by B. Cavis
by B. Cavis
The best mistake Kate Todd ever made was thinking to herself one Wednesday afternoon-- "Oh, he's not that big and tough-- what's the harm in letting him tie my hands? It's not like he'll be able to do anything seriously ache-worthy to me?"
Big mistake. Big honking stupid mistake.
Of course, said mistake was inched along by the fact that the "he" in question had been fucking her with his fingers in a public movie theater, and doing a damn good job of it too. He'd insisted (or rather, begged while trying to make his voice sound like an order) that she wear a skirt, and with said skirt not wear panties. It has become one of his favorite past times to guess if she has underwear on or not.
And, because it's the nature of Gibbs, he is rarely disappointed.
But anyway, they had been sitting there watching some badly translated action movie, with his fingers up inside of her cunt and his thumb making lazy, unhurried circles over her clit, and he had leaned over and started to whisper in her ear.
"I am going to make you come in this seat, with a hundred people sitting around us."
And his fingers twitched inside her as her head fell forward and her mouth opened slackly.
"You're going to be begging me before we're done, begging and quiet and not able to say anything."
"Because if you do, they'll all know, babe. They'll all know that I was doing this to you while Jackie Chan got his ass whooped on screen, and that you can come undone anywhere if I make you."
His mouth had come closer, tickling the side of her neck; stubble and heat. She had turned her head to look him in the eyes, and the grin that she saw there had made her want to laugh.
He really was just a big kid when she got him like this, she thought-- touching everything and wanting nothing more than to brag to all the other kids about his new toy.
Oh, she had thought, that is a very niiccce image...
"You are good with your hands," she had agreed in a breathy voice, and he had chuckled low and dangerous.
"No," he responded, "you're just really simple for someone who knows you the way I do." He flicked her again, and she felt her entire body tense up. "I can play you without breaking a sweat, Katie, dear, and all you can do is sit there and take it."
And she'd fucking orgasmed, right there in front of everyone in the movie theater and her good Christian God Himself.
His fingers had retreated, giving her a few parting strokes, and she had let out a long shaky breath.
The satisfied smile hadn't left his mouth for two hours. She knows, because she looked.
When they got back to her apartment-- their locale of choice this week-- he had jumped on her response to him in the theater with all the zealousness she expects of a trained investigator.
"What was it exactly that made you boil?"
She'd smirked into her beer. "Well, I gotta tell you, the fingers between my legs didn't hurt." The self-satisfaction glowed briefly in his eyes, but then he'd shaken it off.
"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."
"What did I say that made your head blow off like that?"
He'd taken a sip of her beer, and instead of feeling annoyed, she'd found herself viewing it as domestic. She wondered when that had happened.
He pressed on, taking one of her legs in hand and lifting it up to rest over his shoulder. She shifted to get comfortable, and felt his breath on her for a agonizing second before pressing forward and licking a thick line from ass hole to labia.
"Was it the fact that we were doing it in front of all those people without them even knowing it?"
"That was pretty hot."
His tongue had started to trace the alphabet on the flesh just about her clit, teasing and making her arch when he formed letters like "j" and "q."
And he pulled back, quickly, and she'd looked down at him like he was deliberately being an asshole (which, in all fairness, he probably was) and he had cocked an eyebrow.
"Was it the part about my hands being able to get you anywhere you wanted to go?"
"That was pretty hot too," she admitted, and he had grinned.
"Yes, I know. But I'm not asking what was pretty hot, am I?"
This was like all those games of Dirty 20 Questions she played in college. Only this time, her partner could make her orgasm with his voice.
"What was I asking, Katie, doll?" His teeth caught something vital and delicate and her back arched in reply.
"What made me go off the way I did." Oh sweet Jesus, she'd told the ceiling tiles, he really is too good at this for it to be healthy.
"That's right. And what might the answer be?"
His thumb found her asshole and she started to feel heat and burn where none had been previously. Her cunt was dripping down onto her couch, and she would have shifted to clean it up if her legs were working.
"You said-- dear God, Gibbs, don't stop that-- you said that I had to sit there and-- uh, fuck me-- take it."
And he'd fucked her with his tongue in reward.
Later, sitting panting on her couch while he played with the beer bottle's label and tried not to look so pleased with himself, Kate had rolled over and flopped into his lap.
"Okay, so maybe I have a few issues with control."
She'd almost forgotten who she was talking to for a moment there. Mr. In Control was her lover, after all, even if he didn't feel the need to bring that control into the bedroom with them. It still lingered in him, though, and she sees it when she looks; sees it with the eyes of the investigator that all the cases over all the years have given her.
Even when she is on top, his hands are on her waist to improve his ability to fuck her senseless. Whenever she is being worked over, some part of him is inevitably holding her down as if he fears she'll flee without it. He's surprisingly devoted for a man thrice married and thrice divorced.
Gibbs is a control freak. No matter where he is or what he is doing.
And maybe, she had thought then, it was about time she started celebrating it. "Didn't you once offer to tie me to your bed?"
And the eyes that are usually so calm and perfect had suddenly turned dark and went wide. She'd shocked him.
Good. It would have sucked to be alone.
"You'd be interested--- you'd want me to do that?" His fingers were shaking on her waist, and she smiled as she leaned down and kissed his neck gently. "Seriously?"
"Don't you want to?"
That had proved to be a big red button of his. His hips thrust up against her, and she had moved down to grind her still lax body against the bulge looming large and powerful underneath his jeans. He had looked up at her like she was the Goddess incarnate, and she had smiled.
"Don't you want me to lend you control for a night?" And that's what it all boils down to anyhow. No matter how big and strong he is, he is in control because she lets him be in control.
Best not to bring that up right now though, she thought, and had pressed on with her current plan of looking seductive and pretty.
And he had looked at her, swallowed, and nodded. "God yes."
She grinned. "Well then. That was simple enough, wasn't it?"
He'd nodded again, absently this time, and looked her over. "Now?"
"Not right now. You did just make me scream and leak onto my sofa. I think a little break would not go amiss." She'd risen, and he'd taken her hand as they walked towards the bedroom.
Later, naked and clean, she had snuggled up to his chest and kissed the side of his neck in the spot she had reserved for her and her alone. "I'm thinking... Friday."
"Friday's a good day."
"Nice and long and followed immediately by the weekend. So if you piss me off, you'll have all that time to make up for it," she'd joked, but the nervousness didn't leave the corner of his mouth. She climbed onto his lap and kissed it with all the passion she felt for this man and their coupling.
"I love you, Jethro Gibbs. You know that, right?"
"And do you love me?"
He nodded and held her around the back, kissing her under her chin. "More than anything."
"Good. The rest of it is inconsequential. I trust you."
And that was all it took to get his lips to turn up in that almost smile that she so loved. "How'd I get so lucky to find you?"
"Damned if I know."
He'd given her looks all of this morning that could have melted steel down to a quivering puddle. She's surprised the computers didn't start to smoke.
Tony, of course, was just as oblivious as always. She didn't expect anything less from him-- Gibbs and her have been sharing each other's beds for close to three months now, and he still hasn't stopped flirting with her.
He offered her a ride on the Tony Machine (meaning the brand new Harley he had parked in the lot below), and she'd told him she liked toys that did something other than vibrate. He'd laughed and Gibbs' had smirked at his desk.
Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. She likes this new status quo-- it's been good to her.
The day passed quickly, and to her surprise she could feel the new nervousness in her stomach clench and boil. She'd been so excited about this just a few days ago-- nothing had changed, but why was she suddenly having doubts.
And then, that afternoon, Gibbs had helped her into her coat as usual, only this time his hand had come down to pinch her ass like the horny old man he wasn't, and she had almost jumped him right there and then.
Nervousness was a surprising aphrodisiac right now.
They'd chosen her apartment for this (because her apartment had the nice metal work headboard for attaching stuff to) and the second they had closed and locked the door behind them, he'd grabbed both of her hands in his and held tight.
Which led her here. Standing in the living room of her apartment, full dressed, being fucked with her lover's eyes.
"It's not to late to back out of this," he whispers against her neck, and she swallows down all of her nerves. "It won't disappoint me or anything-- no big deal."
The first time he had her in his bed, he offered her the same out. She didn't take it then.
Why go changing?
"Gibbs, fuck me." His pupils dilate. "I want you to fuck me. And if you don't want to, well, I will be disappointed."
His jaw sets. Clicks into place loudly in the silent apartment, and he drops her wrists from his hand.
"Go into the bedroom and get undressed." He grabs her ass again, and pulls her towards him. She can feel his cock pressing against her stomach, and she rubs into it as he locks her in a firm kiss.
His tongue is a thing of beauty, it really is. Her whole mouth is dancing and her eyes are turning hazy. She can feel the dampness seeping through to her pantyhose, and she grunts with the burn.
He pulls away with a groan of his own. Nice to know she's not the only one affected by this. "I want you naked when I get in there, lying on the bed, hands on the headboard."
No problem there.
Kate walks, no-- saunters into her personal domain, aware of his eyes on her back. The swing she puts into every step makes her ass go "pop" quite nicely, and his breathing gets heavier suddenly.
Nice to be a girl. Very nice.
She strips down, looking at the black and red lace matching panties and bra. A shame he won't get to remove them himself, but he's the one in control tonight.
The panties are pretty wet anyhow. Wearing them would be uncomfortable, and the last thing she wants right now is to be uncomfortable.
Kate stares down at the bed, a smile on her lips and a great rush of pleasure in her core.
Oh. This is going to rock. She is going to be tied to a head board, her body is going to be nude, and Jethro Gibbs is going to fuck her until her entire body shatters into a billion shards of glass and baby powder.
Friday's don't get much bette-
Apparently she'd been staring at the bed for too long. Because just as she's thinking this, something dark and silken comes across her eyes and ties behind her head with firm, deliberate pulls.
She was just blind folded. This wasn't part of the deal, as far as she can remember. She's just about to open her mouth to say something, when she remembers just how much she trusts and loves this man.
This man who looks at her like she's fairy dust and gold wrapped up in wrapping paper. Like she's the best gift he's ever gotten.
Let him take away my sight, thinks the bravest part of her. I get his body in return.
"I thought I told you to be naked on the bed." Oh, she knows that tone of voice. That's the voice that she's seen directed towards oh so many of her fellow agents (and never, thankfully, towards her). The one that asks how anyone dare defy his decree.
"Weren't those my exact words?"
"I thought so." She can feel him pressing her forward, and when she feels the comforter on her knees, she pauses. "You seem to have forgotten already who's in control right now." One of his strong hands comes down to wrap around her right ass cheek and squeeze. "I love your ass."
If she could work her mouth right now, she'd say something. Meh. Nothing she could say would be coherent anyway.
He steers her so she's lying up on the bed, hands at her side. She can feel the bed dip as he sits next to her, and one of his hands presses against her stomach gently.
"You're going to do something for me tonight, Katie." And he will never be able to call her that again without her thinking of this night and blushing. "I'm always the one talking to you. Telling you exactly what I want to do to you, or what I'm going to do to you."
He pauses. She can feel the dramatic tension pressing down on her body and deflating her lungs.
"Tonight, your only job is to do exactly what I want you do to. And first on that list is talk." He takes her arms and lifts them up over her head to wrap her hands around the metal. Something soft and stretchy wraps around each wrist, and she can hear him threading it through the metal. When he's done, he grabs her hands and gives it a good tug. A strong sailor's knot. It's not coming out.
"You have to talk to me tonight," he continues. "Everything I do, every time I touch you-- you have to tell me exactly what it feels like. Exactly what you want. To the letter." His eyes are tracing her now, she knows it. He must love the way her breasts are tugged up by her bound arms. "Do you understand?"
She finds herself nodding, and stops. "Yes."
Silence for a moment. There's not a single sound in the room, and he doesn't touch any part of her. He's working her over without any contact, without any friction, and her thighs are damp and hot right now.
And slowly, so slowly she'd not even sure it's happening until it's about half way done, Gibbs takes one ankle in each hand and pulls her legs open. He presses her feet flat against the bedspread and then retreats.
"What do you want me to do?"
His tongue clicks against his teeth, and she hears the clink of something against glass. Ice water? Did he make himself a drink?
"You have to be more specific than that, honey." His voice is coating her along with his eyes. "For example, there are at least three different places in your body that I could, as you so eloquently put it, fuck you. Eight if I'm feeling adventurous. Be specific." A thumb comes to rest on her chin, and she feels it slowly drag itself down her body.
She could cut glass with her nipples right now, but his finger only gives each one a gentle circle of loose pressure. Not satisfying. Just... fucking frustrating.
Exactly the response he's going for, if she's not mistaken.
"Fuck my cunt," she grunt, and the thumb presses a bit firmer in reward. She can do porn star, Kate thinks to herself quietly. She's had enough perverted boys in her bed-- she can definitely do porn star.
"With what, darling?" The pet names keep changing. Keeps it from being predictable. Keeps her from getting too comfortable.
His thumb traces her belly button, one of her more ticklish, and therefore erogenous zones, and she grits her teeth firmly. "With your cock."
The thumb leaves entirely, and she grunts as she tries to follow it.
"Fuck your cunt with my cock? Is that right, Katie?"
"Oh." She can hear his breath coming slow and even. "I don't think I want to do that just yet." And she groans.
Not fucking fair.
She can hear the laughter in his voice. "That would just be a little bit too easy, Katie, honey."
Laugh it up, big boy, she thinks uncharitably. It's your turn next Friday night.
The thumb comes back again, wet this time, and she feels more fingers pressed against her gently. Like he's got something in his fist. What could be possibly have in his fist? She tries to tune into her other senses like the blind are supposed to be able to, but nothing seems to be happening. All she can smell is him and her own arousal.
Everything is is white.
The wet train down her body is left sitting, and it's just cold enough to bother her without being uncomfortable. His fingers trail down to her opening, and she feels his pointer finger slip inside her, just the tip, and she arches and thrusts forward as it retreats. Her entire body is humming and her cunt is way too wet and way too hot and she is just going to have to tell him to stop and jump him immediatel-
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It was ice. It was ice! The thing in his god damned hand was a cube of ice, and she knows this because all of a suddenly his fingers have trailed down to her anus, and something smooth and extremely cold has been pushed into her ass while the fingers retreat up to her cunt and all the air in her body has suddenly started coming out of her in a long wordless wailing sound of need.
Dear. Mother. Mary.
He's grinning. She knows it. She can just... see it.
It's melting and burning and cooling, and the contrast of temperatures is sending her entire body into a tailspin of massive proportions. He had three fingers buried her, while the thumb is down further, pressed against her ass hole-- a constant pressure on top of the cold that makes her entire life narrow down to the feel of him on her and the sensation of his control wrapped around her.
"Tell me," he orders, and she swallows desperately to try and get some control over her mouth.
"Oh, Jesus, damn, damn, damn... Feels like I'm being burned and frozen at the same time. Feels wet and hot... Please, please, please..."
"Fuck me. In my cunt, with your cock-- please, please, please." The porn star is really on a roll tonight. "I feel empty, need to be filed." He groans at the image. She so owns his punk ass right now, even if she is tied to her own bed and blind folded. Good. "I need it!"
His breath is coming harsh and uneven now. All of that carefully orchestrated control is slipping away, and she knows it.
"I want you to tell me something." She would recite Shakespeare right now if she thought it would get her any closer to orgasm.
"When was the first time you knew you wanted me. And don't lie, or I'll know it." He would.
The ice has melted. She feels the bed shift, and then there's another, bigger piece pressed up against her anus, and she's wailing as it gets slipped in where the other one once was. His fingers never pause in their assault on her cunt and her clit is practically buzzing now.
...What was he asking again? Oh yeah.
"It was after the Willis case." His other hand comes up to play with her nipples in reward, and she is momentarily distracted with his impatient pull on her right breast. "When the P-P-Petty Officer had us in the basement and you told me that real men didn't need to keep women locked up to keep them. I wanted to-- uhhhhmmmm-- I wanted to know if you could hmmmmm... if you could have kept me... Wanted to know if you could have fucked me until I couldn't even crawl.."
It was true. She'd masturbated to that image for weeks after that case, wondering if he could keep her from ever wanting to leave his bedroom. Her fantasy Gibbs was a little less foreplay interested, and a lot more... laced with a sexual cruel streak, but he was nothing compared to the real deal.
Nothing compared to this...
And then she feels him, hot and heavy and all powerful above her, arm folded near her head. "Hey Katie?"
"Uhhhh.. Yeah? Yeah?"
"I'll be keeping you." And his fingers are suddenly out of her and something much more substantial is pressed up inside of her, and nothing in the world matters but the feeling of every inch of him pushing into her.
...Her throat is open. Something is coming out of her mouth, some plea, but she can't understand her own words, and she doubts they made sense. She can hear a "fuck" in there every now and then, but that's all that makes sense.
He's biting her neck, he's squeezing her hips, and his cock, that perfect instrument of her enjoyment, is moving in and out of her body at a pace that's fast enough to make her shake and pant. Something is coming out of his mouth, melting into her words, and she can feel his tone against her skin.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck, oh God, damn Katie..."
Kate's head is twirling, wrapped in a wet sheet or some other such haze, and all she can see behind the darkness of her eyelids is an image of his cock pushing into her.
One of his hands, the considerate one, drifts down their bodies. Her clit begs for it, waits in perfectly erect anticipation. And his thumb presses into her asshole, shifting the ice cube around, fucking her ass on his digit, and her cunt contracts around him hard.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
There's a low hum through out her entire body, and it takes her sex and orgasm muddled brain a moment to realize that's him still thrusting into her and moaning against her neck. She twists her hands and pulls at the fabric, frees arms, and pulls the blindfold off.
His eyes are squeezed closed, his mouth open in shock and pleasure. She wraps one hand around his back and pulls herself up to seize his neck between her teeth, while wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling them closer together.
"You fuck like a man possessed, lover," she whispers into his ear. His hips move faster. "Nothing has ever felt like you do inside me. No one has ever made me want to just fall down and stop breathing." Small groans start coming out of his throat, and she grins. Good.
"I am going to suck your cock for an hour to pay you back for this," she whispers, and traces one hand down to his buttocks to squeeze. "I'll open up wide and take you in all the way, and all you'll have to do is sit back and fuck my face with that huge-"
And he's gone.
She's laughing when he picks his head off her shoulder. Not the best thing for his ego, but the large smile on her face is not one of mocking.
Joy. He managed to instill joy in this woman.
"That," he whispers into her throat in between bubbles of humor, "was one of the best sexual experiences of my life." And she just keeps laughing. "Though I do have to admit, the cackling isn't doing wonders for the aftermath."
She snickers and rolls him onto his back to sit on his chest. He can feel various fluids leaking out of her to pool on his stomach, and he doesn't seem to mind all that much.
"Gibbs," she giggles, "I love you so much it scares me some times, even if you are so totally a guy."
He blinks up at her, raises an eyebrow, and twines one arm around her waist. "Thank you. I think."
She allows herself to be pulled down to rest on top of him, and when his mouth seeks hers, she is more than willing. He traces her hairline and loves every inch of her.
"Next Friday," she says, "I think I'd like to see how long you really can last when I give you an hour long blow job."
"You'll be sorely disappointed," he whispers into her hair, even though the image is making his grin do a happy dance across his face.
She giggles again into his chest and kisses his cheek with all the zeal she can muster after having been fucked into submission while tied to his bed.
"I don't think I will, Gibbs. I really don't think I will."