Rating: M - for SMUT. Consider yourself warned. (I toned this down for . You want the full version, check out the Mary_Marshall Community at LiveJournal).
This chapter has no plot. You want plot, go somewhere else.
Spoilers: Everything to date
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters. Never have, never will. I'm unemployed and broke, so don't sue - there's no point. Big love to David Maples for creating characters we love so much. BTW, USA, this is how the show should go. :-)
The Curtis Hotel
Mary stepped out the shower and into the bedroom. Marshall was next door in the shower, she could hear it through the wall. She walked over the bed, and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a wife beater tank top. Not the sexiest seduction apparel ever, but a girl had to make do with what she had on hand. No time (or opportunity) to do any shopping. Ah well, the important part was the seduction, not the attire.
Walking back into the bathroom, she decided to blow dry her hair. Not something she normally did before bed, but somehow, she didn't feel like seduction was quite as effective with wet hair. Besides, she still had time to kill while Marshall was finishing his shower.
Marshall had brought his pajama pants into the bathroom with him, but no shirt. He only slept with a shirt on when they were on the job and/or sharing a room. Since neither of these things was the case tonight, he figured a shirt was unnecessary. He brushed his teeth in the shower, and thanked God that the day had ended the way it did. He wasn't sure he could've handled another traumatic incident with Mary, and as a bonus, that asshole Faber was finally out of the picture. He'd heard from Stan while they were driving to the hotel that Faber was being kicked out of the bureau, since his behavior had endangered a federal witness. He was lucky there hadn't been charges of witness tampering against him.
Pushing aside the shower curtain, Marshall reached for a towel, and wrapped himself in it. He could hear Mary using the blow dryer next door. Odd, he thought, she didn't usually blow dry her hair before bed, and he figured she'd be so exhausted she'd be in bed already. Well, there was no making sense of Mary. That's what he loved about her - she was an original.
Putting on his pajama pants, he stepped out of the bathroom, and walked towards the door between their rooms. He opened the door, stuck his head in, and called out to her. "Mar? I'm headed to bed. You ok?"
No response. The blow dryer wasn't running anymore. Marshall walked through the door, into her room, only to find himself pinned against the wall, Mary's lips on his and her hands on his chest. Momentarily stunned, he began kissing her back in earnest, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. The intensity of the kiss increased, and Mary's hands moved to his ass, and he could feel himself getting hard. This had to stop. This was not Mary. She didn't feel this way about him.
He pushed her away. "What are you doing?"
Mary grinned lasciviously. "Getting ready to throw down with my best friend, I hope."
"Mary, are you..." words failed him.
"Horny? Sexy? Crazy about you? Yes to all of the above. Now, are you going to stand there or are you going to kiss me again?"
"Mary, I don't...I can't..."
"Marshall, I want this. I want you. I know you want me. What is the problem?" She moved closer, putting her hands on his chest, tracing circles around his nipples, and then down his stomach. "Don't you want me?"
"Jesus, Mary. You sure know how to surprise a guy." He pulled her close. "Of course I want you. I just wasn't expecting you to..."
"Reciprocate?" she interrupted. "Stop talking, Marshall." In an instant, her mouth was on his again, tongues dueling, and her hands were on his ass, beneath his pajama pants.
Marshall began moving them toward the bed, because if this was going to happen, it damn well was going to happen on the bed, not up against the wall. He pulled her hands from his pants, and pulled them over her head as he pulled her tank top off, exposing her breasts to him. Those glorious breasts, that he'd dreamed about so many times. He tore his mouth from hers and moved it to her neck as they collapsed onto the bed. Her hands were now on his shoulders, and in his hair. She was writhing beneath him as he placed kisses on her chin, below her ear, on her neck, her shoulder, and the hollow at the base of her throat.
"Marshall," she moaned.
"Mmmm, you like that?" He paused long enough to switch to the other side of her neck. His left hand was tracing circles around her left breast, and his right hand was on her ass, stroking it, cupping it. He lowered his head to her left breast, left hand moving to her pajama pants, tracing the waistband, just dipping beneath it on occasion. Gentle kisses and nips on the sides of her breast while his right hand worked tweaked the nipple on her other breast, mimicking the actions of his mouth.
Mary was growing frustrated beneath him, he could tell. She was grinding up against him, and his hands had not even moved below her waist yet. Switching his attention to her other breast, he hooked his thumbs in her pajama bottoms and pulled them off of her. She shrieked in delight as the cool air hit her exposed skin. She wasn't wearing any underwear, he noted. Still laving her breasts with his mouth, alternating from left to right, he used his left hand to anchor her to the bed at her hip, he trailed his hand up between her legs, tracing the inside of one thigh, and then the other. Without even using any pressure, his fingers passed over the curls between her legs, once, twice, three times. She bucked beneath him. He moved his mouth lower, to place a kiss on her belly button, and then blowing on it, gently.
He stood up. Mary's eyes flew open in frustration, only to be rewarded by the sight of him taking off his own pajama pants, before returning to the bed. He fused his mouth against hers as his right hand resumed its ministrations. She was whimpering at the combination of his hands and mouth. Trailing kisses down her sternum, he paused to suckle each breast, gently, and then nipped at them, oh so slightly. He used his thumb on her clit, and he could tell she was close. He withdrew his hand from between her legs, and was about to replace it with his tongue, when Mary pulled him down, rolled them over and straddled him.
"Not yet, cowboy. We're just getting started." She grinned evily. "Now it's my turn."
Mary was dripping with anticipation, and desperately wanted to finish what Marshall had started, but she also absolutely had to torture him a little. She wanted to see how much more she could take. She pinned Marshall's arms at his side, and began kissing him. Gently, on the mouth at first, where she'd bit him only moments before. Then she moved to his nipples, trailing her tongue in circles around them, flicking her tongue over them.
Marshall didn't think he could be anymore turned on then he already was, the sight of Mary, naked, dripping on top of him, her tongue on his body, her breasts against his stomach. She relaxed the pressure on his arms while she focused her attention on his chest, and he took the opportunity to free them, and fondle her breasts, and her ass. She was a sight to behold.
Mary turned around and focused her attention on his cock, using her hands to pleasure him, stroking him, massaging his balls. Marshall took the opportunity to resume his ministrations with his hands. Before she could finish what she was doing, Mary's orgasm exploded around her. She shuddered as Marshall rolled them over, stroking her breasts gently, kissing her even more gently, as she rode the waves of her orgasm.
"Jesus, Marshall. I had no idea."
He smiled. "I am a man of many talents."
She reached for him, "I want you, inside me, now."
"I need to go get a condom."
"No, you don't. I'm clean, you're clean, and I'm on the pill. Should I be pleased that you brought condoms?"
"Boy Scout motto: Always be prepared." He slid into her. He filled her completely, and his mouth returned to hers as he withdrew, and then thrust into her again. She locked her legs around his knees, trying to pull him even deeper. Her hands were on his ass, digging into him. "Faster," she breathed. "Faster, Marshall, Jesus."
Marshall grinned. He loved that she found God during sex. Increasing the pace, he could feel the pressure building, so he reached between them, and applied his thumb to her clit, flicking her once, twice. One more flick, his mouth on hers, and she came again, thrashing violently beneath him. His orgasm followed, as he poured himself into her, claiming her as his.
They laid there on the bed, in an sweaty heap. He was still inside her. He kissed her again. "Well, that was an unexpected end to the day," he muttered into her ear.
She turned her head to him, kissing him gently on the nose. "I didn't really plan it this way, but I'm glad it happened. Are you?"
Suckling her earlobe, he responded, "Very." He withdrew from her, and pulled her up from the bed. Pulling the covers down, he whispered, "Let's get some sleep."
She turned to face him, and kissed him. "Let's get in bed, then we'll discuss sleep." Her hand moved lower on his body. Taking him in her hand, and stroking gently, she said, "I'm not sure we're tired yet."
Feeling himself harden again in response her hands, he kissed her more deeply, and pulled her into the bed with him. "I guess we can sleep when we're dead, right?"
"Exactly," as she guided him into her again.