Okay, I don't watch CSI: NY. I've seen like twelve eps in total, so if my Danny and Lindsay are OOC well, um, yeah...
Here is a list of words that make this story M rated: Pussycat, body, touching, breasts, nipple, pump, stroke, wet and shit. I haven't used anything harsher than that, the place in which they are put might make you tingle but I don't feel this is too risque. Oh and there is masterbation. So, if that bothers you, don't read but if it doesn't then by all means R&R.
Cat is in the Garden.
Danny Messer flopped ungracefully into his over stuffed easy chair, beer in one hand and the television remote in the other.
He'd lived in the city for a very long time, seen a lot of things and heard some crazy stuff and today was nothing different. He worked a case where a young woman would steel business cards, called the men and started having phone sex with them.
He chuckled when fellow CSI, Lindsay Monroe 'Montana' just to piss her off, asked where the attraction was in that sort of thing. He told her it was anonymity that made it hot. He didn't think she saw the allure or understood it. He chuckled about it now as he watched the evening news. Their case was briefly mentioned.
Danny took a long pull of his beer and tossed the remote on the table next to his chair and was just settling in when his phone rang.
Always on guard he checked the caller ID and frowned when it read UNKNOWN CALLER. Careful, he picked up the handset.
"Messer residence." He waited patiently for the caller's greeting then a somewhat familiar voice spoke, low and sultry.
"Your cat is in my garden." Danny almost chocked on his beer, the joke was not lost on him.
"Ah, Montana—" he started but she cut him off.
"Your cat is in my garden." She repeated and he decided to go along with her just to see where and how long this was going to go.
"I'm sorry, I don't have a cat. I always thought about getting one." He smiled and sipped his beer.
"You should get one. Good company, nice and – soft - to pet." She emphasized the T in soft and Danny felt a bit of heat rising under his shirt collar.
"Petting huh? Heard that was a stress reliever." He replied trying to keep his voice from catching.
"Hmmm, yes. Petting a pussycat can relieve a lot of stress. You know what else can relieve stress?" her voice did things to him that he loved. It made him giddy and aroused as hell. He couldn't have answered her if he wanted to. "Touching yourself." The T came out hard and she whispered the second word.
Danny shifted in his chair, tugging at his pants that were becoming too tight. "You know what's even better?" she continued.
"Ung ah." Was all he could get out. He cursed himself under his breath for letting her get to him with just simple words. She wasn't even using 'dirty' words…. yet.
She chuckled low, making him tingle.
"Touching someone else." Again she emphasized the T and whispered the rest. "Would you like to touch me?" she asked. He heard fabric rustling on the other end and almost dropped the phone. She wasn't! Was she?
"Uh." He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composer. "Look, Lindsay this was fun so far but I don't think…" he trailed off.
"Who's Lindsay?" she purred. "Would you like to touch me?" she asked again this time with more urgency. He knew it was her, even though she wasn't going to say so. He was unsure if he really wanted to go through with it.
"I don't know." He answered.
"I want to touch you." She offered. "I want to run my hands all over your body. I want you to touch me." Again he heard the fabric rustling and she inhaled. Deep.
Danny gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white under the pressure.
"I want your hands on my breasts." He groaned and shifted his pants. The hand holding the phone was sweating.
"Come on, Montana." He pleaded but she ignored it.
"Where are your hands? Where do you want them to be?" she was breathing heavy and he was sure she was actually touching herself.
"Grrahh." He growled. There was no humor left in this situation. He wanted to do it. He just didn't know what would happen tomorrow when he saw her face to face. "I-I want them on you." He shook his head hoping he wasn't doing the wrong thing.
"Mmmm, yeah. Where on me? What-are-you-touching?" she murmured and he pictured her running a hand over silky white flesh and he chewed his bottom lip. Okay, Montana. You wanna play? Here we go. He thought to himself.
"My hands are on your breasts. Index fingers circling each nipple until they tighten." He heard her inhale shakily. He shifted again. "My mouth latches on one nipple as I play with the other." She moaned. "Switching sides with my mouth, my free hand slides down your stomach. I circle your belly button once them dip my hand between your legs." His voice dropped down to a growl, his fingers itched to do what he was saying and her panting was making him crazy. "I run a finger over you, testing how ready you are. I slip a finger in, then another." He sucked in some air, held it and listened for a sound from her.
There was fabric rustling again, a warm sucking sound and a throaty moan. "Are you hot? Wet?" he asked, needing to hear some feedback.
"Oh, yesssss." Her voice hitched and she hissed the 'yes'.
"I kiss your neck, sucking while I pull my fingers in and out; in, out." He drawled. She moaned and panted. "Where are your hands?" he asked, he chewed his bottom lip, excited about what she was going to say.
"My hands are sliding over your chest. Flicking a nipple. Tugging gently on your chest hair." She paused, her breath hitching. He wondered how she knew he had chest hair, he couldn't remember her ever being in the locker room while he was changing…but his mind switched gears when he heard a keening noise came through the handset. "I lick a nipple." She was breathing hard. "My hands dip down, tug your boxers off, freeing you. I take you in my hand, stroking up and down."
Giving in Danny unzipped his pants and pulled them down a bit with one hand. The boxers went next. Inhaling he gripped himself and waited for further instruction.
"I pump you, it's hard, big and thick." She groaned. "Delicious. I lick the length. Under the ridge." He continued to stroke himself loving to hear the words. He could picture her doing exactly what she was saying in her deep throaty voice. "The tip of my tongue slides into the slit at the top of the head. Does it feel good?" she asked, her voice just above her breath.
Danny stopped mid stroke.
"Yes. Oh, yeah." He groaned. She was a hot little thing.
"I suck you in my mouth, deep. Once, twice. Are you close?" More deep breathing. Another rustling of material.
"Getting there. Where are you? What are you wearing?" he asked, his hand stilled.
"I'm at home, in my bed, I'm not wearing anything and it's getting warm in here." She answered, another movement. "I've finished sucking and I'm climbing up your body." He resumed stroking. "I'm poised over you, I'm so wet. You slowly slid into my body. I'm tight." She whimpered and he held tighter. "It feels so good. You feel so good. So deep in me. Ahhh."
He knew there was no way she was faking it. He was sweating; she was turning him on so much. He was even closer to the edge.
"I'm riding you hard. And it feels great. Oh, I'm close." He pumped harder. He groaned. "Please, harder Danny, harder."
"Oh, yeah. I'm pushin' harder. Harder!" she was moaning louder on the phone, he could hear how close she was and he wasn't that far away either.
"So good, Danny. I'm-all-most-there!" it sounded like she dropped the phone and she was moaning and it was loud and made his own release come hard and sudden.
"Shit!" he almost dropped the phone too.
There was no sound from the other end of the connection and he wondered if she hung up. Finally he heard her quick breath.
"That was great Danny." She said and her voice sounded like she'd run miles.
"Holy shit, Lindsay." He was just as breathy. She chuckled on the other end.
"Who's Lindsay?" then all he heard was dial tone.
He dropped the handset in its cradle and rubbed his face with his clean hand.
"Jesus, Montana. That was hot." He said to himself. He got cleaned up and went about his evening.
All day she pretended that nothing happened. She gave no indication, not a sideways glance or blushing when he outright stared at her. He didn't know why she was doing it but he decided he'd leave it.
At home again he grabbed a beer from his fridge and turned on the news, flopped down into his favorite chair and tried not to think about yesterdays phone call.
The trill of the phone ringing interrupted his thoughts.
"Messer residence." He said to the UNKOWN CALLER.
"Your cat is in my garden."
He grinned and settled in his chair.
"Oh, yeah? I was wondering where that darn cat went."