The Gift That Keeps On Giving

TITLE: The Gift That Keeps On Giving

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 2 of ?

FANDOM: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles

SHIP: John / Cameron

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Smut

SPOILERS: Season One and Two

UNIVERSE: Companion piece to "Happy Birthday". Connor decides to see what else Cameron can show him about being with a woman.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. None of these characters belong to me. They belong to the creators, writers and producers of the show. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - midknight_tales@yahoo.com

CHAPTER TWO

It was a still, hot L.A. night and the curtains hung limp and motionless on either side of his open window. John lay on his bed in his room, bare-chested with his t-shirt lying on top of his boots where he had kicked them off on the floor. He was reading or that was what he told himself. He had reread the same page about six times without actually taking in a word. He tossed the book and got up, going to his desk and sitting down in front of his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys and then he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair before cradling his forehead in his hand.

He caught a flicker of movement, just out of the corner of his eye and tensed for a moment calculating which was closer, the gun in his dresser draw or the one under his pillow. He was supposed to be alone in the house. "What are you doing besides presenting your back as a target to an open door?" a familiar voice asked from his doorway and he turned in his seat to find Cameron leaning casually against the doorframe. He hadn't heard her. "Make some noise when you do that will ya or I might have to tie a bell on you so that I can hear you coming." He responded as he let his gaze slide down her body covered by a loose, red camisole top, short denim skirt and white and brown cowboy boots revealing a tantalizing hint of cleavage and her smooth shapely arms and legs. Her hair was loose and cascaded down over her shoulders in a mass of dark curls that framed her pixie features and unwavering stare.

John deliberately turned his back to her to face the laptop screen as his dick started to stir in his boxers and his mind started to replay images of what they had done because of the alternate mission his future self had given her. He had to keep himself under tight control around Cameron these days. His mind kept drifting back to the two times they had had sex whenever he saw her and it was distracting and embarrassing having to hide a boner from her, his mother or Derek. He heard her walk into the room with heavy footfalls and he knew she was deliberately making the noise, which wasn't difficult in those boots.

Cameron seemed to wear them everywhere and with everything. He had asked her about them and she would always answer the same way: "They're vintage." Nothing more, just that they were vintage. Personally he thought they were ugly as sin, but they did accentuate the smooth curves of her calves. "I thought you were out resupplying our munitions?" he queried, calling up a web search to add to the cavalier attitude of ignoring her he decided he needed to exude. "I was. I'm done." She answered concisely and he heard the bedsprings creak softly as she settled on the edge of the bed.

"Where are your mother and Derek?" she enquired. "Still out following that lead on the Turk... They had to drive to Vegas and will be back some time tomorrow." He replied, trying to look engrossed in the baseball scores he had pulled up while trying not to think about what they had done the last time she was on his bed and failing. "Google cullilingus." She instructed out of the blue. "What?!" He asked in confused surprise as he swung his seat around to face her and got another surprise. John gaped, feeling his jaw drop. Cameron was leaning back on his bed, her legs spread, calves dangling over the edge wearing nothing but those damn cowboy boots and a faint smile. He coughed, hiding the groan he made as his dick literally sprang to attention and his boxers and jeans were suddenly too small and almost painfully uncomfortable.

He swore he saw her smile widen, although his focus was on other parts of her besides her face. "Part of being with a woman is making sure she enjoys it as much as you do and a way to do that is to go down on her, cullilingus." She explained as if it were the most common sense, logical conclusion in the world. "How? What? How can you... I mean... How would you know... I mean you can't... you don't..." he stammered trying to surreptitiously shift to ease the pressure on his dick. In the end, he simply unbuckled his belt and undid his fly in order to get relief seeing as the naked terminator on his bed meant that propriety and modesty had both gone out the window.

"I have assimilated the necessary data. There are extensive volumes on the subject matter and the Internet was very educational. I have... calibrated my..." she paused for a moment, her head tilting and then straightening before she continued: "functions and operational parameters to adequately simulate the correct... responses." She answered his badly asked question. He frowned at her, he had never seen her hesitate like that before and he felt his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed to wet his dry throat and licked his lips. "You should start by kissing me and then sucking and playing with my breasts like you did in the truck, that was good, before you work your way down." She proposed helpfully as if a defined strategy was the only thing stopping him.

"Was there a hint of excitement in her voice? Did her pale skin seem slightly flushed?" he wondered as he wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his forearm. "Cameron... I don't know about this." He admitted nervously. "It is part of my mission. It is one way a man can be with a woman." She re-iterated. "We can have sex afterwards. I believe it's customary." She suggested, spreading her legs a little further, displaying even more of her pink glistening folds below her little triangle of dark, closely cropped pubes. It wasn't as if he didn't want to do it, the idea intrigued him, but...

John felt like he was being manipulated, but his dick and hormones told him he should be feeling, literally, something else and it... she... Cameron was lying right there in front of him. His dick twitched and throbbed in his boxers and he dried his sweaty palms by running them over the material of his jeans along his thighs. He rose from his seat and pushed his jeans down off his hips and down his thighs until they could drop to the floor and he stepped out of them as he walked towards her.

She shifted slightly to the side to make room for him next to her on the bed. He debated taking off his boxers as well, but figured he could retain better control of himself if he kept them on, for the moment at least. He settled on his side next to her and she took his hand and lightly placed it on her breast, squeezing it, transferring the pressure fro he hand to his and onto her firm globe. He took the hint and began to fondle her warm, tit flesh, feeling the hard nub of her nipple pressing hotly into his palm. He shifted closer to her, moving his hand to caress the side and lower curve of her breast while he flicked, rolled and tweaked it's plump, swollen peak, testing it's elasticity and marveling at it's velvety texture.

John's reluctance faded with her nearness and he lowered his lips to her and she turned and titled her head to accept his kiss, sucking at his lips as he did hers. She opened her mouth under his and the tips of their tongues dueled for a moment before hers retreated and his followed to sinuous wrestle with it. He felt her fingers slide over his neck and then into his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp and his hips humped of their own volition, sliding his dick back and forth over the smooth curve of her hip, separated from her warm skin only by a thin layer of cotton.

Her hand in his hair urged his lips away from hers and downward. He nibbled lightly at her jaw and then let his sucking lips and licking swirling tongue move lower, exploring the strong column of her beck and her throat. With, the heat, her skin felt warm, but cooler than his as she undulated slowly, sinuously with long, drawn out sighs as he continued to fondle her breast. He hadn't noticed it before and it kept his attention for a moment as he sucked and ran his tongue across the pulse at the side of her neck. It matched the heartbeat he could feel under his hand perfectly and he marveled at the sophistication and attention to detail since she had need of neither.

He moved on, dipping his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat before slithering down onto her chest. Cameron's other hand found his when his lips found the upper slope of her breast after a leisurely exploration of her skin. She guided it away from her breast and he released the firm globe reluctantly. Her skin was sumptuously smooth, like satin and completely devoid of hair or blemish. Feeling that, the way her warm skin shivered and reacted to his touch and testing the firm, but pliable musculature of her torso, it was easy to forget that she was a titanium-skeletoned, servo-driven killing machine. "How can a machine smell like sunshine and vanilla?" he wondered. John knew just how dangerous it was to fall for that illusion, but as she guided his hand lower, he closed his eyes and indulged himself.

His lips blindly found her nipple and he nipped lightly at the pert little tube before suckling hungrily at it and as much of her tit flesh he could fit into his mouth while his fingers slit between her silky folds, finding them hot, swollen, open and slickly moist. She let out a soft gasp followed by a low moan as he slid two of his fingers into her and his thumb found the hood of clit and worked it's way down with circling pressure to find the little bundle of nerves or in her case were they sensors that peaked out from it. Her sex flexed and twisted around his digits as he sawed them in and out of her tight confines, her legs shifting wider and then closing on his hand, with smooth, warm pressure before opening again. "Yes... That's good, very good, John." She praised, her fingers lightly caressing his cheek as he suckled at first one teat and then the other feeling her other hand press against the back of his head while she shifted her shoulders to press her flesh into his hungry lips.

His dick twitched and throbbed against her skin through the thin material of his boxers. He groaned, his lips vibrating around her nipple as his ass clenched and he felt first one and then a second and third heavy dollop of lube slip from his jerking member to soak into the cotton. He could feel the sweet tension of his release starting to build, but he felt like he had control of it as he let it take a backseat to studying her reaction as he experimented with the speed, strength, position, motion and rhythm of his lips and fingers on and in her flesh.

He resisted when she started to urge his head down and away from her succulent breast, but she was insistent and he knew, far stronger than him and ruthlessly capable of using that strength to achieve her objectives. So, he reluctantly conceded. Once she seemed satisfied he was doing as she'd instructed, she scooted a little further up the bed and as he trailed his lips down her body, they repositioned themselves so that he ended up between her spread legs as he dipped his tongue into her belly button. She raked the fingers of both her hands through his hair and he felt little tremors go through her taut belly and her breathing stutter just a little. Despite his near-painful erection and all the other erotic stimuli she represented, a small part of him again marveled at the complexity of her programming and Skynet's attention to detail.

The aroma of her arousal hit his nostrils and they flared as he inhaled deeply. The scent that had been tantalizing him before now saturated his senses; making his mouth water and his mind wonder what she would taste like. He paused for a moment, his eyes cataloguing the details of her sex, the neat pink folds and smooth, swollen lips both of which glistened moistly and the little pearl of her clit peeking out of it's hood at the top of her slit. He doesn't have much in the way of comparison, but he thinks her snatch is beautiful. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous once again. "Lick me." Cameron instructed and he raised his eyes from between her legs to look up her nubile body to find her dark eyes staring at him intently over her breasts, her Cupid's bow lips slightly parted. John swore he could see curious, eager, anticipation in her eyes.

He lowered his head and did as she asked, extending his tongue and hesitantly running it slowly up the length of her slit. She draws in a sharp breath and her hips rise slightly, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her folds surround his tongue and he collects the dew off her petals. He hadn't quite known what to expect, but her flavor is fresh, sweet and exciting. He goes through a dozen different comparisons, but none quite fit, but he does know that he likes it. John started lapping at her, running his tongue along her length, collecting every drop of her ambrosia. "That's excellent, John. Very... good." She groaned wriggling his tongue deeper in search of the source of the delicious, exquisite taste. Her guidance is subtle, but insistent as she adjusts his pace. She gasps as he dips into her entrance and her nectar floods onto his tongue.

Cameron starts to give him breathy, yet concise and precise instructions as she shudders under his lips and against his tongue. He follows them, that was what he and she were there for after all. He spreads her with his fingers to lick more directly at her sex and she moans her response, her smooth thighs press against his shoulders as her hips undulated. She let's out a little cry when he diddles her clit with his tongue, flicking the little pebble back and forth before rolling it and then sucking it and the hood behind it into his mouth. She cries out and then pants each time he sucks at her flesh or scrapes his teeth lightly along the ridge of her hood. John remembers her instructions, but he explores and experiments, finding his own way while noting her responses. What makes her groan; what makes her moan; what makes her hips jerk or rock; what makes her cry out; what makes her gasp. His fingers delve into her while his mouth attends to her clit.

Her reactions excite him even more than her scent and taste. He doesn't care that they are simulated or programmed or that she's a machine. It gives him a strange sense of power, not over her, but over himself. He feels a sense of pride and satisfaction that has nothing to do with his vaunted destiny as something he has accomplished on his own, simply as John Connor. His dick throbs to the beat of his heart hammering against his ribcage, bobbing against his stomach and beating against the cotton prison of his boxers. His need is just barely superseded by his determination and enjoyment of what he is doing to Cameron. John feels her tremors grow to a long, heavy shudder, her legs pressing hard against his shoulders and sides, her ass rising off the bed as she presses herself into his face. Her cry has a different timbre to it and it becomes a wail before ending in her panting heavily. The dark curls of her pubes tickle his nose and her channel clutches at his fingers while her juices flood around them.

He continues to lick and suck at her, collecting her sweet, slippery cream, even as it spills onto his cheeks and chin. She sort of whimpers and he is a little surprised when she none to gently pulls his head back and his mouth off her. "That's enough! A woman is very sensitive after her climax. Pleasure can easily become pain at that point. It varies with every woman. You should be aware of that." She explained her voice going from hoarse and frantic to calm and steady with such rapidity it makes him blink.

John collected her dew off his face with his fingers and then licks them clean and despite her warning he can't help running his fingers through her folds to get more. "Do all woman taste like you?" he asked curiously, temporarily sated, although his cock pulses with anticipation for what is to follow. She shifts up to recline on her elbows, her hair flowing out behind her head, chocolate against the white linen cover of the pillow behind her. "Insufficient data, but factoring in human female genetic, physiological, ethnic and dietary variations, it is unlikely." She responded, her clinical answer once again managing to jar his image of her. He wants to ask her how she tastes the way she does, but figures he most likely wouldn't understand the answer and the mystery would serve as a better memory.

"We can have sex now." Cameron offered, Leaning further forward and reaching for the waistband of his boxers, having to stretching it clear of his erection before pushing them off his hips. John drew in a heavy breath, air hissing through his teeth as her warm hand wraps around the base of his cock. She tugs him towards her and he hardly needs her urging as he shuffles forward. He feels her heat on his cock, just as he had against his face and then the tip of his cock is sliding through her slippery folds and she guides him to her entrance. John tries to focus as the tension inside him that he had been successfully ignoring spikes, tensing his butt and tightening his balls.

Her thighs are silky as she draws up her legs and they slide along his sides, her toes tickle the outside of his thighs. He grabs her legs and spreads them, maneuvering them past and then over his shoulders, her calves and heels rest on his back. He thrust forward, and at the same time let his weight shift forward and down, pressing her thighs back and her knees toward her chest. He doesn't even attempt to stifle the groaned cry as he slides into her tight embrace. Her sex grips him like a velvet covered vice, which he forces apart in order to forges a tingling, sparking trail of delectable friction to her snug, molten core.

His balls are already boiling, his control hanging by a thread. Her hands reach for his face and he doesn't know if his control will withstand her touch, so he intercepts them, grasping her wrists. Her hands don't stop and she resists him as he pushes against him. The struggle shifts him inside her and he grits his teeth as the shiver of pleasure the simple shift causes snakes up his spine. He pushes harder and suddenly her resistance vanishes and he presses her wrists and arms onto the bed.

John is breathing heavily through his nose, his face poised over hers, her eyes half-lidded and partially hiding her usually intense and unwavering stare. "Fuck me, John. That is another way a man can be with a woman too." She instructs in a soft, sultry voice that curls into his ears and bypasses his mind, speaking directly to his animal brain and causes his body to move. With, a grunt, he starts to pound into her. His strokes are short, fast and powerful. He sees her pearly white teeth dig into her lower lip so hard, he is surprised she doesn't draw blood as her back arches, pressing her torso up to meet his. His flesh collides with hers in a staccato beat so fast the shockwave of one-collision merges with the next. The sound merges with the rhythmic creak of the bed and their cries and his fingers slide from her wrists to link and tangle with hers.

He doesn't strive for control, but simply strains for release and it isn't long in coming. John feels his hips stutter with fast rapid-fire thrusts stabbing at her sweet core, grinding against her trying to get deeper although it is physically impossible. He throws his head back and bellows with the white hot surge of pleasure that blazes through him like a napalm inferno that tenses his back into a taut bow, his vertebrae grinding together with the tension while his hips continued to buck. His climax seared across his nerves, overloading his senses and causing his world to shrink to the single pinpoint of overwhelming sensation. His chest was on fire and his heart feels like it will burst as his dick convulses and he pumps his seed into Cameron in heavy, draining spurts. His cry becomes a series of grunts connected to each of those spurts, her sex squeezing against him as he expands before each one.

One moment John felt like the epitome of strength and power, a taut, vibrating tower of masculinity, the next he felt dazed and didn't have the strength of a newborn kitten. He collapsed on top of Cameron, panting, desperate for breath, twitching as stray electric charges of ecstasy tweaked overloaded nerves and made muscles misfire. His eyes were closed, his face buried in her hair above her shoulder, it's almond and honey scent mixing with the musk of sex. He felt her fingers go slack, but it took him a moment to realize the significance and do the same.

John shivered as a sudden, cool breeze rushed in through his open window, flapping the curtains and chilling the sweat on his skin. The spell seemed to break as with impossible ease Cameron lifted him off her and rolling set him on the bed. He groaned as he slid free of her, but could hardly do more than that as his body still seemed reluctant to take orders from him. She rose and he saw her check between her legs. Her fingers glistened with their combined juices when she held them up for curious inspection before promptly popping them into her mouth and sucking them clean. He was about to ask her if she was okay and to apologize if he had hurt her when the absurdity of that particular idea struck him. She bent over at the waist and retrieved her clothes, giving him a perfect view of her shapely ass and her swollen sex. He could see some of his essence leaking from her and despite everything his dick, limp and still wet, twitched.

With, her clothes in her arms she turned to face him. "You should hydrate once your breathing and heart rate return to normal." She suggested. "Your performance was... " She tilted her head slightly, "well beyond satisfactory." She informed him before turning and leaving his room. John didn't know what to say to that and simply let his eyes follow the sway of her hips until she was out of view and the sound of her boots receded into the darkness beyond his door.

TO BE CONTINUED