Help Me Rhonda

Wouldn't it be Nice?

His breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful, Daniel's olive green BDUs slipping down her shoulders to her bare back, over the curve of her ass, down her legs to the floor. She had no idea how incredible she was, and for a second he was overcome, overwhelmed, humbled by her very presence, a golden goddess among mere mortals. But then he put his hands on her, his calloused, mangled paws on her perfect, peachy skin, and she felt so good, strong, soft, warm. She whimpered, squirming under his touch, pushing her ass into him, offering herself to him, wanting him, and he obliged. Could he do anything else?

He unbuttoned his borrowed clothing, baring his chest to feel her skin against his, his cock stiff and weeping, seeking her warmth. She wiggled her ass at him, urging him, calling his name, until he took her hips to steady her. He slipped a strong arm around her belly, his other hand on her hip, and then fisted his cock, guiding himself to her opening. She widened her stance, leaning farther forward, angling her hips for his attack, feeling the broad, blunt head press into her, trying to stay still, but needing to push back.

She was so wet, so slick, so tight, anything resembling thought flew from his head. He became nothing more than a man, buried deeply in the body of the woman he loved, needing to thrust hard into her again and again until he'd driven them both to climax. And thus he did, using his arm around her to leverage his movements, leaning forward over her body, his hand seeking a surface on the panel in front of her to steady himself, giving himself a solid platform to anchor his thrusts.

Harder, he drove, grunting, sweat standing out on his forehead and chest, muscles tense and straining. Sam's back bowed, her hands slipping down the console as the force of his thrusts pushed them both toward completion, gasps and moans rising from her throat, her sex throbbing, heated, friction, fill and pull. She tightened around him, his own need more urgent with each tug of her muscles. He shifted the arm he had around her, slipping his fingers into her wet curls to find her clit, swollen and pulsing. He dropped his weight across her back, impaling her, driving into her body, his hand sliding down the panel, landing on the Ancient device, powering it up.

The room filled with light, pale lavender, pink, buttery yellow streaks circulating around their heads and shoulders, swirling softly, silvery blue, iridescent green lacing through the gentler colors, forming whirling eddies, ripples and cascades, licking their hair and faces. Neither of them noticed. They labored together, carnal interactions, his intrusion, her acceptance, his invasion, her reception, the eternal dance, primal rhythms, fill and stretch, enclose and embrace, angling and pushing, withdrawing and returning, driving, thrusting, ecstasy their bright goal. He pushed into her until she felt him in her belly, her heat, her flesh wrapped around him so tightly, her intimate caress, muscles throbbing, blood pulsing, filling him, filling her.

Jack's heart beat echoed through him, in his ears, his chest, his cock. He vibrated with it, his entire body a finely stretched thread, tensile strength pulled to the breaking point. He drove into Sam fiercely, possessing her body, taking her heat, molding her softness to his form, stretching and marking her. She belonged to him. His fingers on her clit, playing her arousal, his cock inside her, slamming into places which made her sigh and cry his name, she was his. With his every thrust her body jammed forward, breasts bouncing, belly clenching, her own blood pounding, breath catching, her muscles pulsing. The pull of his callused fingertips on her sensitive clit brought her higher and higher, rubbing, circling, pressing, until she knew she couldn't take it any longer. She exploded, her muscles in spasm, rigor tight, then loose, then rigid again, over and over, ripples pulling on his cock, a slick caress, rhythmically grasping him, drawing him in, releasing, then deeper still.

Her climax throbbed around him, robbing him of all sense, snapping what little control he may have possessed, her body, his temple, her demand, his offering. He buried his face between her shoulder blades, her skin silky against his whiskery cheeks, and allowed himself to release, freeing the beast, flooding her with his seed. He drove into her once, twice, a third time, each thrust bringing another throbbing ejaculation rising from his body into hers, hot, fresh, roiling.

Sam, her final spasms quieting, moaned to feel him within her, hard, unrelenting, powerful, the flood of his seed pooling beneath her womb, her cervix softened by climax. She felt a strange bubbling sensation in her belly, as if something were spinning, whirling around and around and around inside her. The sensation passed quickly, and then she noticed the lights. “Jack!” He groaned, still unable to formulate thoughts or words. “Jack!” she said more urgently, beginning to hoist herself upright, bucking against the dead weight of his body above her. He opened his eyes.

“Holy shit!” He rose, looking around. “What the fuck is all this?” The lights, which circled, dipped and flicked around them, as they pleasured each other, became more stable, quieter, lazy, almost.

Sam, immediately looked down at the Ancient device. “I think it's this thing,” she said, feeling him soften within her, their fluids slipping down the inside of her legs, and across the tops of his thighs, wetting the fabric of Teal'c's BDUs.

“Yah, well,” he said, leaning over, tapping it. The device shut down, without so much as a whirr.

“What did you do that for?” she asked, her hands on her hips, turning and glaring at him.

He stepped back, looking at her, a smirk on his face. “You're hot when you're mad,” he said looking at her breasts, “... and naked.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, leering.

She wanted to be angry, but the way her body felt, the deep feeling of satisfaction, the hum in her sex, the sensation of a light electrical current skipping across her skin, and the way he was looking at her, his handsome face amused, the lines of worry softened with the pleasure she brought him ... well, she just couldn't stay mad. She favored him with the smile she reserved only for him, sparkling blue eyes, bright white teeth and warmth that came from friendship, respect and love. He pulled her to him and held her, smoothing her hair back, basking in that smile.

“Guys!”

“Daniel!” they said in unison. The bespectacled archaeologist was coming down the corridor toward them. Jack released her and helped her pull up her BDUs. She put her back to the door and began a hurried re-buttoning process, while Jack did the same.

“So you got that thing to work... oh no!” he said, as he saw what they were doing. “You didn't... I mean, you weren't... surely, not in here,” he said, stuttering. “Because that wouldn't be a good thing... no, not a good thing,” he said, looking from one officer to the other.

“If you're asking if we did it,” Jack made air-quotes with his fingers, “in here, then ... it's none of your business, but ... yes, we did.”

“Why?” Sam asked. Her usual shyness overcome by her need to know what Daniel apparently knew... something about the Ancient device.

“Because of what it says,” Daniel responded, walking over to the device, pointing to a group of markings on the side.

“And,” Jack said impatiently.

“Well, it says, 'for immediate fertility',” Daniel replied.

“For immediate fertility?” Sam asked. “What's that mean?”

“I don't exactly know, but the Asgaard thought that it was capable of restoring their ability to reproduce sexually.” He let that statement percolate for a moment before adding, “So I guess you should get a pregnancy test as soon as we get back, Sam.”

“What?!?” the two officers asked.

* * * * * * * *

It's him, she thought, taking a peek at the tall, handsome, silver-haired man pushing a cart ahead of her in the supermarket. She held back, watching him walk, pause, take some colorful cereal from the shelf and drop it into his cart, before moving on again. It was definitely him. It was Jack, and Rhonda didn't know whether to stop him and say hello, or sneak out the back.

She took a deep breath and sighed. She had to. She had to say hello, if only to see him again. It had taken months to rid herself of the feeling of his hands on her. The next two guys she dated didn't stand a chance as long as the memory of his cock inside her was fresh. She knew, even as she took him home that one time, that he was trouble, that he was in love with another woman, but he treated her right and he felt so good, that she couldn't just forget him... at least not right away.

It had been about eight months since then. She was over him, finally, dating a nice guy with a kid, who cared about her and wanted to make her happy. He wasn't Jack, but he was a good man, and she was thinking about settling down. So, when she saw him there, in the grocery store, she thought, well, I might as well see if I'm really ready to go on with my life.

She followed him around the endcap and into the next aisle, pulling up beside him. He was enmeshed in a can of soup, or something, so he didn't respond when she first said his name. “Jack,” she said, waiting. “Jack!” she said with a little more urgency. He turned, looking at her curiously. She watched for signs that he recognized her and sighed quietly to herself, when he seemed merely polite. “You probably don't remember me,” she said.

“Of course I do,” he said, laying a big hand on her shoulder, “Rhonda.” Her face lit in a bright smile. “How are you?” he asked.

“I'm... good, Jack,” she said hesitating. “Haven't seen you at the bar in a while,” she offered, keeping the conversation light.

He cleared his throat, looking down, a slight flush suffusing his tanned cheeks. “Uh... no, I've been ... a little busy,” he said. Sam rounded the corner, looking for him, finding him talking with a woman, her eyes devouring Jack whole. Sam felt a small surge of possessiveness, the need to rip this interloper into shreds, before her higher functions kicked in. She plastered a small smile across her face.

“Jack?” The woman turned and looked up at her as she came to Jack's side, a flare of recognition in her eyes. “Want to introduce me to your friend?” Sam asked.

“Sam?” He took her hand. “Sam, this is Rhonda.” Sam looked at him in confusion. “You know...” he said, fixing her with his eyes. She frowned slightly. He sighed. “The night of your not-wedding...” He paused, waiting.

Sam got it. “Oh, Rhonda,” she said, and for the briefest of moments the woman under scrutiny felt a distinct chill, a deep thrill of fear, looking into the blond woman's sapphire eyes. It passed as quickly as it came, and Rhonda found herself enveloped, somewhat awkwardly, in Sam's arms. “Rhonda,” she said warmly. “Thank you for being there for Jack. It was a bad time... and you helped him through it.” Sam stepped back and took Rhonda's hand. She squeezed it gently, before letting it go. She looked up at the man by her side, pleased to see his cheeks go pink with embarrassment. Sam was definitely going to make him pay for this later, and it made her smile, brilliantly.

Rhonda stirred up her courage to speak. “I guess...” Her voice came out all squeaky. She cleared her throat. “I guess, you two finally got together?” she asked. Sam nodded, her hand unconsciously sliding over her swelling belly. Jack, watching the exchange from the periphery, put his arm around her, pulling her to his side possessively.

“Something like that,” he said, a smirk forming on his face, his hand descending protectively over the bump that was his soon-to-be-born child. “Oh!” he said abruptly. Sam smiled at him brightly. “She kicked,” he said to Rhonda by way of explanation.

“She knows her daddy,” Sam said, like caramel in her mouth.

“Well, the best of luck to you... to all of you,” Rhonda said, moving rapidly away from the happy couple, swallowing a lump which formed without her permission in her throat.

“Bye!” Jack said, offering a small wave to Rhonda's retreating back.

“Bye, Rhonda,” Sam said, louder, the other woman turning and waving, before scurrying off. “Nice woman, Jack,” she said, looking up at him, a snarky smile on her face.

“Don't start with me, Carter,” he said, pulling her back to his chest, his arms around her from behind, his face in her neck.

“What?” she responded, her voice soft and innocent.

“I know you, Sam,” he said in her ear, his voice rumbling through her, his breath making gooseflesh break across her chest, her swollen nipples tightening painfully. He flicked the tip of his tongue out, capturing her ear lobe, sucking it into his hot mouth. She moaned his name. “Now,” he said, “are you gonna be nice?” he asked, one hand sliding over her tender breast, thumb circling the sensitive nipple, oblivious to the possibility of observation by other shoppers.

She disengaged from his grip, turning to face him. “What are you going to do for me?” she asked, a wicked little grin on her face.

“Foot massage?” he asked hopefully. She shook her head. “Breakfast in bed?” he suggested. She frowned. “Laundry? ... Dinner?... Clean the toilets?” Her lip curled negatively with each proposition. “What, then?” he asked, throwing his hands up.

She crooked her index finger at him, beckoning, pursing her lips. He bent toward her, allowing her to take his head in her hands. She whispered in his ear, delighted when he flushed.

“Is that safe... in your condition?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“That's how I got in this condition,” she responded, raising a Teal'c-like eyebrow.

“Well, then,” he said, eying her, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip. “Whatever my lady wants,” he said, offering her a mock bow. She laughed at him and turned to walk away. Quickly he snaked out a hand and gave her a swat on the butt. She glared at him over her shoulder, dissolving into a grin by the time he came to her side, a strong arm draped over her shoulders.

Unconsciously, Jack began to whistle. The tunelessness devolved into a recognizable song. Sam looked up at him, startled. He was whistling “Help Me, Rhonda” by the Beach Boys. “Jack O'Neill!” she said, as his arm slipped off her and he took off down the aisle, knowing... in her condition... she wouldn't be able to catch up to him and kick his most deserving ass.