Author's Note: This is a project Psycho Maddy and I once started, but it soon fell through, so we only got as far as writing two drabbles each. She recently told me that she lost the two drabbles she wrote, and I asked for her permission to post the two that I still have, which she gave me. So if you enjoy this very small series I'm about to start posting, you can thank Amanda ;)
Anyway, as you can very well imagine, we're dealing with fantasies of the sexual kind. The rating is that high for a very valid reason, so if you're not comfortable with explicit scenes do not read! This is as explicit as they come.

I own nothing but the mistakes you'll find in this story and a little, comfy place in the gutter, from which most of my ideas stem.


Sexual ravaging.

A recurrent fantasy that he indulges in ever so often. He likes to think of having hot, urgent, forceful sex with her in unexpected places.

Not that they hadn't enough of that in the past, but he likes to fantasize about it now that she is off-limits.

He likes to imagine the knee-long skirt of her prim business suit hitched up around her waist, showing off her long, sexy legs encased in sinful black nylon stockings.

Her panties torn and forgotten on the floor in the heat of the moment. A groan of protest coming from her as she tries to push him away half-heartedly, using her body to let him know that she wants it just as much, despite the act.

He likes to think of her back pressed up against the wall of her office - or maybe against the cold steel wall of the elevator - and he imagines the way she would throw her head back, arching her elegant neck before his lips as he thrusts into her without a warning.

He thinks about the screams she would muffle, biting her lip hard enough for it to turn red and swollen. He revels in his fantasy of marking the creamy white skin of her throat with his teeth, well knowing that she will wear his bruises and bites for the world to see.

He imagines the sweaty, fast, rough intercourse as pure adrenaline rushing through their bodies, blood pumping almost too fast for them to even breathe. Her nails digging into his shirt-covered shoulders, hands tangling in his hair and pulling at it in an endless fight for dominance. Until he thrusts hard enough to send her over the edge, feeling her lips pressed against his head to muffle her moans as he buries his face in her chest, inhaling her scent deeply.

The elevator doors slide open in front of him, and suddenly his trousers feel far too tight as the subject of his fantasy appears in front of him.

"Jethro."

"Jen." He can't hide the smirk creeping up his face as she steps in next to him, his eyes observing her tantalizing curves under the conservative business suit she's wearing. "Going down?"

A smirk to match his own appears on Jenny's face and she glances at him suggestively, her eyes glinting in wicked amusement,

"You wish, don't you?"


THE END