The Gift That Keeps On Giving

TITLE: The Gift That Keeps On Giving AUTHOR: Midknight CHAPTER: 3 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 THREE John leaned forward, placing first his hands and then resting his forehead on the cool tiles under the showerhead as he rolled his shoulders against the hot needles of water pouring from it. He winced slightly as he cracked his neck and then sighed as he forced himself to relax and let the hot water try and sooth the tension from his muscles as it sheeted down his body. He'd had another argument with his mother about wanting to have a life and not only a destiny and that the two were not mutually exclusive, but were in fact, complimentary. His argument hadn't been precisely logical or rational, but it was how he felt. He understood what at stake, but sometimes it just felt unfair and like she was suffocating him with all her undue attention. He was supposed to be this great leader someday, but she never seemed to let him make any decisions of his own. It wasn't precisely true, but perception was what defined ones reality. It had ended with Derek having to send them off to neutral corners. He snorted. "Who would have thought that Derek would be the level-headed mediator?" he thought, angling his head back into the stray for a few moments to soak his face before spitting out the water he had collected in his mouth and resuming his previous position, closing his eyes. He yelped and nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft, smooth hand slid up his back. "Jesus Fucking Christ, Cameron! You nearly scared me to death sneaking up on me like that." he exclaimed as he turned to find her standing naked behind him, the water starting to soak, darken and smooth her curly brown hair as well as make her lush feminine curves glisten wetly. She tilted her head slightly. "I'm... Sorry. I did not intend to distress you any further." She apologized, raking her hand through her now soaked hair clearing stray locks out of her face. "I wasn't distressed... Not until you nearly scared my heart into stopping." He responded sharply. Cameron's head tilted further to the side and a frown appeared on her usually smooth forehead. It was a pantomime of confusion, the expression was there, but it never reached her eyes, nothing did, nothing could, she was after all, just a machine. He had to keep reminding himself of that fact, especially after recent events and now specifically as a slender fingered, female hand reached out and lightly rested on his chest causing his dick to twitch to attention. "The argument with Sarah elevated your blood pressure, heart rate and respiration, increased your adrenaline and hormone levels and core temperature. This is consistent with distress." She stated, disputing his response. "Get out, Cameron. If my mother found you in here..." He stated wearily, turning away from her and her touch and back into the spray, simply not in the mood for dealing with the Terminator even if his body had other ideas. "You're angry." She stated. "Nothing gets passed you." He mumbled. "Just leave, Cameron." He rephrased, but unsurprisingly her hands slid onto his shoulders instead. John want to shrug them off, but she started to massage him slowly, firmly, working the tension out of his muscles. It felt good. "Your mother left. She was distressed too. Derek went with her." she informed him succinctly. She must have shifted closer, because he felt her breasts flatten against his back and mould against his buttocks. Despite the heat of the water, her body and the steam that rose around him, he shivered. "Would you like to fuck me, John? Men and woman occasionally fuck." She offered in the same tone as if she were offering to wash his back. His dick lurched, slapping against his belly at the idea. "I said, Get out!" he ground out angrily, clenching and flexing his fists. He knew she hadn't moved, he could still feel her behind him even though she was no longer touching him. He spun around to find her way closer than expected, her invasion of his space causing his anger to flare. John grabbed her shoulders, fully intending to bodily toss her out of the shower stall. Touching her was a mistake. The feel of her wet, warm, firm skin under his hands, her lithe female form filling his vision and her big brown eyes looking into his expectantly transformed his anger into something different, but no less primal. Her words echoed in his head: "Would you like to fuck me?" He had started to turn her to push her out of the shower and abruptly changed the direction until her back came up against the tiles on the wall furthest away from the showerhead before he crushed his lips to hers. He felt strong and powerful, somehow forgetting the fact that she could put him through the wall as easily as he had pushed her against it. He probed hungrily and insistently between them with his tongue until she opened her mouth and his tongue could invade it and duel fiercely with hers. Her eyes remained disturbingly unaffected and unwaveringly locked with his as he drew his hand up over her ribcage and roughly mauled her breast while his other hand wormed into the wet hair at the side of her head. He nipped and sucked at her lips, squeezing her breasts and pinching and stretching her nipple as he manhandled her breasts. His dick throbbed in heavy surges, bobbing, almost straining to reach the tight warm haven of her snatch. Her unwavering stare bothered him, somehow making him feel guilty, even although it was taking her suggestion, but not guilty enough to stop. He spun her around and gripping her waist pulled her slightly backward until she was leaning forward. John could feel his chest heaving and focused on getting his breathing under control. The spray from the shower hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, the water sheeting down his back, butt and legs in a liquid caress. John slid his hands from her waist and over the lush curve of her hips onto the firm globes of her ass. He tested that firmness with flexing fingers, spreading her cheeks as he fondled them harder than he ever had before. He felt the rosebud pucker of her asshole twitch, drawing his attention to it as he accidentally brushed his thumb over it. He frowned. He knew she had total control of her body, the reaction would have been programmed. "Why?" he mused, an idea flashing into his mind that made his dick surge with a new pulse of arousal. "Could he? Was that what she meant by him fucking her?" he wondered, his fingers kneading the firm flesh of her ass. He wouldn't, not that. That was for perverts. He'd never even thought of it until right then, but now the idea was bouncing around in his head. He grasped his dick and guided its head through her folds until he found her entrance to take away the temptation to stick it elsewhere. Cameron rocked back and his dickhead wedged into the tight ring of entrance, the muscles stretching and at the same time resisting. She craned her head around to look at him over her shoulder. "Stick it in me, John. Fuck me good." She instructed. It sounded like dialogue from a bad porno and was made even worse by her overly sultry tone, but her eyes, her eyes surprised him. He could see desire in them, a spark he had not seen before, or one he had only imagined. He knew that desire wasn't for him. "Was it for the furthering of her mission or did she want to experience this? Did she want to know what it felt like to be fucked? Could she feel in those terms?" he wondered. She kept bringing up more questions in his head, a head that was already filled by so many questions and doubts. She added to his irritation and frustration and he felt his anger flare again. "Fuck me." She said again, but it wasn't a mimicked sultry invitation this time, but a command, delivered as only Cameron could. His hips slammed forward and he pulled her back onto him, hard, his body reacting to her command before his consciousness could fully process it. John heard her cry out as he lanced into her with unchecked force, blazing a fiery trail of sweet friction along his length as he filled and stretched her tight, resisting flesh. He had seen her take a full clip from an M16 with out a sound. Her cry was a part of her programming, part of the 'necessary information' she had assimilated, but it didn't matter. He felt just a twinge of shame, he liked hearing that sound come from her in reaction to him. John found a focus and an outlet for the anger that seemed to be simmering inside him almost all the time these days. He grasped her hips and began to move her as he saw fit, drawing back and plunging back into her. He could feel the shockwaves that ran through her each time his pelvis slammed into her ass with the sound of wet flesh meeting and a panted cry from her. Her snatch was a tight, molten vice around his dick as he drove it in and out of her with long hard strokes, a flexing, squeezing delightful caress that made his buttocks clench. He pounded into her faster, feeling the delicious tension in his balls growing with each journey into her clutching core. It felt good to let loose, to release the hold he imposed on himself. He surrendered to the sensation, enjoying the pleasure, not caring how he was getting it. He channeled his anger, his frustrations, his doubts and fears into the simple act of driving himself into her as hard and deep as he could, transforming all those feelings into the energy that fueled his thrusting hips. A little voice, far back in the recesses of his mind, told him what he was doing was wrong. One didn't do this to a woman, a friend, and a comrade. Cameron was all those things, and also an indestructible killing machine. That little voice whispered insidiously that it was wrong on so many, many levels for so many, many reasons. But, he squashed that voice, drowned it out with the sound of his blood pounding in his ears with the song of pleasure and the symphony of delightfully sparking nerves. He began to grunt with the strain of each stroke, his jaw clenching as his balls started to boil. Cameron was, by no means, passive. He no longer needed to guide her as she met his thrusts with ones of her own, her hips rolling in tight little circles so that he was screwing into her. he felt slippery, liquid heat flood around him and it encouraged him, urged him to thrust harder and deeper. He started to pant, his chest burning as his heart hammered against this ribs. He could feel perspiration popup on his skin and mix with the water from shower. His strokes became shorter, but even faster and harder. He slid one hand up her back and hooked it over her shoulder while he moved the other one over her ribcage and clutched the firm globe of her breast. She moaned and cried out breathily as he ground into her and roughly massaged her breast, pulling, pinching and stretching the hard nub of her nipple. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the inevitable as he slammed into her one more time, thrusting from the balls of his feet. He failed joyously as he through his head back and bellowed his release, his spine locking into her quivering, taut bow, his hips jerking and humping against her ass as he emptied his balls into her in spurt after pleasurable spurt. Her tight flesh clenched at him as he expanded with each spurt. Her flesh gave and then firmed as his fingers tensed and dug into her shoulder and breast. Cameron screamed, a short, anguished, yet feral sound that tore into the blissful high of his climax John tilted his head forward, blinking to focus, his chest behaving as he panted for air. He groaned as her snatch clenched and twisted on his climax sensitive member before rippling with a fresh torrent of moist heat. He heard a popping, cracking noise and saw cracks radiate from her splayed fingers as they dug into the tiles. He felt her shudder as she whimpered and panted. John released her and stumbled back, pulling out of her as the spray drenched his head. "What the fuck?" he breathed as Cameron sank to her knees. "It all had to be programmed somehow, but how? Had she just climaxed?" he wondered in shock as he watched the water splash onto Cameron's slightly bowed and shaking back and buttocks. "Cameron?" he queried in concern, licking his lips nervously when she didn't reply. He started to reach out to her when she suddenly stood and spun around to face him. She took a step forward and he backed up unconsciously. She turned her face up to the spray and after a few moments she stepped back again and wiped the water from her face and slicked her hair back in the same movement. "You... fuck... well, John. We may have to attempt other positions to verify my analysis. You might want to finish your shower quickly, though. By, my calculations, there is only approximately four minutes of hot water left." She informed him and then promptly opened the shower stall and stepped out. The door swung shut behind her and he watched as her figure became blurred and distorted by the frosted glass. His hand was still half raised and he looked at it as if he didn't know why. He stepped back under the spray and took heed of her warning, showering quickly. He couldn't believe he had just done that, but what bothered him, almost disturbed him more was Cameron's reaction. Cameron was becoming more and more of a contradiction. He could not reconcile what he knew she was with what he had seen. There had been glimpses before, but he had convinced himself they were all in his mind, but now he wasn't so sure. He shut off the shower, just as it started to run cold and grabbed a towel before stepping out of the stall. He dried his hair and then wrapped the towel around his waist, the enigma of Cameron rattling around in his head. He swiped his forearm across the mirror, clearing a swathe of its reflective surface so that he was looking into his own eyes. "What are you doing, John?" he asked himself. A dark, nefarious thought had slipped into his mind. He only had her say so that his older self had given her this mission of sexual education and exploration. He searched his eyes for an answer. He should just stop what they were doing. Her mission could go unfulfilled without any detriment to their mission to destroy Skynet before it came to fruition. It was the safest course of action, but even as he stood there, looking into the depths of his dark eyes, he could still not keep the image of her lithe, supple, naked body from intruding on his deliberations and causing his limp dick to stir against the fluffy material of the towel. He continued to stare until the mirror misted over once more. TO BE CONTINUED