“Gil?” 

 

“Mm?”  He looked up from his rough draft to see Sara leaning a hip against the dining room table, a delicious contrast to the mess of paperwork thereon.  It was a leisurely trip for his eyes from her hips up to her face, and he savored the journey, ending at her eyes narrowed in pretend annoyance and her mouth twitching at one corner. 

 

He gave her an innocent smile, and she slowly grinned back, silently acknowledging his appreciation.  “Got any plans for this afternoon?” 

 

Grissom leaned back in his chair.  “Nothing that can’t be postponed, why?”  

 

“It’s my turn.” 

 

Her statement confused him.  “Your turn for what?” 

 

Sara reached out and deftly removed his glasses from his nose, making him blink.  “Remember when we indulged in your fantasy?” 

 

Her smile had gone sultry.  Grissom blinked again, trying to figure out which fantasy she meant--she’d fulfilled so many--and then he had it.  “Reciprocity?” 

 

“Mmm-hmm.”  She set his glasses aside, folding the earpieces neatly in.  “That was the deal.” 

 

So it had been.  That was one of his more savored memories--the sight of Sara lost to ecstasy again and again, and knowing that it was he who had brought her to it.  The fact that she had actually passed out from pleasure had become a small smug triumph that he kept very much to himself. 

 

But he hadn’t really thought about the other side of it.  Sara had demanded a turn, but the subject hadn’t been raised again, and it had slipped his mind. 

 

“Well,” he found himself saying, “I do try to pay my debts.”  His body was already reacting to the suggestion, almost embarrassingly quickly, and Grissom shifted slightly in his seat.  He wasn’t quite sure what Sara had in mind...but whatever it is, it’ll be...memorable. 

 

Sara smiled, and held out a hand.  Grissom put his own in hers, and let her tug him to his feet. 

 

She led him to their bedroom; this time, the candles were already lit.  Grissom reached for the hem of his polo shirt, a little uncertain, but Sara shook her head, and reached up to undo the buttons at the collar.  She folded back the plackets and placed a kiss on the skin beneath, then lifted the shirt away. 

 

Grissom felt somewhat odd just standing there, but it was Sara’s turn to be in charge, so he simply waited for direction.  She undressed him with gentle hands, unbuckling his belt and pulling it from the loops, unsnapping the buttons of his fly with slow ease.  Watching her strip him was erotic in its own right, Grissom realized; she was confident and easy, bending to tug on his jeans and letting her breath brush his skin.  It raised pleasant goosebumps, and he held back a shiver. 

 

When he was nude, Sara leaned up to kiss him quickly on the lips.  “Go ahead and lie down,” she directed softly.  “On your stomach.” 

 

The top sheet and comforter were folded neatly at the bottom of the mattress, leaving an expanse of smooth cotton that was cool against his skin when he obeyed, but which warmed quickly. 

 

Grissom turned his head so he could watch Sara, and rested it on his folded arms.  She was removing her own jeans, leaving her in a camisole top and plain pink panties; a quietly sexy outfit that was nevertheless one of his favorites, partly because it suited her so well. 

 

And partly because it had been the set he’d had the privilege to remove the first time they’d made love. 

 

Now Sara draped both their pants over the hamper sitting in one corner, putting his shirt on top, and sauntered over to the bedside chest of drawers.  “Same rules, you know--if you want to stop, just say the word.” 

 

“Mm-hmm.”  He didn’t feel apprehensive about this--just somewhat curious.  There were certain physiological differences-- 

 

Sara opened one of the drawers and took out a small bottle.  “Unfortunately, I can’t repeat what you did for me,” she said, her voice low and a little teasing.  “So we’ll go another route.  Remember, no touching.” 

 

Grissom nodded as best he could with his head down.  Sara leaned over to whisper in his ear.  “You had the fantasy for longer, but I have to tell you...I’ve been dreaming of this ever since you told me about yours.” 

 

That made a flush of heat race under his skin, and Grissom had to reach under his hips and adjust himself.  Sara chuckled, and knelt on the bed, down next to his feet. 

 

“I really couldn’t get the idea out of my head,” she went on, laying the palms of her hands on the soles of his feet and rubbing with a slow pushing motion that felt wonderful.  “I mean, all those years of wondering what you looked like under your work clothes, or your court suit...” 

 

Her long fingers were working clever magic on his feet, waking up the tough skin and making his toes wriggle.  He’d often thought of her feet as objects of attraction, long and graceful as they were, but had never considered his own worthy of any but the most basic attention--and certainly not as an erogenous zone.  But the gentle pinch of her grip on his heels was most definitely pleasurable, as was the stroke of her thumbs over the arches. 

 

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all by now,” Sara went on, shifting her weight and attention as her hands drifted up to his calves.  “But there’s something to be said for taking the time to just...admire.” 

 

The sudden touch of her lips on the tender flesh at the back of his knee made Grissom start slightly.  “I’m not--” he tried to protest, but Sara squeezed his calf lightly. 

 

“Nope, sorry, Gil.  You’re yummy, that’s all there is to it.”  She dropped another kiss on the back of his thigh, and the soft quick touch sent a thrill through his body and distracted him from any protest. 

 

Well, almost any.  “Yummy?” 

 

Sara chuckled again.  “Want me to prove it?” 

 

“Does it involve a third party’s opinion?” Grissom riposted weakly, most of his attention going to the sensation of Sara’s hands on his thighs as she stroked the long muscles. 

 

“Nope.”  Her touch moved up over his backside, kneading lightly, an action that had him tensing pleasurably.  “Patience, and all will become clear.” 

 

He couldn’t spare the brain cells to banter with her any longer as Sara worked her way up to the small of his back, pressing away the knot that always seemed to form just over his tailbone.  Then he gasped as the damp warmth of her tongue traced its way up his spine to his nape. 

 

“Not bad for a start,” Sara informed him cheerfully, and went back to cover the same ground with her hands.  He heard a small snap, and when she touched him again he could feel the slick warmth of oil on her hands.  The scent, light and equally warm, rose to his nose--the subtle vanilla they both preferred, a clean and sensuous odor. 

 

She took her time over the muscles of his back, soothing him almost into somnolence but at the same time waking all his nerves until they were murmuring with desire.  Little kisses along his vertebrae, much the same as he had done for her, kept him entirely aware of her, of what she was doing to him. 

 

Finally her fingers caressed the nape of his neck.  “Roll over for me,” Sara coaxed softly, and Grissom did so, having to consciously stop himself from pulling her down to him. 

 

He looked up to her face; her pleased smile held an edge of wonder, and she shook her head.  “I’m really starting to get why this is such a compelling fantasy,” she told him. 

 

Her words made him swallow.  “Kiss me?” he asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt her pattern but yearning for the touch. 

 

Sara’s smile went wry, and she tucked her hair behind her ear before bending gracefully down to him.  The candlelight warmed her skin, gilding her freckles, and made her eyes a mystery he could get lost in.  Grissom met her lips with his, not trying to control the kiss; just trying to let her know what an amazement she was to him. 

 

Then her hands were pressing his shoulders back into the mattress, and Grissom watched as she picked up his right hand in both of hers.  Her fingers worked carefully over the tendons of his fingers and thumb, easing the strain that came from handling forceps and signing endless reports.  One fingertip caressed his pulse, and she lifted the palm to her mouth for what he thought would be another kiss. 

 

But instead her tongue traced the lines in his palm, making him suck in another breath.  “Sara...” 

 

Her eyes crinkled with humor, but she said nothing, just following the lines of his veins beneath the thin skin of his wrist.  The heat of her mouth followed by the coolness of evaporation made every muscle tighten as she reached his elbow and spread out his arm, and he twitched as she continued the wet caress up the underside of his upper arm. 

 

Grissom’s head spun.  His vague assumptions of reciprocity had never included such a sensual intensity, never aspired to the sight of a teasing, irresistible goddess bent on pleasuring him.  His libido was urging him to move, to roll her beneath him and finish things with satisfying speed, but his conscious mind held him back.  It’s her turn, he told himself, feeling his pulse speeding up as Sara moved to his other hand and eased open the fist he’d clenched in restraint.  You can’t break her trust. 

 

Besides...it felt so incredible.  Grissom closed his eyes as Sara treated his left arm to the same sweet torture, his legs tensing and the ache in his groin redoubling.  He kept them shut as she kissed his throat from ear to ear, and he could feel her smile against his skin. 

 

Her hands found their way to his chest, tracing the muscles and the curves of his ribs, circling his nipples tauntingly.  Grissom deliberately flattened his own hands against the mattress, concentrating on keeping his impulses under control, and then nearly lost it anyway when Sara pressed her lips to the center of his chest. 

 

There was no soothing now.  She teased him without shame, her tongue tickling over his nipples, running down his breastbone, dipping into his bellybutton while her thumbs stroked his hips.  Grissom bit back an oath.  “Sara--” 

 

She hummed at him, a pleased, almost distracted sound, and his eyes snapped open as she blew a long breath over his straining erection.  The exclamation that made it past his teeth wasn’t very clear, but she seemed to get the gist of it as her hands cupped him gently. 

 

She knew his body too well.  That was all he could think as Sara caressed him, her light grip making him shift, her velvety touch on his balls an exquisite torment.  His breathing was harsh in his ears; he could smell his own arousal and hers, mixed with the warm vanilla.  As Sara bent her head, Grissom reached up and back, taking hold of the bars of the headboard and tightening his grip. 

 

She didn’t take him into her mouth right away; first she nibbled her way down his shaft, a trick she’d used before and one that never failed to make him incoherent.  Then her tongue stroked back up, and her lips teased the head before slowly parting to engulf him. 

 

Grissom’s eyes squeezed shut again, and his knuckles whitened around the bars.  Her weight leaning on his thighs kept him from thrusting too hard, but he couldn’t help the jerk in his hips as she suckled gently, destroying his coherent thought entirely. 

 

He never knew, afterwards, how long she spun him out.  The pleasure was excruciating and eternal; every time he neared release Sara would ease up, letting him calm a little before starting anew.  If he had been able to speak, he would probably have begged her, but he was beyond forming words.  On some level he was aware that he was groaning repeatedly, the bars creaking a little in his grip and his heels sliding in a search for purchase, but his focus was entirely on what Sara was doing to him. 

 

But at last she didn’t slow, didn’t slacken the pressure; instead, she increased it, humming happily.  The vibration was too much, and a shout escaped Grissom’s throat as spasm after spasm of ecstasy tore through him, setting off fireworks behind his closed lids and finally dropping him into a dazed limpness. 

 

Sara released him, stroking his thigh soothingly as she sat up.  “Definitely yummy,” she said throatily. 

 

Panting, he opened his eyes, just in time to see her hand slide inside her panties and to hear her sigh of delight.  Too drained to speak, he let his lids close again, and smiled as he heard her shivering, satisfied moan. 

 

He was still drifting in that tingling netherworld of ebbing pleasure when he felt the warm touch of a wet cloth on his stomach.  Sara cleaned him gently, wiping away the sweat and fluids with a loving touch, and when she was done he forced his muscles into compliance and caught her hand. 

 

It took two tries to get his voice going, but finally he managed it.  “That was...
incredible.” 

 

“Yeah, it was.”  Sara acquiesced to his pull and lay down next to him, her arms sliding around him as Grissom let his head settle into place on her shoulder.  A kiss landed in the vicinity of his temple.  “Thank you for letting me do that.” 

 

A snort of amusement was about all Grissom had energy for.  “I think I got the better end of the bargain.”  His fantasy fulfilled, and the unexpected blowjob of a lifetime...it was hard to imagine how things could improve. 

 

Sara hooked a foot under the folded sheet and pulled it up and over them, letting him take her hand again and settle their interwoven fingers against his heart.  Her voice was rich with satisfaction.  “Don’t bet on it.” 

 

On sleepy reflection, Grissom decided he wouldn’t. 

 

End.