Disclaimer – MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own the characters. Though they may not want to.
NC-17, humour. It's official - you guys have turned me into a sex fiend.
Sequel to Irresponsible, though it's not absolutely necessary to have read it. Feedback would be loved.
So...you can blame Tracy for this.
*
If there was one thing that could be said about Jack O'Neill, it was that he didn't do things by half measures. If he was going to screw up, he was really going to screw up. If he was gonna break the regs, he was *really* gonna break the regs.
If there was another thing that could be said about Jack O'Neill, it was this: he was running seriously late.
Technically it was only ten minutes, but when it came to having sex with Carter, running ten minutes late was pretty *damn* serious.
He strolled along the corridors of the SGC, hands casually slung into his pockets - which was anything but the truth. In reality his hands were clenched tight, the only sign that he actually wanted to run through the base as fast as his crappy knees could carry him.
Still, he had to convey the mood that everything was normal. Same as usual. Nothing had changed. They may have been screwing the regs (and each other), but they were at least trying not to be obvious about it.
So he meandered around the SGC, murmuring and nodding at people he didn't even really see, until his feet took him to his destination. Unclenching his right hand, he slipped it out of the pocket and - as casually as possible - opened the door to the storage room.
The lights were already on. That was a good sign.
He didn't, however, call out her name. They'd chosen this room specifically because it was one of the few places on base that didn't have any kind of surveillance, but on the off chance someone else happened to be in there, Jack wasn't taking the risk.
As the door clicked shut behind him he stepped further into the room, moving between the various rows of shelving. Rolls of toilet paper, light bulbs, a really quite stunning array of all the things Jack often forgot were needed to help run the base.
But that really wasn't what he was interested in right now.
He eventually found her, behind all the shelving units, at the furthest corner in the back of room. "Hey,"
Carter's eyes opened, unfocused, as she smiled. "I was beginning to wonder where you were."
"Sorry. Hammond wanted to...ooo..." Jack finally noticed exactly why her eyes had been closed, and suddenly the rest of his sentence went completely AWOL. For all he knew, Hammond could have wanted to dress up in a chicken suit. All that mattered now, was the fact that Carter was touching herself. Masturbating. Right in front of him.
Carter was masturbating in front of him.
Legs slightly bent at the knees, back resting against the wall.
"Puuuhhhhh," He breathed out, blinking, not quite believing what he was seeing.
Her smile probably grew, but he could focus on nothing else but the movement of her hand.
"Well," She explained in a soft, almost-not-existing voice. "I had to keep myself occupied until you arrived." Then she closed her eyes again, tilted her head back, and moistened her lips.
Still moving her hand.
Jack's brain - incapable of serious thought process at that particular moment - quite clearly didn't need its blood supply anymore, so it rapidly relocated elsewhere. Nostrils flaring, he slowly walked towards her, pausing bare inches away. Sensing his presence or hearing the footsteps, she opened her eyes, her body shifting gently on the wall as she moved against her hand.
His mouth clashed with hers, but that was all that did; his hands carefully skimming over her body where all he wanted to do was hold, clutch, *grasp*. Tongues tangling together she finally moved her hand away, instead wrapping that arm around his neck to pull him closer.
Ending the kiss, her mouth moved to his ear, speaking in a heavy voice: "I want you inside me."
There was no doubt: she was trying to make him come just through talking. But hey - he wasn't about to deny Carter *anything*.
Though her pants had been unbuttoned they were still most of the way up; her hand had been moving beneath the layers of clothing. Stepping back just far enough he yanked her pants and underwear down, helping her to step out of them (both of them cursing then ultimately laughing when her pants got stuck around her boots, but they eventually got them off completely).
Moving back up, frantic hands (belonging to one or both of them), pulled at the belt and buttons of his own pants, tugging the clothing out of the way. Her legs immediately wrapped around him, her hips angling up as his hands helped support her.
Wrapping a hand around him (causing an extremely undignified but understandable yelp), she slowly, torturously, lowered herself onto him.
Jack frowned heavily in concentration as he slid inside, his fingers flexing on her hips. Fuck, she was so...*Carter*. Hot, perfect, and mind-blowing. She probably wouldn't appreciate that description, but that didn't make it any less true.
And though part of him could quite happily stay buried where he was forever, another - more instinctive part - moved his hips.
He groaned. She whimpered.
"Colonel?"
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!
What the fuck was he doing there?! The only saving grace was that, from behind here, they couldn't be seen.
Keeping very, very still, Jack pressed his forehead against the wall. "Yeah, Jonas?" It was a little high pitched, but his voice almost sounded normal.
"Sergeant Siler told me he'd seen you go in here,"
At that point Carter's mouth went quietly to his ear. "Remind me to kill Siler."
Not that he didn't agree with the sentiment, but she *really* needed to stop panting into his ear. And, apparently knowing that, she did something utterly evil: she flexed her internal muscles.
"Ho-!" His vision blurred, and he struggled to remember what the hell was going on. "I mean, what do you want?"
Lifting his head from the wall he could see that she was far, far too pleased with herself. Naturally, he did the only thing he could. Jack took his right hand away from her hip, and smoothed it across her body until it teased her clitoris.
Closing her eyes, she bit into her lower lip.
"Have you seen Major Carter? She's not in the control room, or her lab."
Seeing Carter? He could say that...and then he couldn't say anything as she clenched again. God, any more and he was gonna, "Come!" Shit. "Commissary. Commissary. Have you tried the commissary?" Think think *think*. "You know Carter and her jello..."
He moved his fingers again, and she buried her face into his shoulder, a faint whisper emerging as not much more than the sound of her breath. "Fuuuuuck,"
Oh yeah. But she deserved it.
"Good idea, Colonel - thanks. See you later!"
Jack didn't know what was more worrying: that Jonas didn't even bother asking what he was doing at the back of the storage room, or that he didn't *need* to ask.
But as Jonas left, and the door clicked shut, and their mouths mashed together, and they resumed thrusting, and his fingers continued stroking her clit, need was all that existed.
She came apart quickly, his new assault aiding her earlier ministrations as she clutched, gasped, jerked and God it was enough to set him off too, but he was gonna be loud, he was *so* gonna be loud, and as he shuddered he moaned into her mouth.
Breathing, forehead-to-forehead, mouths separating, his right hand moved to absently massage her ass. "We gotta start," Look at that neck. He *loved* that neck. "Doing this someplace without a prospective audience."
A hand stroked the back of his head. "Third time lucky?"
God, if she could only keep touching him until he wouldn't be around to touch anymore...Jack grinned, kissing that neck. "Yeah. Something like that."
~FINIS