By KMnO4
Vacation Time
Rating- R
Summary- I have always been an avid fan of baody language and patient men with slow hands...
Lyrics by the Pointer Sisters
As the midnight moon was drifting through the lazy sway of the trees…
Sara swum in slow circles. Her hands cautiously skimmed the surface of the water as she glanced downwards at the shimmering ripples.
A gentle tide lapped against her bare stomach, and the balmy twilight air was steadily rising in temperature as Grissom approached.
I saw the look in your eyes, looking into mine, seeing what you wanted to see…
His face lay inches away from her own, and Sara was momentarily lost in the azure clarity of his gaze, which was rapidly darkening.
The soft outline of her lips was captured by a scattered ray of moonlight, guiding Grissom towards his destination with divine assurance.
Darling don't say a word because I already heard, what your body's saying to mine…
Sara’s breath caught inside the narrow prison of her throat as his mouth pressed firmly against hers. A fluttering assault.
Grissom teased his way along the line of her jaw, while simultaneously treading water. The viscously transparent barrier between the juncture of their chests.
I'm tired of fast moves, I've got a slow groove on my mind…
Her legs were aching to entangle themselves around the muscular frame of his back. The pace was achingly protracted.
But, Sara had waited her whole life for this moment. She forced herself to let it linger as Grissom tentatively fingered the tie of her bikini top.
I want a man with a slow hand, I want a lover with an easy touch…
Sara placed a hand against the back of his neck and drew him closer, narrowing the distance which presently separated them.
She had often wished for there to be nothing between them, and Grissom set about making that happen by tugging gently at the black strings.
I want somebody who will spend some time, not come and go in a heated rush…
The brush of Grissom’s fingers against her partially-clad form, caused Sara to shiver with elation.
He meticulously haunted a trail leading down to her waistband, and then preceded to skim over the delicate curve of skin resting just above it.
I want somebody who will understand, when it comes to love…
She moaned beneath his caress, instinctively arching into the smooth plane of Grissom’s chest, who obligingly groaned in response.
He placed both hands flat against the dip of Sara’s lower back, and pulled her upwards until she was firmly wrapped around his midriff.
I want a slow hand…
Grissom found the contour lines of her collarbone and let his lips read them like a foreign map. Puzzling over the sweetness.
Sara reached for the sides of his shorts and pulled downwards with measured, but insistent tugs.
On shadowed ground, with no one around and a blanket of stars in our eyes…
He had slowly paddled them back towards the shore, and his feet found the textured stroking of sand on the sea bed.
Grissom allowed the suspended force of gravity to hold them upright, and he carefully extricated Sara from her matching bottoms.
We are drifting free, like two lost leaves on the crazy wind of the night…
Sara fought the desire to shudder uncontrollably as her thighs easily parted, and an almost inaudible gasp accompanied Grissom’s unhurried entry.
Her shoulders rose and dipped within the captivating sway of the ocean, as he gradually lengthened his unbearably stimulating strokes.
Darling don't say a word because I already heard, what your body's saying to mine…
“Sara,” Grissom whispered.
His voice grew louder as the moonlight began to fade away into harsh fluorescent light.
“Sara?” He repeated.
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Honey, you really should go home and get some sleep,” Grissom said softly.
Sara surveyed her surroundings, startled to be glimpsing the barren layout room.
“I must have nodded off…” she voiced guardedly.
He absent mindedly brushed a strand of hair behind her left ear.
“Maybe, you should take some time to relax,” Grissom suggested.
“I’m fine. Really-” Sara began, before he interjected.
“How about a vacation?” He grinned. “Not Vegas. Somewhere nice and tropical…”
She threw him a sceptical glance.
“With a beach.”
Her eyes lit up, and then Sara smiled sleepily.
“Will you come?” She asked, taking Grissom’s hand beneath the table.
“Maybe, we could go swimming.”
Fin