Massage

BY : Cincoflex
Category: Stargate: SG-1 > General
Dragon prints: 1262
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: SG1, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

MASSAGE

Rose groaned. She rubbed the small of her back with one hand and looked at the pile of compost neatly heaped at the end of the walkway.

Damn Jack and his silver tongue.

It’s not much, I’d do it myself if I was here, he’d wheedled. Promising rich rewards, he’d left with Hammond for a NATO conference and would be back tonight, undoubtedly expecting a manicured garden: weeded, seeded and raked.

She grinned to herself. Jack might not have been good at gardening per se, especially the decorative touches, but the tools had been there, and the job itself HAD been good therapy for her. She wished she could talk him into a koi pond, but maybe later—

Right now, the charley horse at the base of her spine was going to take some serious soaking. Wearily, Rose brushed her red bangs out of her eyes and limped into O’Neill’s house.

Rose groaned again. She left her filthy jeans and sweatshirt sitting on the washing machine and climbed upstairs to the bathroom, running the hot water. Gingerly, Rose washed her hair in the sink, wrapped it in a towel and climbed into the tub.

As she settled in, the phone rang. Muttering a dark oath, she stalked into the bedroom and picked it up.

“O’Neill residence,”

“Boy you sound ticked off,” came Jack’s amused voice. Rose snorted.

“O’Neill, I hate you. I spent five hours on your damned yard, I have blisters, a sunburn and my back is so sore I can barely stand up.”

“And your point is--?” he teased. She growled.

“My point is that this is the LAST time I let you talk me into this! You’re the homeowner, pal—and anyway, yard work is a man’s job.”

“That’s sexist, babe. Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you expect me to start cooking—and we know how THAT usually ends up.” He hooted. Rose smiled to herself.

“Oh yeah—how many microwaves has it been?”

“Three, not counting the one in the SG lounge,” he admitted in annoyance. “Look, I didn’t call to dwell on my inadequacies as a chef, okay? I just wanted to let you know today’s trash day, so the cans need to be rolled to the curb. And I’ll be home in about two hours.”

Rose sighed happily.

“Good. You owe me, Jonathon Michael David O’Neill, and I’m starting the meter RIGHT now. Bring pizza.”

“Oooooo I love it when you talk tough—are you naked?”

“Actually yes. I was in the tub. Where do you keep your muscle rub?”

“I’m talking to her—“

“Jack--!”

“Under the sink. But I’ll tell you what, Toots. I’ll give you a good rubdown when I get home.”

“Promise?” she didn’t mean to let a begging note slip into her voice, but it was there. She could hear the smile in his.

“Promise.”


*** *** ***

“Oh yeah . . .” appreciatively, Jack O’Neill dropped his bags and studied the figure on the bed. Rose turned her head, and he gulped.

Rose in dark sunglasses lay on her stomach, a towel draped across her round bottom. She chuckled at the sight of him standing there, slightly stunned.

“Speechless Jack? There’s a first—“ she murmured. He came forward and squatted by the edge of the bed.

“What’s with the shades? Trying to tell me something?”

“Just keeping you toeing the line, O’Neill—“ she warned him. Jack leaned forward to kiss her nose and plucked the shades off, setting them on the nightstand.

“You look too sore to make a decent dominatrix, babe—maybe tomorrow. Right now, let’s see how bad off you are.” So saying, he lightly ran a big hand down her bare back, gently gauging her pain. Rose flinched as he pressed along the tight muscles along her spine. He shook his head with concern.

“Big knots—What was this from, the lifting?”

“Yeah,” she tried not to let her voice rise up, but it did, and Jack took his hand off her skin, sighing.

“Poor kid—hang on, let me grab something and get comfortable—

She watched him disappear into the bathroom to reemerge moments later, stripped down to his pajama bottoms. He carried a small bottle she didn’t recognize.

“Something I learned about years ago. Just try and relax, Rose—“ he scooted up on his knees, straddling her thighs, facing her feet.

”What are you doing?” Rose giggled. The weight of Jack across her ass felt rather good, and she gave a little groan when he bent her left leg back, rubbing the calf in his big warm hands.

“We start with the extremities. Feet and toes. Hope you’re not too ticklish—“

“Shit!” she blurted with a giggle as he ran strong fingers across the ball of her foot. He chided her.

“Ah ah, watch that language, babe. Now where were we?” Briskly he rubbed her feet, slipping fingers between each toe, stroking the ankle and top of the foot with firm pressure. She groaned happily, letting him repeat the actions on the right foot.

“Geez you have small feet. Are you sure you’re fully grown?” Jack commented, kissing her instep. She squirmed under him, aware of a growing erection pressing there.

“I’m as big as I intend to get, flyboy. And don’t stop, it’s heavenly.”

“Pushy broad. Okay, onto the legs—“ he cheerfully replied. This time Rose heard the bottle open.

“What’s that stuff?”

“Topical aphrodisiac. This stuff’s guaranteed to crank up your ya-yas until you’re begging me to do you—“ Jack replied in a completely serious voice. Rose snorted into her pillow.

“Riiiiight. You are SO full of it, Jack O’Neill— “Tr “Trust me, you’re the one who’s gonna be full of Jack O’Neill,” he muttered back in a low seductive voice. Rose laughed again, but the warm touch of his hands up and down her thighs made the giggles fade into a moan. Deftly, firmly, he rubbed the long muscles with even pressure, never too hard, never too slowly. Rose felt her skin tingle slightly. After a while, she tried to raise her head and look at him.

“Oh man that’s heavenly—so what IS that stuff, really?”

“Something a bunch of grateful alien chicks gave me for sexing them down all night—“

“Jesus, Jack, no wonder your eyes are brown—“

“They meant nothing to me, even after hours of intense nookie—“

“Oh God, do I have to listen to this?” she grinned. Jack rolled his eyes.

“Are you or are you NOT putty in my hands are the moment?”

Rose said nothing. Jack waggled his eyebrows and moved to straddle her thighs, this time facing her back and shoulders.

“I rest my case—“ he replied. “So—getting hot for me, aren’tcha?”

“Oh shut up and get rubbing.”

“Yes ladies and gentlemen, she loves me,” he announced to the room at large, even as he dribbled the bottle on her lower back. Rose shivered until his hands began to stroke the base of her spine in slow circles.

“Ahhhhhhh---yes, right there, oooooooohhhhh—“ she moaned happily. Jack sighed.

“I should be recording you, babe—Geez, if I’d known a rubdown would make you yodel like this I’d have done it MONTHS ago—“

Rose made no reply; the combination of heat, hands and heft was slowly ironing out the knots in her lower back. Jack took his time, giving loving attention to every kink and ache, his strong fingers working loose the tension. Rose gave a grateful sigh, dimly aware that his hands were now kneading her ass.

“Feeling better? “ came his slightly husky voice. She nodded, eyes still closed.

“Mmmmmmmmm. Listen, go ahead and quit your day job, okay? I have a full-time gig for you—“

“Does it involve the exchange of bodily fluids?”

“With you, everything eventually does.” Rose pointed out. Jack leaned down to her ear, and the warm weight of him pressing on her was enough to make her hard nipples scrape the sheets.

“You know, there are some muscle groups I can’t quite reach in this position,” he purred, reaching under her. Rose let him roll her over, but kept one hand protectively over the fur between her thighs.

“Still think this alien goop is gonna make me hot to trot?”

“Babe, I can see the evidence—“ he grinned, leaning down to suck gently on a firm nipple. Rose arched up a little, biting her lip.

“Circumstantial. And my ribs hurt too—“

Jack slid his hands up her ribcage, rubbing the heels of his hands firmly, nudging her arm to the side while he straddled her. The ridge along the front of his pajamas was seriously amusing Rose; she looked down at it.

“Maybe the alien goop is working on YOU.”

“Please let me concentrate on my job—“ he reprimanded her as his hands cupped her breasts. Rose reached down to his hips, tugging the flannel down. She giggled.

“I think the stiffness just got transferred from one body to another!”

“Ya think?”

She laughed again, this time letting her hands slide up the hot length of him. Jack groaned.

“Whoa, okay that feels pretty damned good—“

“Who told you to stop, flyboy?” Rose smiled up at him. His hands were still circling her breasts, fingers tweaking the nipples every few moments. He shook his head, eyes dark and hot.

“God you have a great rack,” he admitted, and she felt him throb in her hands. With a gentle squeeze, she caressed his cock and Jack let his fingers drift up from her chest as he gave a moan.

“Unless you want me throwin’ my bat in the upper deck, babe, we better shift—“ he warned her with a twinkle in his eye. Rose reluctantly released him, and Jack dropped down on her left side, his right hand toying with her flat navel.

“I sense the formula is working—“

“Funny, I sense a seriously horny bastard in bed with me,” Rose rolled her head to look at him. Jack leaned forward and kissed her, his cock sliding up against her satiny hip.

“Oh damn you taste good, and smell good and feel good . . .” Jack admitted with another groan. “And even though you’ve got a terrific brain, Rose, I swear to God your body was just meant for me to fuck.”

She kissed him again, lingeringly this time and rolled to face him, sliding her right leg up his side to his hip. Eagerly Jack cupped her ass, pulling her closer. Rose kept her fingers wrapped around the heated length of him, caressing.

“Well, you brought the animal part back to life, Frankenstein—didn’t realize there would be an eight year appetite to make up for, huh?” she told him throatily. He nibbled her chin, sliding a big hand down against the soft fur between her thighs, sighing when his fingers came away wet.

“Eight years to my twelve makes us even, babe. I don’t think I’m gonna have a problem keeping up—“

“Jack—“ she growled, rubbing herself against his hand reflexively, “Honey, you were married and getting it every—“

“—Two weeks. If that.” No!”No!”

“Rose, once every fourteen days, and that was ONLY if I asked, okay? Sara was not interested in lovemaking at all. She did it for me, a duty to a husband.” Jack muttered, embarrassed. Rose licked his lips, guiding his hand back to the full curve of her breast.

“This isn’t a DUTY with you Jack, it’s—“ at a loss to describe it, Rose sighed. “It’s like a Disneyland pass for every E ticket ride ever made! I mean, I get to fuck Jack O’Neill—you don’t think I’d spray paint that across Cheyenne Mountain if I could?”

He gave a strangled laugh, kissing her again as his hand slid into the slick velvety folds between her thighs. Rose sucked his tongue, rocking against him, her hand on his cock.

“Oh babe, that’s a hell of an image!” he chortled. Rose laughed against his mouth. With infinite tenderness, she guided the head of his cock against her wetness and looked into his dark eyes locking gazes with him.

“I want it, flyboy. Right now, MINE—“

Helplessly Jack rocked forward, pushing into the tight heat, pleasure washing over his face. Rose gave a sobbing sigh and locked her thigh over his hip, pulling him in deeper as his wet fingers slid up the outside of her hip, gripping tightly.

“Aw fuck, Rose! God, baby—“ They kept staring into each other’s eyes as they thrust together. Rose moaned.

“Jack, you not only made me love again, you made me need it. NEED it, Jack. I need you in my bed, in my body—“ With a hard shudder, Rose spasmed, a long shudder wracking her frame. Jack watched her, his own tempo increasing.

Rose smiled. Wickedly, she took his wet hand and carefully licked his fingers as he watched.

“AHHHhhhhhhh” Jack thrust into her fiercely as wave after wave of intense pleasure jolted his lanky frame. Rose held onto him as he collapsed, sweaty and trembling. Lightly she kissed his brow, letting him slowly come back to his senses. Raising himself up on one elbow, her dropped his mouth onto her ear, his breath hot and sated.

“I need this too,” he confessed brokenly. “I didn’t know it, but yeah, it’s true. I have to have you, Rose. HAVE to. Like water or food or air. I couldn’t go back to—“

“—Being empty,” Rose nodded, her damp forehead pressed to his. “You won’t. I’m here, Jack. Where I have to be. Because--”

Rose--?” he caught her chin in his hand, forcing her gaze to meet his. She smiled in that moment and said it, for the first time.

Jack trembled.

End.

Hey, if you have a moment, a note of feedback would be sweet! Cincoflex@aol.com


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