Title: Lawn Service
Pairing: Grissom, Sara
Rating: M. Definitely, very M.
Beta: CSIGeekFan. As usual, she provided me with invaluable advice and lots of help in slapping this piece into shape. Without her my punctuation would make you all wince. Thanks, dear.
Prompt: Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
A/N: This isn't at all what I had planned for the Geekfiction Summer Blockbuster ficathon but as my GSR muse has been quite unreliable of late, I fell back on this nearly completed piece of smut. So, instead of a crime drama you get a porno flick. It's probably all for the best, since this might be able to live up to those blockbuster aspirations.
Sara was in the back yard mowing the lawn, and even though it was only seven thirty in the morning it was already hot. Sometimes she wondered if moving to Las Vegas to be with Gil Grissom had been such a good idea. The heat of the sun on her bare shoulders did feel good, though, even if she was sweating like pig.
Arriving home, Grissom quietly opened the sliding glass door and watched her from the cool, dark interior of the house. He'd tried to talk her out of buying a push mower - a yard service would've been so much easier, but she'd argued that the old-fashioned mower was better for the environment, better for her health, and did a better job on the lawn. Watching her now, he was glad that she's held her ground.
She had her hair up in a loose ponytail and she was wearing a light colored tank top with a very skimpy pair of shorts. Both garments, damp with perspiration, clung to her body. For some reason he always found a sweaty Sara arousing. He loved the smell of her at the end of the day, the slight scents of musk and sweat combining into an erotic perfume. Even now, watching her push the mower back and forth across the small patch of lawn, he could feel sexual desire prodding him as his cock began to twitch.
Her skin was literally glowing; arms and legs covered in a patina of perspiration and Grissom could see a drop of sweat trickle down her throat to disappear between her breasts. The almost uncontrollable urge to lick that sweat off her skin had him stepping out into the bright morning sunlight.
When she got to the far side of the lawn and made the turn with the mower, she saw him on the patio. He sat on a lawn chair to unbutton his shirt and take off his shoes and socks.
"Hey, Gris. You're home early. What's up?" she asked, as he stood and crossed the newly mown lawn in his bare feet, his silk shirt hanging open at the front. Eyeing his bare chest, Sara felt a little flutter of desire low in her belly.
"I've got court this afternoon, so I thought I'd knock off a little early and get some rest." Grissom said as he stopped in front of her and leaned forward to capture her mouth in a searing kiss.
Taking a shocked step back, she blurted out, "Gris! I'm all sweaty and smelly."
Capturing her arms, he pulled her back against his chest, kissing her again before breaking his lips away to murmur, "No, Sara, you smell sexy." Grabbing her hips he rubbed his now tumescent cock against her. "Very sexy."
"Jesus, Grissom. Has someone been spiking your Wheaties with vitamin E, or what?" she asked as she tried to take a step back.
Wrapping an arm around her waist so she couldn't escape, Grissom slipped a hand up under her top and grasped one of her breasts. Sara halfheartedly struggled to break away until he ran his tongue up the side of her neck, stopping at an earlobe, which he flicked.
"Gil…What about the neighbors?" she whispered uneasily as she twisted her head to allow him easier access to that particular erogenous zone, a personal favorite of hers.
"Hmmm?…Neighbors? Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Grissom smirked at his poor Clark Gable impression. "They'd have to be peeking over the fence to see us, anyway." As he said this, Grissom worked his way around to stand behind her, where he began nibbling at the nape of her sweat-dampened neck.
"God…Gil. You're not playing fair." Sara realized he was using every trick he had in his arsenal, pushing every one of her sexual buttons. Standing behind her, he was grinding his magnificent hard-on into her ass. He had one hand under her shirt, alternately tweaking first one nipple and then the other, while his other hand was on her belly, fingers sliding slowly towards the elastic waistband of her shorts. And while he stood pressing himself against her back, nibbling her neck and earlobes, he was talking dirty to her. Very dirty.
He didn't indulge this particular kink very often, and Sara had noticed that he only did it when he was behind her, not looking her in the face. She knew there must be some deep-seated reason for this, but she didn't really care since it made her hotter than hell when it happened.
As he whispered about all the things he'd like to do, he slid his hand down under her shorts and through her thick, curly pubic hair, slowly slipping a finger between the lips of her labia to feel the silky wetness.
When she groaned, "Oh yeah, babe," he thrust a finger deeply into her. She pushed her ass back into him, rubbing against his erection. Grinning, he began to work his finger in and out, fucking her with it.
Grissom loved to get Sara so aroused that she abandoned her usual reserve. He'd been surprised to find, when they had finally become lovers, that she was conservative in the bedroom. Granted, he'd never been any great Lothario, but that was mainly due to the fact that he'd never spent enough time with any one lover to learn the best ways to please her.
But with Sara it had been different. He'd been able to take the time to experiment with her body, cataloguing the results until he knew her sexual responses nearly as well as he knew his own. When they'd moved in with one another, they'd started to slowly expand their sexual horizons together.
Now, he could tell by the way the breath caught in her throat, the way she thrust her hips against his palm, that she was very close to orgasm.
Sucking on her earlobe, he nipped it lightly and she groaned. He nestled his erection between the cheeks of her ass, rocking his hips to dry-hump her and she muttered, "ohfuckthatssogood." When he pinched her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, she threw her head back; he could see she was biting her lower lip.
All the while he was finger-fucking her. Slowly at first, and then faster and more deeply, adding a second finger when her groans became louder, more strident. He knew precisely what he was going to do next and was only waiting for her signal.
When she turned her head towards him, whispering hoarsely, "Please, Gil, make me come," he knew it was time. As he started to rub her clit with his thumb, he curved the finger that was buried inside her, finding her g-spot. He knew just how hard to rub, and exactly what motion was best for her. Soon she was bucking her hips - a low, throaty moan escaping her parted lips.
When she started to spasm around his fingers, Grissom had to support her weight. He kept rubbing her clit, more gently now, and in rhythm with the pulses of her orgasm. As the tremors finally waned, he withdrew his hand from her shorts and wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly.
Sara wriggled around in his arms until she was facing him. Draping her arms around his waist she rested her head on his shoulder, kissing him softly on the side of his neck, nuzzling against his side.
After several deep, calming breaths, she started to move, nudging a thigh between his legs so she could rub herself against his erection. When Grissom groaned, she stepped away, grabbed his hand, and led him to a one of the chaise lounges sitting on the shade covered patio.
Turning, Sara reached out to cup his cock with the palm of her hand. He was very hard, and there was a damp spot the size of a silver dollar where the pre-cum had seeped through the fabric of his slacks. She rubbed her palm up and down the ridge of his cock a few times, feeling it throb through the fabric, before unfastening the clasp on his fly and slowly drawing down the zipper.
Grissom quickly shucked off his slacks and boxers before reaching for the waistband of Sara's shorts. Soon, they were both standing naked, bodies pressed together, their clothes a jumbled pile on the patio.
Reaching down, Sara wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock. It was fully engorged and seeping from the slit in its tip. Running her palm up his belly to his chest she gave him a gentle push and he sat on the lounge.
Sara kneeled astride him, positioning herself over his rigid shaft, gradually lowering herself until he was fully sheathed. With work-roughened hands, Grissom gripped her hips. Slowly she began to ride him, raising and lowering herself a few scant inches, over and over again. When Grissom's hands tightened, she raised herself until only the head of his cock was still inside her before stopping.
His eyes locked on hers and she grinned. After a few moments of stillness she started to tilt her hips forward and back, working only the sensitive glans of his cock with her pussy. Grissom's groans sent a thrill of desire through her, making her nipples tighten. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she raised her hands to her own breasts and pinched the pebbled tips. Closing her eyes, she steadily rocked back and forth while pinching and pulling at her distended nipples. When she felt his thighs tense beneath her, Sara lowered herself in a rush, taking the whole length of him again, reveling in the sweet, slightly painful stretch that made her growl in pleasure.
Now, she rode him hard. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she rose all the way up until only the tip of his cock was left inside her, and then slammed down hard, giving a little twist to rub her clit against his body. Again and again she fucked him, feeling the thrill of being on top, of being the dominant partner, of driving him to the edge and beyond. She could feel the tension in her core ratcheting tighter with each thrust, each grind of her clit against his hard body. Sweat was trickling down her skin, adding to the wet sounds of sex-slicked flesh slapping together.
It was only moments before Grissom's fingers began to grasp her hips, holding her still as he erupted. His whole body bucked as he came, pulsing deep within her.
Sara ground herself against him hard, until she, too, came; this time only a few gentle waves crashing over her. Collapsing breathlessly against Grissom's chest, she took a deep, shuddering gulp of air and let it slowly out. Wriggling down beside him, she straightened her legs, tangling them with his.
"Damn, babe. You need to help me with the yard work more often," she murmured as she settled against his side.
"Hmmm…I have heard that couples who share the same hobbies have a much higher percentage of marital success," he replied, as he pulled her closer to his side.