On Top


Warning--the following story contains graphic sex of a nonconventional variety that may offend some readers. Please take note and read responsibly.

“Needs must, when the Devil rides.”
Old Proverb




We’re going to do it. That is—I’m going to do it. To him.

God.

And it’s so weird because out of all the things we’ve been through—and for the two of us that’s a lot of shit—this is one that neither one of us saw this coming.

At least, I didn’t.

*** *** ***


Grissom’s good in bed. He’s considerate, and patient. I had a lot of trouble relaxing at first, and didn’t actually come the first few times we made love. Too tense, too keyed up on the fact that I actually had him where I’d always wanted him I guess. He did all the things that were supposed to make me loosen up: we had a few drinks, and made out for a good long time. He rubbed my shoulders and made sure we weren’t going to be interrupted. Things like that.

Most of it worked after the first week, and the first time I managed to pop was when we were fooling around on the sofa at his place. He was under me, and I was rubbing against him and wham! Sweet and hard. We tried again later, in bed and while that was pretty good too, it didn’t do the trick.

Sort of driving me crazy, but I’m lucky enough to be in love with a pretty smart guy, and he figured it out before I did. Some part of his mind is divorced enough from his ego to be able to analyze things that other people can’t. It’s probably why he hasn’t gone crazy on the job.

Anyway, he spells it out for me one night while we were at my place, having dinner.

“You climax when you’re on top. Physically and mentally, Sara.”

“Physically, I can see that, yeah. But um, mentally?” I could feel myself tensing up. Grissom nods at me, just looking at me with that straight gaze of his—the intense one.

“Mentally. When you’re the aggressor, sweetheart. When you’re in charge.”

Whoah. I feel a little panic at that accusation, because if there’s anything I’m not into, it’s mind games in bed. Not my style and I open my mouth to spell that out loud and clear, but Grissom just shakes his head.

“—It’s not kinky, it’s just interesting. You’ve never liked being controlled or manipulated, so it’s only natural that sex is influenced by that.”

“I’m not being manipulated into sex with you,” I protest. And it’s true—this is a mutual thing we have going here, but Grissom gives me that soft-eyed look and I blush a little because I know he’s remembering a few aggressive things I’ve done in the course of so many years of working together.

Like pulling guns on suspects and shit.

“No, you’re not. And I’m not going to go Freudian on you about any childhood influences on your personality, or backlash to trauma or anything else you yourself probably already know, Sara. What I am going to say is that . . . I’m okay with it.”

“You’re okay with it,” I parrot, wondering what the hell that means. Grissom sighs and takes me in his arms. I love the warm security of that. He strokes my back a little as he talks.

“What I’m saying is that I love you, and that I’m perfectly willing to be the receptive partner in sex. It’s not unheard of for men to do that, Sara, and in this case, it might be what we need, for parity.”

I laugh even as feel a throb between my thighs. I can’t believe the idea because it’s so . . . hot. And weird. I mean, Grissom . . . you know, just—

Anyway, we sleep on it.

A few days later, I find a listing for a website I’ve used once or twice for um, toys of a personal nature. Yeah, they have the equipment, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that some of it was interesting. Put in this new context though takes some getting used to, and I’m just about to click out when I see a video listed that sort of says it all in the title.

I print it out and leave it for Grissom in the bedroom because I’m not sure I can hand it to him in person.

And when he comes over after work he kisses me and suddenly it’s okay. I love his expression, and tug him into the bedroom and straddle him and damn if I don’t end up making us both feel pretty good, even as I realize that yeah, he’s on the bottom.

A few days later, we order a few things.

*** *** ***


"It didn't look this BIG in the catalog--" he mumbles. I smirk a little. The dildo is gorgeous, actually, a clear polyurethane tinted blue with gold and silver sparkles embedded in it. At six inches long and two in diameter, it's actually fairly modest compared to others we saw, but Grissom has a right to be fussy. I kiss his temple.

"Be nice to my dick, okay? It's nowhere near as impressive as yours--" I tease. That makes him laugh out loud, and he shoots me a soft look of love. I nod my chin to the bag and he reaches in it again, this time pulling out the black velvet harness with a trembling sigh.

"Ohhhh, you are going to look SO--" he tells me in a low, embarrassed voice. That makes me shiver so I take the harness and stroke it, then set it aside, along with the dildo.

“Grissom,” I ask him formally, my lips along the warm shell of his ear. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing in little hitches. “Let me make love to you tonight, please.---“

“Ohhhh—“ he exhales, rolling to face me, scooping me into his arms. I forget how strong he is, and for a while we’re entwined, kissing and stroking. Gradually though, I manage to shift him onto his stomach and work my way down his bare spine with nips and kisses. He’s tense, but I take my time, using a corner of the flannel coverlet to tickle him and he relaxes again as I stroke his ass.

It’s a glorious ass, really. I always like it in jeans and DEFINITELY like it OUT of jeans. Muscled, nicely defined, and now, bare. I’ve spanked and kissed and bitten Grissom’s ass, toyed with the light fur on it, and now, I’m going to pleasure it.

The things I do for love!

He groans when I kiss his rump. It’s warm under my lips, the soft barely there fur tickling me. I laugh softly.

“You like?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Good. I’m going to make you feel SO nice, babe—“

And I kiss him again, this time running my tongue down the cleft, making him gasp loudly. This is SO out of his realm that I know he’s both shocked and excited. I take advantage and push his thighs apart further for some quality licking time on them, adding a little nip now and then. He’s restless now, squirming. I reach for a pillow and put it under his hips, lifting them, giving him something to grind his cock on and I can’t help but notice it’s not only huge, it’s dripping.

Yes, I think Grissom is liking this a LOT.

Me too.

Shifting around, I settle myself between his legs and start licking seriously along his balls, working my way back. Each tongue stroke is making him flex his toes, and a low moan is music to my ears. By the time I actually manage to kiss that rosebud of a pucker Grissom’s got his face in the pillows to smother his cries. The man just can’t deny the drives of his big aroused body, and right now he’s begging me not to stop.

Such a lovely power trip, and I have to admit I’m pretty turned on myself. Not because I’m rimming my boss and lover per se, but because he’s so helpless to the pleasure I’m giving him. Grissom is just now realizing he can in fact be a slut. That he LIKES being a slut.

“Gahhhhhh!”

I’m not sure what that means but I think it’s pillow talk for ‘You’re driving my cock INSANE.’ I up the ante by thrusting the point of my tongue where no Man Has Gone Before, and that’s ALL She Wrote. Grissom is howling happily, rubbing himself against the flannel coverlet and on the point of coming like a broken dam. I give a gentle but firm tug on his heavy balls, stopping him and he sucks in a breath.

“I—I don’t know if I can DO this!” he gasps over his shoulder. I nibble his cheeks alternately until he calms down a little.

“Yes you can. Take a breath—watch me get dressed for it—“ I taunt him gently. Grissom keeps looking over his shoulder as I reach for the harness. Slowly, I pick up the dildo and gently pull it through the front ring, then begin to strap the harness onto my hips, the black velvet looking kinda nice against my bare skin. I reach for the bag and pull out the last item, the one he missed.

It’s a gel pack, soft and smooth, to fit between me and the dildo, resting against my clitoris. Every stroke in him is a stroke on me. Grissom’s eyes go big, and he sighs, looking at me in my finery, I stroke the length jutting out in front of me and smile at him.

“Like it?”

“Uhhhhh—“ he replies, grinding himself into the flannel again. I reach for the liquid Silk and pour a generous amount on my fingers, then go back to Ground Zero, circling and playing. Grissom sighs. One finger in, no problem, I stroke lightly and he sighs.

“Ohh God Sara that feels nice—“

Two fingers, then three a while later. My free hand is reaching around him, sliding along the length of his searing cock, never letting him get too close. He’s rolling his head, his eyes closed, bare back tensing as I work my fingers in and out of him, crooning softly.

“Ready for me?”

“—Yeah. I think so—“ he gasps. I settle in on top of him biting his neck as I gently guide the heavily lubed and tapered tip of the blue sparkle dildo in. Grissom stiffens and I pause. Not going any further. He groans a little.

“God does it hurt? If it hurts we can stop RIGHT now--" I urge him, starting to pull back. He shakes his head, and thrusts back against me. Ooooohh—that felt good! The gel pad rubs JUST right and I give a little quiver. Grissom laughs.

“Yeah, good. A little bit more—“ he urges in a low choked voice. I push again, slowly and something gives. Grissom groans; my dildo slides in easily in one deep stroke and I can’t believe it.

“Ohhhhh—“ we BOTH are moaning now. I LOVE this sense of power, and the gel pad is rubbing me OOO so nicely. Grissom is writhing under me, damp with sweat, his big body shuddering.

“Yessss, God please, Sara, fuck me—“ he begs in a voice I’ve never heard before, a wild sort of needy sound, and my hips rock forward. I know I did something right when he shudders and demands harshly,

“GOD! YESSMORE!!”

Ah, found his prostate! With careful stroking, I let the dildo glide over it again and again, and Grissom goes ballistic, arching his spine, urging me on, his big shoulders shuddering when I grab his hips and pump. He’s gripping the mattress, letting each thrust of our bodies rub him against it, and in one glorious moment he comes HARD, his ass clenching around the dildo, his hot semen gushing furiously all over the flannel under him.

“OHHH YEAHYEAHYEAHFUCKME—“ Grissom howls and it’s enough to send me right over the edge. I come too, shuddering against his ass, trembling with love and awe at his trust, his sweet lust.

Ohhh damn it’s hot. Incendiary.

I. Fucked. Grissom.

He’s out of it, and I very carefully slide out of him, reaching for the Kleenex, wiping carefully, checking for blood. There IS some, and I quietly freak for a moment, cursing myself for getting carried away. I yank the harness off and prepare to toss it aside when a big paw grabs me—Grissom yanks me down to him and kisses me, smearing my stomach with the sticky cooling essence of his love as he laughs.

“OhhhSaraaaaaa---“

“Griss—“

“Shhhhh—little sore, but it’s worth every twinge, trust me,” he sighs, brushing my bangs back from my forehead and smiling dreamily. I draw in a breath and look into his eyes. His pupils are so dilated they almost lose the blue, and he looks . . . younger.

“So it was good for you?” God, I sound like some insecure . . . guy. But Grissom understands. He reaches over to stroke my face.

“Considering I was screaming down the walls I think we can chalk it up in the positives, yes,” he grins broadly. I smirk a little at that, and glance down at the flannel coverlet.

“We’ll take it to the drycleaners—again,“ he murmurs sleepily. I lay down next to him, smirking a little.

So yeah, I like it on top.


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