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Tag to Second Choices	By : DestinyBrighthope Category: Stargate: SG-1 > Stargate Atlantis Views: 1766 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Des does not own Stargate: Atlantis, and is making no profit off this story.

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Little ol' Des owns little to nothin'.
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koinekid's
"Second Choices"
(posted on FanFiction.Net)
by
Destiny Brighthope
A hunger that refused denial seized her belly. Her eyes drifted to the blanket, to his swollen lips, and back again. A wicked thought formed.
Pushing to her feet, she slinked over to the jumper hatch. The sound of her high-heeled boots clicking off the deck plating made her feel terribly sexy. Glancing over her shoulder, she awarded Rodney with her sultriest look.
He eyed her suspiciously. "What are you up to?"
"Spread the blanket, Rodney. And if you have any of those rose petals left…"
While he scrambled to obey, she closed the hatch. For the next half hour, safe and secure from worry, distraction, and prying eyes, Jennifer Keller showed her fiancé just how eager she was to receive her new last name.

Restraint was not in Jennifer's vocabulary as she fumbled with the buttons on Rodney's tuxedo shirt. The bow tie she left untouched. The way her hands were shaking, she might accidentally choke him.
She had tried to be gentle, folding his jacket and laying it on one of the benches before impatience got the better of her.
Would it be so bad if I ripped his shirt open? Surely, he brought a change of clothing. It was difficult to imagine Rodney McKay setting up pedestals and flower bouquets while decked out in formal wear. Fun—that's how she would imagine it in her fantasies—but difficult.
Before she could make good on her contemplated threat, Rodney came to her rescue. Together, they made short work of his shirt and tie. The pants at least she could manage on her own.
Leaving her to it, he reached around to unzip her. As she pulled her arms through the sleeves, he gathered up her skirt until the entire dress bunched at her waist. His hand swiped the front of her panties, cupping her sex and sending a jolt to her core.
His warm touch banished the chill she felt when the dress fell away. The jumper's environmental system normally compensated for changes in body temperature. She heard the AC kick into overdrive and wished it luck keeping up. Rodney's touch would turn any woman into a sweaty, panting wreck. Maybe he'd get her so hot the system would blow a relay. Then he'd leave the repair to Radek.
She laughed aloud at the thought, and Rodney quirked an eyebrow. Grinning, she made as if to kiss him then pulled away at the last second, teasing a growl of frustration out of him. When he leaned in to claim his kiss, she wriggled out of his arms and retreated to the far side of the compartment.
Kicking out of his pants and shoes, he started to follow. She wagged a finger, and he halted.
Shimmying the dress down her hips, she stepped out of it. Folding it, she laid it on the bench. It was her finest dress, after all, and the one she was wearing when Rodney proposed. It would hold a place of honor in her closet long after retiring from her wardrobe.
So would the boots. Insanely expensive, with a heel that made walking at best a chore and at worst a hazard, they were the same ones she purchased for her first date with—giggle—her future husband. She reached for the zip.
"No." His voice was low.
"Leave them on?"
Eyes glued to her legs, he nodded.
"Okay." Jennifer clicked over to him in her black lingerie, a high-heeled sex goddess appearing to her avid worshiper, a ravenous wolf stalking her helpless prey. She sank to her knees and feasted.
He tasted clean, fresh, masculine.
Almost immediately, he erupted. He tried to maneuver her away, but she held firm. The universe was no bigger than the confines of the jumper. Here, she was no doctor, he no astrophysicist. They were woman and man and her job, her role, her function in life, nothing more than to please him. How could she give any less than her all?
Licking her lips, she stood. Her hands ran from his thighs up his stomach and broad chest until she faced him at her full, heel-augmented height. He began apologizing profusely. How odd it seemed to apologize for such a thing. What greater compliment could a supplicant pay his goddess than to be overwhelmed at her presence?
She silenced the foolish man with a kiss and reached down to grasp him again. When their lips parted, they watched the ring on her finger slide up and down his manhood, the overhead light glinting off the frankly impressive diamond.
Not to be outdone, he went to work, rubbing and squeezing her rear through her panties. The sensations were delicious, and Jennifer gave herself over to them, widening her stance to grant him better access. Her reward came swiftly.
Satin panties were a lethal weapon under Rodney's skillful manipulation. Stretched across his fingertips, the soft material grazed, teased, then probed her moist sex. Her body went rigid, and a grunt of surprised satisfaction escaped her lips.
Quickly, he pushed the fabric aside and plunged two fingers inside in time for her to convulse around them. She shivered and moaned and clung to him, having to abandon stroking him to remain upright.
An arrogant smirk spread across his face as he extracted his fingers. "Looks like I'm not the only one with an early release."
"It's one of those days," she acknowledged, blushing. Without clitoral stimulation the orgasm wasn't as intense as it might have been. But it was still an unexpected delight, and she couldn't wait for another. "Think we have one more in us?"
"At least." He slid his hand past her waistband and settled his middle finger on her sweet spot, the cleft between her cheeks.
She purred like a kitten and barely noticed when he leaned in and whispered, "Now, what are we going to do about these panties?"
"Leave them on?" she asked innocently.
He grinned. "What do you think?"

Jennifer detested thongs and wore them only after dates, when chances were they'd be ripped off before they could bother her. For everyday wear bikini briefs were the way to go. They were stylish, sexy, and didn't ride up. But thongs had a singular advantage she couldn't deny. They were easier to remove over heels.
Her struggles amused her husband-to-be. On any other day she'd be annoyed. Today she simply braced herself against his shoulder and tried not to fall. His steadying hand around her waist promised she wouldn't.
Having vanquished the panties and held them aloft in triumph, all that remained were her boots and bra. Rodney already made his desire known regarding the former. Jennifer suspected the boots would be making regular appearances in their bedroom from now on. That alone made them the best investment she ever made. With the possible exception of medical school.
As for the bra, Rodney took matters into his own hands, popping the front clasp and letting the lacy garment drop to the deck. Her eyes locked onto his as her smallish breasts spilled into view. She loved watching for the spark of raw, carnal desire that her unveiled chest ignited in his eyes. The look was always the same and always turned her legs to jelly.
No, not this time. She saw something else, and it troubled her until she figured it out.
Mine, his gaze said. All mine. Forever.
"Yes," she agreed.
He looked at her, puzzled.
She blushed and covered with, "To whatever you have in mind."
A sly smile turned the corners of his mouth. "I'll remind you later that you said that."
"Why? What's happening later?"
"You'll see," he said with enough mystery in his tone that she simply had to know.
"Tell me. Now, McKay."
"Patience, Keller." He nuzzled her throat.
"You're trying to distract me."
He paused long enough to ask, "Is it working?"
She sighed in defeat. "Yep."

Minutes later distraction had become an intolerable delay.
Jennifer squirmed atop the blanket as Rodney leisurely lapped at her. His tongue, normally an unparalleled delight, served only to remind her that they weren't yet joined.
His hand plowed through her neatly trimmed curls, thumb questing for the hard nub at the apex of her slit. Hoping to urge him on, she reached behind her knees to open herself to him more fully. In response he forced his tongue deeper and hit just the right spot.
The muscles in her stomach clenched, her hips rocked toward him. She screamed, begging then commanding him to take her, take her now.
Before she knew it, he was atop her, his hard length nudging her folds, thumb still thrumming her clitoris. She released her knees, and the movement drew his tip inside. They both groaned. He jerked his hips, feeding her another half inch. She needed more, damn it.
He delivered, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting until she was fully impaled.
The suddenness of it all drove the air from her lungs and banished every thought but one: I'm complete.
Her inner feminist rebelled at the notion, the woman in love rejoiced.
Rodney rose to support himself on both arms and hammered into her. Though it felt wonderful, his new position had taken his thumb away from her swollen clit. Jennifer needed that sensation.
She surprised them both by reaching down to touch herself. She'd never done that before, never trusted anyone enough to masturbate in front of them, let alone while making love. Oh well, in for a penny. Her other hand cupped her breast, tweaked a nipple.
Rodney was loving it. His hips moved faster and faster, pummeling her tender sex. She couldn't take much more. Nor could he by the way his face was screwed up in concentration. Looks like they were going to finish before swapping positions.
Fine by her. She normally preferred to finish on top, but if the orgasm nearing crescendo was half as big as seemed likely, it would more than make up for a lack of variety. Besides, they could always continue tonight. And every night, she realized. For the rest of our lives.
That did it. It was starting. She crossed her ankles behind his back, desperate to draw him in, to feel his entire length on every stroke. His thrusting grew urgent, his breathing shallowed, and with a last, great push, Rodney emptied his seed deep inside.
Jennifer whispered, "Oh my," as the universe exploded around her.

Heaving a sigh of contentment, Jennifer pressed the empty champagne flute to her forehead. She considered indulging in another glass, but good sense prevailed. Engaged or no, she had work in the morning.
Shifting position, she felt a dull throb between her legs and mumbled, "I will be sore tomorrow."
Rodney emerged from the cockpit, trying not to grin. "Sorry about that."
"No, you will not apologize for the hottest sex of my life."
Abandoning all pretense, he beamed. So did she.
Dressed in fresh boxers and a dark tee shirt, he plopped onto the bench across from her. Jennifer supposed it was time to start gathering her clothes as well. She remained blissfully, gloriously naked atop the blanket, having finally removed her sweaty boots. A groan slipped out as she leaned over to reach for her panties.
"Do you think you're able to walk?" Rodney asked.
Jennifer wanted to swat him for that, but he looked genuinely concerned. She held out a hand. He stood, helped her to her feet, and gently kissed her lips.
"There's somewhere I want us to go, but only if you're up to it."
"I can make it back to your room." She'd already decided they were moving in together but couldn't remember whether she'd told him yet. "Provided we use the transporter instead of the stairs."
"Actually, I had another destination in mind." He nodded toward the cockpit door. "Would you take a trip with me?"
"Now?" She had wondered why Rodney proposed in a jumper. "For how long?"
"A couple of days." Before she could protest, he added, "I've already cleared it with Mister Woolsey, and your staff has agreed to cover your shifts."
"I don't have anything to wear."
Rodney looked at her as if she were a five-year-old. Reminding herself that she loved the man dearly in spite of his arrogance, she silently marched into the cockpit.
Hanging there were numerous outfits to choose from—everything from jeans and a sweatshirt to a couple of dresses she brought back from Earth. After they became a couple, she'd felt the urge to dress more feminine while off duty. Behind the dresses hung an off world uniform and—the final outfit that had her blinking in surprise. Rodney must have selected it by mistake.
"Teyla gave me this outfit." Jennifer rubbed the cloth between her fingers. "I wore it to her and Kanan's joining ceremony last year."
"I know," Rodney said.
Jennifer turned at the sound of his voice to find her fiancé holding his own formal Athosian garb.
"Tell me, Jennifer." He closed the cockpit door. "How do you feel about long engagements?"

Continued in Second Choices Ch. 5 by koinekid
- 1
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