Lost But Not Little Boys

Dr. Carson Beckett had always treated women with the uttermost care and delicacy. Even during those rare and extraordinary times when he was in an intimate relationship, he let his lucky lady set a slow, polite pace. That being said, Laura Cadman was not exactly his type, but his usual preferences did not stop him from allowing himself to be slammed against Laura’s bedroom wall.



The comparatively chaste kiss in the corridor had evolved into a sloppy, frantic, teeth jarring, saliva swapping, tongue sex, and Laura was wasting no time in removing the good doctor’s pants for a thorough exam.



Carson’s heart was racing. He had never in his life moved so quickly with a woman. He tore his face from Laura’s for a breath, and she moved her suckerfish lips to his neck and continued there. “Wait,” a breathe, “Lovey, this is,” a breath, “a bit fast for the likes of me.”



“What do you mean?” she asked, somehow without breaking contact with his stubbled neck.



Feeling a slight chill on his thighs, and noticing that his trousers were around his ankles, he explained, “Well, Aye know that ya really want--"



His train of thought was distracted by a hand once again finding its way south. “Aye - Aye mean we both want to do this very, oh, very, very much, but dinna ya think that maybe we could be moving a bit hastily?”



Laura’s hands moved to strategic points on Carson’s chest before tearing her lips away to look him in the eyes.



Carson was surprised to see her pupils were much larger and her lips far fuller than the last time he had seen them in the corridor.



“Listen, Carson. I want you. Now. Let’s not waste a single second of our time together.” How could she look him straight in the eye and say that?



Carson considered her reasons for several moments. All was quiet with the exception of their heavy breathing. He took tow fingers to brush the red hair from her face.



“What do you want to do, Carson?”



“Aye want make sweet, sweet love to you.” Did he really just say that?



Laura responded by taking Carson’s rough face in both of her hands, and she kissed him deeply. Carson listened to the little demon on his left shoulder and let his hands wonder to Laura’s impossibly firm buttocks, and he squeezed.



She moaned, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t killed him for the bold move.



Laura pulled away for a brief moment to remove her white blouse in a way that only women can do and grasped the bottom ends with her opposite hands and pulled it over her head.



Carson’s hands roamed her bare back and stopped at the clasps of her bra. He held his breath as he unhooked it, and pulled the straps from her shoulders.



Before he knew it, his own shirt was on the floor and Laura’s breasts were flush against his chest. His hands moved up, curiously, and found their way to her bare breasts. “Mmm, Carson.” Her voice was husky and deep, and Carson’s knees almost gave out.



“Be . . . bed,” he managed to mumble.



Laura slipped her nimble little hands under his briefs and pulled him to her bed. Neither one realizing that Carson’s trousers were still around his ankles, he stumbled and fell on top of her just as they made it to the bed. Carson gasped, and Laura let out a short giggle.



This unexpected blunder made Carson hesitate. “Wait, Laura. Aye don’t want this to change our relationship for the worst. Aye dinna want this to be something that we will regret later.”



For some godforsaken, sadistic reason, Carson’s panicky Scottish voice made Laura shiver, and her blood rush to her loins. She considered explaining to him that they were living in a galaxy far, far away from the safeties of home. That they were risking a suicide mission every time that they stepped through the Stargate, but instead, she pulled his head close to hers and pressed her lips against his right ear. “Carson, shut up, and 'make sweet, sweet love' to me.”



At that exact moment, Carson’s preferences changed from slow, safe, and predictable mortal women, to the sex goddess, Laura Cadman. “Well, when you put it like that . . . “ He never finished his sentence because his lips went straight to Laura’s right earlobe, sucking all the way down from her neck to her collar bone to her breast . . .



Oh, God!



To her nipple, to (well, he stayed there for a few delectable moments), down her stomach, and to her belly button where he made a number of suggestive moves with his tongue. All the while, he grasped the still clothed thighs that were squeezed possessively around his abdomen. The friction at their hips was almost hot enough to ignite a fire, and Carson couldn’t help but thrust his own clothed pelvis against hers. He moved his head, which was also being possessively squeezed by her shaking hands, to look up at her.



Her head was thrown back on the covers, framed by an orange halo of hair, and her mouth held a breathy moan.



He couldn’t hold back a moan of his own, and he franticly kicked off the irritating trousers at his feet. His shaky fingers found their way to Laura’s own uniform bottoms and undid the button and zipper.



Her legs untangled themselves from his waist, and she lifted herself up to allow Carson to remove her pants, panties, and socks with ease. In all of his years as a doctor, he had never seen such a perfect specimen of the female body, or any body for that matter.



He fell against her naked form, dizzy with desire. Breathing hard, he thrust against her and sucked at her neck, instinctively. He was spurred on further by her moans.



“Carson, Carson, wait! Your briefs.”



He couldn’t even put the right syllables together to apologize. He felt so silly and embarrassed.



They both pushed his briefs down until he could get the damned things off entirely. They kissed, both lips desperate for contact, and Laura’s gasp at Carson’s happy left hand at her inner thighs allowed his tongue to posses her mouth as a sign of his ultimate goal.



The animalistic sound that made its way out of her swollen lips almost undid Carson. As his fingers spread her labia and found her moist clitoris, she made and undeniably genuine groan of pleasure. There was almost not enough blood in Carson’s head to allow him to continue with his plan. He was also please to note that the position of power was squarely laid upon his own nimble, surgeon’s fingers if not quite yet himself.



There she was, laid out like a platter of pleasure for him, and he literally had his finger on her button. She writhed and moaned and pleaded with him. “OH, God, Carson! Don’t stop! Whatever you do, don’t stop! Please! Oh, yes!”



He switched his fingers for his thumb. Another half moan, half shriek as more pressure was applied against her over sensitized nub of ecstasy. Up and down, around, circle, pressure, tease, pressure. “Ahh, Carson, please don’t stop. Not yet! Yes, harder, ahh!”



He felt her nails sink into his shoulder. “I’m almost there! Don’t stop! Ahhh! Ahh! YES! AHHHhhh, CARSON!” Carson’s manly, stubbled mouth at her right nipple and the exquisite pleasure that his thumb was producing made Laura’s back arch into his mouth and onto his brilliant thumb. Hey eyes were hooded, her mouth agape and gasping, and her muscles contracted over and over and over and over again. Carson’s thumb never ceased it assault, and the combination of the suction at her nipple and pressure on her clitoris produced shockingly intoxicating pleasure in her loins until she finally fell in a boneless heap upon the bed.