth lightly brushed the puckered tips.


“I’m getting to it . . .” he breathed against her skin. With a twist, Sara tried to lift her head, but without her arms to support her it was difficult. As Grissom let his white teeth tighten around one nipple, Sara squirmed.


“Ahhhhh, now that’s just EVIL, Babe . . .” she breathlessly accused. He flashed her a grin.


“Yes.” Casually, he began to unbutton his shirt, giving her a wink.


“I think I can save us some laundry here,” Grissom rumbled in a low voice. Sara wanted to laugh bravely, but the sight of his bare chest stopped her. She sighed instead, focusing on the flat broad pecs. Grissom dropped the shirt off the side of the bed and leaned over her, one big hand next to each hip. Sara fixed her eyes on his strong bare back.


“Hey, it’s melting—“ came the surprised observation over his shoulder. Sara shuddered. Grissom dropped on her, mouth wetly pressing into the smeary mess across her tight stomach.


She gasped loudly, squirming under him as he slurped away.


“Oh yes--“ came his dreamy mutter, “This has GOT to be the ultimate method for sugar ingestion . . .”


“OhGodthatticklesGrissomstopstopstop!” Sara wheezed, struggling hard against the loops on her wrists. Either he didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her protests; in any case, Grissom settled his elbows on either side of her waist, and let his hot tongue slide in long even strokes along her stomach. Sara was starting to pant, her entire body tense against the sensual torment being inflicted on her. Grissom hummed against her wet skin happily.


“This is amazing—sugar, salt, lemon—Sara, you taste INCREDIBLY good—“


Sara choked a sob. Every nerve throughout her torso was on fire now, the heat rolling in waves down her stomach to build in the valley between her thighs. Grissom climbed onto the bed, stretching out over her on all fours, his knees now on either side of her head. She stretched her face up, nuzzling along the thin fabric of his boxers against the long heated ridge. Feeling it, Grissom gave a strangled gasp and looked down between their bodies at her. Sara wanted to laugh; he had cheesecake smeared from his chin to his cheekbones, turning parts of his beard white.


“No, this is MY turn—“ he wiped a bare forearm across his face, cleaning it for the moment. Sara defiantly pressed her open mouth to the thin flannel above her, and Grissom shuddered.


“NO.” he repeated in such a commanding tone of voice that Sara moaned. He rolled off of her to one side, catching his breath for a moment.


“You told me you could handle ANYTHING I dished out, Sara . . . . If you can’t, just say so,” came his hiss from between clenched teeth.


“I can TAKE it—“ she protested, licking her lips. Her nipples were aching, and she wanted so very much to feel his hands on her again, but he didn’t touch her.


“Then behave yourself.” Grissom warned, his voice a low, silky warning. Sara closed her eyes. She felt the soft return of his mouth to the flat of her stomach, tongue roaming freely as he leaned over again, keeping his body at her side.


“Such a good plate you are, too—nearly clean . . .” came his comment. She tensed as one warm hand slid a washcloth over her skin. It was heated, but as it wiped her, the flesh underneath chilled in the air. She raised her head to watch.


Grissom looked different, and she felt a hot pang between her thighs at the sight of his expression. The candlelight made his silver curls gleam, and the smoky blue of his eyes glinted with wicked amusement.


“Nearly done—“ Grissom purred. “I do dishes very well,”


“Yyyyesss you do,” Sara gasped. He swiped the rest of her down, leaving goose bumps in his wake before rising up and leaving the bedroom. Sara ground her teeth together.


“Okay, okay, you’ve had your cheesecake, now let me GO—“ she grumbled after him. He didn’t return, and for a long moment, Sara trembled, wondering where he was. When he sauntered back in and lounged in the doorway, looking down at her, she tried not to react, but it was nearly impossible. He came closer, standing at the edge of the bed, his lips pursed thoughtfully.


“This is the moment of truth, Sara my love,” came the soft confession. “Do I let you go? I know all we agreed to was cheesecake, but—“


Sara’s eyes traveled up his body to his face. He was brooding, serious, achingly hard but still in control. She drew in a breath.


“Come here—“ she begged softly. He leaned over, knuckles braced on the mattress as he looked down into her face. Their gazes locked in a long a steamy stare that spoke volumes. Sara arched up and let her gaze drop through her lashes.


“WhatEVER you dish out---“ came her soft as a sigh promise. Grissom drew back and licked his lips, looking pleased and frighteningly intense.


“Yes. Oh yes, pretty Sara I can dish out quite a bit for you—“ came his silky promise. Catlike, he ran long fingers down her stocking covered thighs to her knees. “So nice.”


He shucked his way out of the flannel boxers, letting them drop to the floor, then moved to the foot of the bed, gazing up her prone body. His hand dropped to his hard cock, stroking it once.


“Naked, tied up in my bed just for me, ah Christ, NICE—“ he repeated, dry-mouthed. Sara raised her head, seeing herself, silky slip yanked up to her ribcage, skin gleaming from the washcloth, and Grissom at her feet letting his lust-filled gaze burn into her skin. She groaned, and brought her knees together, but Grissom shook his head.


“Too late to be shy, pretty  Sara . . .  show it to me—“ He told her, climbing onto the mattress on his knees between her ankles, stroking the stockings with his thumbs. The intensity of his gaze make her skin hot, made the fire in her belly flare up. Sara writhed for him.


“Sweeet, oh God yesss—“ Grissom dropped down on all fours and let his teeth nip her knee, his hot breath on the stocking. “Show it to me. You want to, I can tell, Sara—“


She did, she realized dimly. With slow grace, she let her knees slide apart, and bent them, letting her thighs open under Grissom’s eyes. He licked the sensitive skin at the top of her thigh-high stockings, leaving the flesh wet from his mouth.


“Ahh, yes. Shamelessly sweet Sara. You’re wet, honey. I can see you, I can smell you. Hot for me, WANT me, don’t you?”


“Yessss—“ she groaned as his mouth nipped at her hipbone. Grissom was teasing her by kissing her hips, her belly, circling around the thatch of fur just under his chin, his words muffled on her hungry skin.


“You want me to kiss it, don’t you?  You’re dying for me to slide my tongue all over your hot little pink bud, wouldn’t care who watched us—“


“Gilll—“ she called breathlessly. He laughed, a low sound in his throat.


“Your turn. Beg me, Sara. Tell me EXACTLY what you want,” he ordered roughly. She gave a sound between a sob and a laugh, feeling the coarse words spill from her throat.


“Eat me, Grissom! I want your mouth on my pussy and I want you to eat me!”


“Oh my, such language. You kiss me with that mouth?” he teased. She growled.




With a delicate flick, he slid his hot tongue into her; Sara arched up, biting her lips in sheer delight. He lapped a few times and pulled back.




“No! More, Grissom, more!”


“Say please.”


“Jesus, please Grissom!!” Sara felt tears of frustration beginning to spill from her eyes. He dropped his head and sucked her velvety folds; Sara gasped at the intensity of it.


“Talk to me or I stop—“ he hissed. She gulped and nodded wanting to touch his silver curls, straining against the loops that held her pinned to the bed.


“Yess, Grissom, like that, oooooh yes, you have the hottest damned tongue baby, I love you oohhhGodohGod, I’m soo close Grissom . . . .” Her ass tightened, but as she arched up, he pulled away, leaving her dangling on the edge. Swiftly he shifted forward, pressing the hot head of his cock between the tight folds of her sex.


“I need you, Sara, RIGHT NOW—“ he grunted desperately.


Roughly Grissom thrust forward, hard. His engorged cock slid slickly into the tightness with a squelching sound and Sara wailed as his first stroke took her over the edge. She bucked against him; he was quivering with tension, forcing himself to keep still as she flailed under him, her climax hard and wild.


“Yes, come for me Sara, come—“ he urged through gritted teeth. When she was finally limp, he planted one hand over her shoulder on the mattress to support himself, and let the other slide under her ass, pulling her up onto him.


“My turn, Sara. Damn it! I need you so badly honey, need to fill you hard--“ came his wild moan, “FILL you, Sara, TAKE it—“ he thrust brutally, muscles gleaming with sweat as he rode her. Sara wrapped her legs high around his back, tightening them as she opened her mouth, breathing hard.


“Grissom, harder, I can take it, yes, give it to me HARD—“ she growled at him. He dropped his face to hers, teeth clamping on her lower lip as he suddenly exploded in wet thrusts of animal pleasure deep inside her. His sweat dripped on her cheeks as he growled, spasms dying away, his body pinning hers completely.


“Oh Jesus!” he moaned softly into her ear. “Oh God I think I just came out of my ears!” he laughed. She giggled exhaustedly into his hair.


“Me too. Oh, God, me too, Babe. Can you--?”


He reached up, tugging the tail of the slipknot on her right wrist, then her left. Sweetly, he kissed her face, murmuring soft words of love and praise as he rubbed her arms and rolled off of her, pulling her close.


“That’s it. Verification, Sara. I AM a freak. That was one of the hottest moments of my life, and it was all because—“


“--Because we were consenting adults who trusted each other?” she murmured sleepily. He yawned.


“Because you let me do something I never thought I’d get the chance to do—“ he admitted gruffly. “I was bad, Sara. Very bad.”


“Yep,” she sighed happily. “ But you’re so good when you’re bad, Grissom.”





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