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When Major Samantha Carter, the lanky, gorgeous blonde with legs up to her neck; sauntered through the door of the bar, I noticed that every patron's attention went to her. I received no attention whatsoever, despite the fact that I was hanging on Sam's arm and in their line of sight. I guess 5'1.75" doesn't equal dangerous, no matter how smoldering Sam says my eyes are.
It didn't help that Sam's own eyes were large and movie-star blue, or that she was wearing tight stone-washed jeans and a black leather jacket that gave her the appearance of a 5'9" sex goddess.
It didn't help that this had all been my idea.
The bar in Denver was a classic poolhall, frequented by local champs and run by a friend of Sam's who'd been a defense contractor before his retirement. We'd been there before. Not being a pool shark myself, however, I'm sure I was only recognized as "That floozy who comes in with Carter sometimes."
Little hustling went on there, the games were was more a test of skill, though money was still involved. Sam liked to keep her talents honed, and I can only imagine what kind of rebellious childhood inspired lockpicking, pool, and motorcycles. Being the brilliant child of a single, demanding parent in the military probably hadn't been easy, but I was unsympathetic. I had come up with my own label for her energized behavior--precocious.
Unlike all the times we'd gone out together to this particular establishment before, I bet Sam a week's salary she couldn't pretend to be a sex goddess extrovert for ten minutes. I appealed to her competitive nature. I wanted to see her act sexy outside of the privacy of our bedroom. I wanted her to show me that pool was a phallic metaphor, not a toy for astrophysics geeks.
So, apparently, did everyone else.
Despite having had sex with the bombshell only minutes before in the car, I was seething with jealousy. I looked up at Sam as our strides took us to the center of the room, ready to capitulate, but the smirk on her face told me it was too late. She'd discovered her power, and she was going to use it.
Besides, there was pool to play.
Sam racked up for a practice round while I made my way to the bar to pout into a gin and tonic. I never played myself, despite the erotic pleasure of "lessons" when Sam was wrapped around me, teaching me how to hold a pool cue. I heard the crack of the break and glanced over my shoulder at the central pool table. I usually loved watching Sam play, but now men were swarming around her like cicada, blocking my view.
My drink arrived and I blew bubbles, and felt very much like a washed up middle-aged doctor pathetically looking for attention at the local watering hole. I was wearing slacks and a sweater vest, my usual clothes. Sam had encouraged me to dress up, but I protested that the bet was about her. I wasn't willing to do anything to distract from her sleek form, and now that Sam was doing exactly what I wanted her to be doing, I wished she wasn't doing it. I grumbled and ordered another drink, then turned to catch glimpses of Sam through the crowd.
A flash of Sam's butt flexing beneath tight jeans caught my attention, followed by a fleeting vision of a firm hand gripping a pool cue. Strands of blond hair waved from above the heads of shorter men. I pieced these fragments into a fantasy Sam and was enjoying shifting body parts around to Picasso my lover when I heard her voice.
"Hey, boys," Sam said loudly.
The image I'd created shattered and I found myself staring at the real thing. Sam's eyes were on mine, and they crinkled at the corners. "That," she said to the barflies, "Is my girlfriend here to cheer me on. I'd appreciated it if you didn't block her view."
My eyes widened.
Barflies' eyes widened.
Sam winked at me, then turned back to her game. I gulped my quinine as the sound of pool resumed. The men had only been momentarily stunned by Sam's announcement and began flirting with new tactics.
"Aw, Carter, a little filly like that ain't got what you need. Where's the stamina?"
I bristled. I'd like to see them work an eight-hour triage on a desert planet.
"Red in the back right corner pocket," Sam replied blithely, expertly tapping the ball into the hole.
"A little pretentious-looking, isn't she? What is she, a lawyer?"
I watched Sam smirk as she replied. "No, doctor." A collective, testosterone-laden sigh echoed through the room. Apparently doctors were at the top of the food chain in Denver.
Satisfied with my credentials, I settled in to watch Sam play. She bent over to concentrate on her aim and thrust her ass out in my direction. I couldn't help but think it was deliberate. I studied her firm cheeks, hardened by years of off-world fieldwork, wrapped in denim that hugged every curve. When she flexed to make her shot, and muscles rippled along the backs of her thighs, I actually gasped.
"Holy mother of God," I murmured, staring at Sam's ass. The things I had done to that particular part of her flooded my memories, until all I could think about was kissing and biting and spanking that flesh blocked by denim and fifteen feet I didn't have the strength to traverse.
The bartender must have noticed I was flushed. "Another G&T?"
"Please," I croaked.
Sam turned around to catch my eye and wink, and I nearly screamed at her for blocking my view of her rear.
She gave me a quizzical look. My expression matched every man's in the room. I heard the chink of glass and turned to my drink for relief.
Sam must have turned back to the game, for I heard the strike of the ball, and the menÕs conversation filled my ears. "Hey, Carter, howÕs your old man?"
"He's good, out traveling around, enjoying his retirement," she recited. Only I heard the half-truths wobbling as they left her lips.
"Last time he was in here with you all," another male voice broke in, "He was all decked out in Buddhist robes. He find Eastern religion or something?"
Sam laughed, and I dared to look at her again. She was smiling and gesturing gamely, but I could see the insecurity in her features that thoughts of her father brought her. "Jacob?" She was saying. "You've gotta be kidding me."
I caught her eye, and licked my lips. I swear she nearly fell over. A wild grin returned to her features. "Any games left in you?" She addressed her buddies, but she was staring straight at me.
"I'll take you for an Andrew Jackson," A regular piped up.
"It's all about the physics, you know," Sam replied. "I've got a Ph.D. in that."
"Naw, Carter, it's all about the heart, and you ain't got none."
I begged to differ.
Sam slapped a bill on the wood. "Hold on before we break," she said to her new conquest, and sauntered my way.
I licked my lips again because my mouth had gone dry, and watched her stride until she towered over me. "Do you mind holding my jacket?" She asked. "I'm getting rather hot."
I swallowed.
She shrugged out of the leather, and swiveled me around to face the bar before draping the jacket over my shoulders. "Thanks, baby," she crooned, then leaned around and kissed my cheek.
Her lips were warm, and I mourned their loss when a voice called, "Carter, those good luck kisses aren't gonna help you none, get over here and face this game like a man." Sam obliged.
I slid my arms into the sleeves of the coat, wrapping it around me to inhale Sam's scent. The bartender removed my empty glass and set another one in front of me. "This looks suspiciously like ice water."
"You'll thank me later," he winked.
I glowered at him, but he pretended not to see my expression and moved down the bar to help another patron. I inhaled deeply, pressing my nose to the jacket, as if the scent of her soap and the leather were oxygen. I slid my hands into the pockets of the jacket. The fingers of my right hand touched foil. A square, with a ring imprinted inside. I furrowed my brow. Did Sam know she had a condom in her pocket?
I had a feeling she did. I went back to watching her play. God, Sam was graceful. I watched her arch her back as she leaned into a shot. Without her jacket, she was just wearing a white shirt that hugged her breasts and left her midriff bare. Sam ran her hand through her hair and squinted at the layout of the balls. Her shirt rode up as she stretched over the table, and I could see her bare lower back. She was tanned and smooth, and the slope of her back led to the belt of her jeans...
"So, you're a doctor?"
I blinked and looked to my left, where the voice had come from. A barfly nodded politely at me.
"Yes." I said, trying to find words in the English language that didn't have anything to do with Sam's anatomy. Being a doctor wasn't helping me out in that regard--I knew far too many words to describe far too many parts of my lover. I cleared my throat. "In the Air Force," I managed. I glanced back at the pool table for Sam, but she was gone. I scanned the room for her, while the man next to me introduced himself. I didn't catch his name.
Sam finally strutted through the main tavern doors again, wearing a smug expression. Something had changed. I studied her carefully; Blond hair in haphazard clumps on her forehead, two blue eyes filled with merriment, one clingy, short-sleeved cotton shirt, hip-hugging, stone-washed jeans--I paused in my examination, inhaling sharply. Just below and to the right of her button fly, there was a slight bulge. To the untrained eye, an air pocket, perhaps, but I could tell that Sam was packing.
She'd gone out to the car for a toy. I clung to the sides of my chair and gulped.
Sam came directly to me. "Nice jacket," she commented, fingering the collar.
"No shit," I muttered. She leaned against my hip as she spoke to Joe the bartender. Something pressed into my thigh. Something hard. Something big.
I swallowed reflexively. Sam rested her hand on my shoulder. "I won 80 bucks tonight, Joe, so a round on me."
Barflies cheered.
I slipped my arm around Sam's waist.
"And a few quarters for the jukebox?" Sam asked Joe.
I raised my eyebrow and glanced prudishly at the dust-covered jukebox sitting forlornly in the corner of the bar. We'd never danced here before. I wasn't sure anyone had ever danced here before. It was a pool hall, for crying out loud.
Sam looked down at me. "Just one dance." She was still smirking.
"Okay."
She took my hand and led me to the jukebox. "That guy was flirting with you," Sam said to me.
"What guy?"
"The one next to you who asked if you were a doctor."
"Must be the jacket," I murmured. She'd been paying attention?
"Or the thought of you in uniform," Sam commented.
"Or the sexy girlfriend."
She blushed. I smiled. I knew every eye was on us, so I concentrated very hard on the song titles when we got to the jukebox. The tunes were all very old, and all very country. "Sam, what about--" I started, as she plunked change into the machine and hit a button.
That one... I was wordless as she led me a few steps to where the back corner was clear of tables.
Patsy Cline came statically over the speakers.
Sam took me into her arms. I rested my cheek against her breast, and for a moment wished she were still wearing the leather jacket. This way, though, I could feel the heat of her skin against my face. "I love you for doing this, Sam," I murmured, "In front of everyone."
"I can do anything," she responded. Then she slid her thigh between mine, and showed me the real reason we were dancing. The toy she was wearing touched me in all the right places as we gyrated slowly to the music. She took great care to tantalize me, and as a reward, I clung more tightly to her.
~Crazy for feeling...~
A soft groan escaped my lips. I was rubbing my crotch against Sam's front. I slid my hands under her shirt to explore her back, tracing that smooth expanse, feeling the muscles shift under my fingers. "Sam," I whispered hotly, as I traced her spine down to the waistline of her jeans. "Car, or bathroom?"
"I thought this was my night?" Sam pouted, easing away, so that I had to move forward to grind myself against her tall form. I was soaked, and I was ready, and at this point I didn't care if my lover was pouting. "I know," I purred cajolingly, "That's why I'm giving you a choice."
"How long have you been wet?"
"Since the jacket," I confessed.
She grinned, a wild expression that lit up her whole face. "Then I choose bathroom. We already did it in the car tonight."
"Sam, if you wanted to throw me over a table and fuck me, I wouldn't protest."
She considered that for a moment, then stepped away from me and offered her hand. The rest of the night was mine.
We went to settle the tab, largely covered by Sam's winnings. "Just gonna powder our noses, then we'll be out of your hair," I said to Joe.
He nodded. "Carter driving?"
"Oh, yes." The pool shark had drunk half a beer to my three gin and tonics, and she was twice my size. "We always bring her car anyway," I told Joe. "It's sexier." I blushed slightly, but prided myself on biting my tongue before the second statement escaped my lips. It has bigger seats.
I turned again to Sam, who grinned cheerfully. She was as docile as a drowsy puppy, but I wasn't fooled. I would be the one on my knees tonight.
We went to the ladies room, which was a one-room deal, and relatively clean, since we'd been the only women in the bar all night. Sam locked the door. Then she cupped my face in her two hands and leaned close. "Do I win?"
"Yes," I breathed, and tilted my head to receive her. Sam's mouth touched mine, hesitated, and then brushed my lips again. Lingered. I reached up to tangle my fingers in her blond hair. We were kissing, our mouths sealed with a passion usually reserved for reunions after long missions or moments of peril we weren't sure we'd survive.
Sam's tongue slipped between my lips, and I captured it to suck. The firm, wet organ flicking against my teeth reminded me of what I really wanted. "Sam," I panted, pressing into her.
"What?" She asked with confusion. I pulled back to look at her. Her lips were swollen from kisses, and her eyes were cloudy. I grabbed her crotch.
"Oh," she breathed.
"Yes."
"How?"
I licked my lips.
She said no more, but allowed me to push her back against the wall. I lowered the seat on the toilet and sat down, reaching forward to hook my fingers in her belt loops.
"Christ," she muttered, leaning her head back against the wall, looking at the ceiling.
I rested my cheek against the soft curve of her stomach. I freed my hands and stroked her hips, her ass, and her inner thighs. I squeezed and caressed her, but avoided artificial appendages. She would have to beg. Or command. It was her night--It was her choice.
"Janet," she moaned, as my teeth grazed her abdomen.
I drew back and looked up at her expectantly.
She saw the invitation in my expression and made her choice. "Ask for it," she commanded.
I stared at the top button of her jeans. I noticed that it said LEVI. Saw that the copper finish was dulled. Looked up to see her breasts, heaving under the modest shirt. I looked down again at my target. So sucking on some polymer would get Sam off? Seemed easy enough.
"Please," I whispered, hearing my voice crack.
"What?" Sam asked harshly, inhaling through her nose, her palms flat against the wall for balance.
"Please, Daddy, let me suck your cock."
For a moment, there was only the sound of our panting in the small bathroom. Then Sam's answer came. "You'd better do a damn good job."
This wasn't exactly the night I had imagined when I'd stepped into the poolhall holding Sam's arm, but I wanted it. "May I unbutton your pants?"
"Yes." Sam gritted her teeth.
I placed my hand on Sam's belt buckle. I wrenched it open with a good tug, and left the two ends hanging haphazardly from the loops.
For a moment, I had the desire to unloop the belt. It would be so easy to punish Sam for her audacity, for taunting me all night. I knew she would submit. I knew she'd love it. I knew she was okay with my constant need to control. But this was the night I had dared her to live, and I wanted her audacity just a little while longer.
Her eyes were still closed. I opened her fly. I slipped my hand into her jeans and immediately felt soft curls. No underwear. Smart girl. My fingers encircled the toy and I pulled it into view. "Sam," I called to my panting partner. "Watch."
Sam opened her eyes and looked down at me.
My left hand was wrapped around the cock that protruded from her jeans. When I had her attention, I jerked her, pressing the base of the toy against her center. She groaned. I squeezed, knowing I was making contact with her clitoris with each stroke.
"Janet," she whimpered, leaning heavily against the wall. I wondered if she could remain standing.
I released the toy long enough to pull the condom from my jacket pocket. Sam was watching my every move. I tore the foil and placed the latex between my teeth, before bending forward to roll the condom onto the cock with my mouth. The first time I'd done this, I'd given Sam some bullshit about hygiene, but really, I just found it sexy.
I resumed sliding my fist up and down the cock. "Does that feel good?"
Sam was thrusting her lips, trying to get the toy to touch that perfect spot between her legs. I kept my head close to the cock, hovering over the tip. Her hand found my hair, and then parted again, to hold herself against the wall. I could see the base of the cock was wet, her arousal transferring to the resin. I could smell her now, and I wanted to taste her. "Sam, please," I crooned. "Let me put it in my mouth."
Sam was watching me, still thrusting herself into my fist. "Not yet," she commanded breathily.
"Please," I said again. "Let me suck you. I'll be so good. Please."
"Stop talking," was all she managed to reply, as her eyes fluttered shut.
I took the head of the cock between my lips, moaning with the first taste of her. My tongue swirled around the tip. I was noisy, knowing she could still hear me. I slurped at the toy, and then took more of her into my mouth. "Sam, watch," I begged, muffled by the cock in my mouth.
She looked down. "Jesus," she sighed. Her hand went to my hair again, not guiding, just holding, as I bobbed my head in her lap. She was making incoherent, desperate sounds. I slipped my hand into her jeans and fondled her, timing my strokes with the thrusts of her hips against my face.
Sam was close. I expelled the head of the cock long enough to whisper, "Come for me, Sam. come in my mouth," before going down on her again. My arousal was so powerful that my own words sent tremors through me.
With one final thrust, Sam let out a soft cry, mindful of our setting, and sagged against the wall. She began to slip, and I quickly drew back and grabbed her hips.
"Sam?"
She fell to the floor in a heap. "I'm all right," She breathed. "Just need to rest a moment." She smiled glassily at me.
Sam was a tousled, blond pile, and I started to move toward her with the intention of cuddling but she touched my knee to stop me.
"Do you want me to fuck you?"
I shook my head rapidly, shivering at the thought. "I'm too sensitive. Too...ready." I felt myself blushing.
She gave me a feral grin and reached down to remove the condom and toss it into the trashcan. "Wish you'd worn a dress," she murmured, as her hands went to the zipper of my pants.
I lifted my hips, balancing on the porcelain seat, so that she could yank my slacks and underwear down to my knees. I spread my legs, knowing I was ripe and swollen, feeling the congestion between my thighs. I knew it wouldn't take much, and indeed, when Sam licked her lips, I nearly came, moved by the knowledge that she wanted me.
"Sam," I pleaded.
She bent her head to me and lapped tenderly.
The touch of her tongue between my legs was exquisite, and I quivered. Sam reached up to slide her hands under my jacket and encircle my waist, holding me in her arms as she licked.
"There," I whispered, as her tongue, warm and soft, teased the hood of my clitoris. "There."
She applied more pressure, and I felt the orgasm, shaking in her arms. I whispered her name and tugged at her head, and she rolled up on her knees to kiss me.
"Mm," I murmured, and she smiled against my lips.
We took turns at the sink, tucked the toy into my purse, and slipped out the back. I settled into the passenger seat of her car. I looked over at my partner and reached up to cup the back of her neck. She looked over at me.
"I love you, Sam," I said quietly.
She dropped her hand from the ignition and rested it on my thigh. "I love you, too."
We sat together, savoring the night.