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One's own Pleasure	By : CatharinaElizabeth Category: CSI > General Views: 3150 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One's own Pleasure
- 1
Title: One�s
own Pleasure.

Disclaimer: I
don�t even own a Fortune 500 company stock, how could one therefore mistake me
as the rightful owner of CSI, CBS or any of its affiliates?

Author�s Note: This
might be slightly different than the �usual� NC-17 story out there. As this is
my first try in this particular genre, reviews and opinions are more than
welcomed. Please note that this has a tiny, tiny smidge of a Grissom/Sara
pairing, although blink, and you miss it.

***********

Her hand
slowly slid down her neck, caressing her collarbone with a feather light touch,
then gliding to her right breast. Sliding her palm over it with a hint of
force, she couldn�t suppress a moan. It had been way too long since someone had
touched her like this, slowly unravelling her nakedness. And she wasn�t in the
mood for a quick pick-up in a bar somewhere, with a one night stand as result.
Besides, she knew her body best. She didn�t need a man to pleasure her.

Turning on
her cd-player, a soft, entrancing rhythm entered the
room, enveloping her, blocking out all outside noises. The bedroom was warm,
the central heating creating an agreeable temperature. Slowly her second hand
slid up her stomach, underneath the silk-blue bathrobe, which was more of the
decorative type than useful, up to her other breast. Slowly caressing them,
Sara arched forward, pressing them closer, increasing the pressure. Tweaking one of her nipples, her other hand slid back up her chest,
up the side of her face, only to tangle in her hair. A stretch of her lithe body and the hand
travelled to her lips, softly tracing them before sneaking out her tongue to
wet them thoroughly, twirling around them sensually. As her mouth softly
suckled her digits, they encountered a different type of moisture than her
other hand, which had undone the robe�s belts and slid through her slick folds.
Slowly tangling in the only slightly courser hair, she twisted her wrist,
dragging her short nails through it and up to her belly button. Sliding her
palm back down, her hips bucked up, and her fingers easily slid down again,
parting her lower lips.

Realising
her breasts were slightly neglected, both hands met, eagerly kneading the soft
tissue, interlocking and withdrawing again, creating a sense of urgency down in
the pit of her stomach. Her nipples stiffened further, and she drew her legs
together, hoping to squelch, satisfy, the insistent throbbing. Her thighs rubbed against each other faintly,
creating an extra stimulant that felt oh so good, wanted. With one knee bent,
the other flat on the mattress, one of the hands worked its way into the little
space between them, slowly feelings its way around for that hot and wanting
centre, the bundle of nerves that was driving her slowly insane.

As her legs
parted again, creating space for her probing digits, Sara�s thoughts wandered
to other pleasurable arenas. Imagining that one certain person
she wanted here, doing this to her. Kissing her harshly, his mouth
finding every ticklish spot, licking the sweaty pearls of her breasts and neck
as his beard teasingly prickled her. Slick, and sweaty, saturated with lust. As
her fingers slipped once more through her labia and then into her, she arched
up from the bed, a strangled groan escaping her lips.
Sliding slowly back out, dancing around her lips, rubbing her clit almost
frantically before venturing in again with more force this time, she set up a
rhythm that slowly but inexplicably brought her closer to climax.

Harsh gasps
mixed in with a few explicative muttered words filled the room, and her body
tensed in pulses, driving itself into oblivion. Moving towards a sitting
position, one of her hands gripped the headboard, steadying, bracing herself. Some of her heavy exhalations flowed towards her
sweaty chest and cooled it slightly, causing more goose bumps to rise upon her
breasts. A few more long, deep strokes hitting that elusive
inner spot, and she comes, hard. She didn�t scream,
that�s not her. Not quite a whisper either, it�s too intense for that. A
guttural moan escapes her, the name of her long time mentor, and supervisor
groaned out on a gasp, and her fingers slowly slide
out, and then back up, rubbing her clit once, twice, before moving again, this
time to her mouth. She cleans her fingers, enjoying her taste, not wondering if
that would be considered �normal�. She was never completely normal, and she
doesn�t care.

Mussing up
her hair a bit after having wiped her fingers, and the rest of her sweaty, wet
body, on the towel she had brought with her earlier, she snuggles up under the
covers, content to sleep. An exhaustive, deep sleep.
- 1
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One's own Pleasure