Disclaimer: The usual assurances to Belisarius Productions that I am not trying to take their copyrights or their characters; just their women.
Rating: NC-is 17. Sex. Non-con? You decide.
Pairing: Abby and your Favorite.
Nocturnal Visitor
by Phantom69781
Abby Sciuto was exhausted. It had been a full day working on the details of the Santi investigation. She could not tear herself away; until Jimmy Palmer, delivering a specimen from Autopsy, had asked her how she was and she had no idea what he had said. That was when she knew she needed to get to bed.
When she closed the door to her apartment she left the lights off, illuminating the room by just the light breaking in through her windows. Walking tiredly into her bedroom, she tugged at the tee shirt she had worn, pulling it over her head, unzipped the short black skirt, and let everything lay where it fell. She was much too tired to care.
She went to the window, pulling the black drapes closed, plunging the room into blackness. She knew her way around the uncluttered room from memory, so had no problem returning to the single piece of ‘furniture' set in the center of the room, finding it by touch.
In lieu of a bed, there stood upon a low black stand an equally black, though highly polished, coffin. She had always maintained she wanted to go in a familiar conveyance when it came her turn to shuffle off this mortal coil. She said it was practical, considering the price of beds, but all together it suited her Goth lifestyle. She stood before it, using her grip on the edge to balance herself as she removed her shoes and socks. It was low enough for her to step into. Just wearing her small black panties, she lowered herself into the coffin, enjoying the feel of the familiar silken cushions, pulled the lid down; enshrouding herself in darkness. It was not airtight; there was a small piece that blocked the lid from closing completely, but it was still as dark as a tomb. She was asleep in seconds.
The first awareness of the dream was when she felt the hands caressing her body. They were gentle, yet firm, and touched her in all the special ways she loved to be touched. Of course they did, she realized; this was her dream.
She felt the hands slowly stroke her breasts, teasing her nipples, fingers touching her gently as she started to grow excited, one hand slowly tracing her body, down to her stomach as the other hand fondled her breasts, gently pinching her nipples, which stiffened erotically in response to the touch. She moaned with the sensation of the hands on her willing body, giving herself over to the pleasure. The other hand stroked her body, passing over her panty covered hips to stroke her thighs, teasing her. She sighed, opening her legs invitingly as far as she could in the confining space of the wide coffin. When she felt a warm mouth suck at her nipple she groaned in her sleep.
She felt her legs being spread gently, her knees bending to allow her lover more access as she moved in anticipation of the touch. Now she was able to open wider, spreading herself invitingly for his touch. Gradually, teasingly, the hand crept up her bare thigh toward her crotch, and when she felt the fingers press on and pet her panty-covered labia she gasped in pleasure, arching her hips. The other hand continued to squeeze and mold her firm breast, the mouth warm on her other breast while a finger stroked her vagina through her black panties, slowly and sensuously, up and down.
Her own hands were not still either, touching herself in accent to her lover's manipulations. The mouth on her breast was making her gasp, no less so was the finger that petted her.
She felt the hands move, the mouth coming away, and they went to her panties. She dreamed of caressing her own breasts while the hands pulled at the small black material covering her. She lifted her hips, feeling the damp material sliding down her legs and off her body. Then the hand was back, stroking her hot, wet labia, the other hand fondling her breast while the mouth was again at her other breast, sucking and licking at her sensitive nipple.
She dreamed she was writhing in the coffin, gasping, letting go of all her inhibitions, thrusting up to meet the fingers that stroked her vagina. They touched her clitoris and she cried out in the silence of her black bedroom, giving herself fully over to the dream, enjoying the hot thrills of every touch. The hand on her breast, the hot mouth sucking her other breast, gently nibbling on her nipple in rhythm to the strokes of fingertips on her clitoris and labia were driving her wild.
Digging her heels into the silken cushion, she thrust her hips up to meet the hand, spreading wide, urging the hand into her. She dreamed that first one finger, then two, pressed into her, forcing against her tightness as she groaned loudly, enjoying every touch. When another finger pressed her clitoris as the other two pressed in deep, moving in and out she cried out, writhing about on the bed, her nipples pinched and bitten lightly as she felt the orgasm consume her.
She screamed loudly, not holding back as she convulsed in a wild climax that seemed to go on forever, clutching the thrusting fingers inside her tightly; hot cream gushing from her, soaking the cushion as her orgasm went on and on!
Finally she collapsed, gasping on the silken cushion, completely and thoroughly sated. She'd orgasmed harder than she'd done in months in real life, and still could enjoy the stroking of the hands on her body, the sucking at her breast, the cooling girl-cream that soaked into the silken cushion under her.
‘Wait,' her clearing mind said, ‘cooling? Nothing ever cools in a -' The hand was still moving in and out of her vagina, two fingers pressing in and pulling out as she gasped. Sudden awareness slammed her mind. She reached down, her hand closing on a firm wrist. She gasped again, this time for another reason! ‘Real!'
She stiffened, and tried to scream, but the hand at her breast flashed up and covered her mouth hard. She screamed over and over, struggling in blind terror, unable to fight the body that pinned her to the bed. She tried to push the hand away from her vagina, but couldn't budge it; her assailant had the advantage of weight and leverage. She shrieked as loudly as she could, producing only a muffled sound she could barely hear herself. She clenched her legs together, fighting to keep him from getting in deeper!
"Abby!" A voice urged from above her. "Stop!" She writhed desperately, confined in the tight space of the coffin, unable to believe it as she recognized the voice! No! This can't be happening! She fought with renewed panic. "Stop struggling!"
She stopped only because she knew from her struggles that she couldn't win. He was too strong, and had the advantage of being above her, beside the coffin. She kept her legs pressed tightly together. She couldn't pry him out, but at least he couldn't get further in. Of course, he was all the way in at the moment, so it was no victory. "I'm not going to hurt you!"
"What do you want?!" She said into the muffling hand, knowing that it would come out well enough.
"You." He moved his hand in her, moving his fingers about. She started to scream again, and he pressed harder, her head forced onto the pillow, muffled so she could barely hear herself. "Listen to me!" She stopped screaming, unable to believe that this was happening. It couldn't be! Not with him! "You enjoyed this already. Now I've waited a long time. I'll be gentle. Now..." She felt his fingers move about inside of her, and she shrieked, struggling wildly. He pressed harder still, almost smothering her. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she was sure he must hear it, but she couldn't pry either of his hands away. She stopped fighting him, her heart pounding so hard she could barely hear him. "This can be gentle, or it can be a rape. Either way, it is going to happen! Understand?"
She couldn't move, paralyzed with terror. But finally she did her best to nod. The pressure on her mouth eased. "So which is it? A willing fuck which you'll enjoy, believe me. Or do I rape you and take what I want? Your choice."
For a long time she couldn't answer. If he'd uncover her mouth she'd scream loud enough to be heard all the way back at NCIS Headquarters, but she wasn't sure of what he'd do as a result. If she reported him, his career was over. What might he do to prevent that? He'd already said he would rape her!
On the other hand, he had been gentle, and she had enjoyed it. And she had to admit, at least to herself, that she had thought about it, about him. Just why did it have to be so...
She tried to talk, and he cautiously uncovered her mouth. "Please!" She gasped. "Just don't hurt me."
"Oh, honey, I'd never hurt you. I've been dying to be with you for months."
"Then why didn't you just say so?"
"I couldn't."
"But you'd break in and molest me?"
Her legs had relaxed, and he moved his hand about in her. "You can't say you didn't enjoy it."
"I was dreaming!"
"No, you weren't." But his hand movements gave lie to any protest she might raise; since it had felt very good. And she had to admit that the scare she'd received had not been entirely unpleasant. Being captured was, in a way, arousing, and — He moved his hand in her, his finger stroking her clitoris, and the flash of feeling that shot through her body made her gasp, groaning loudly. Her body had decided to go with the pleasure, she realized, and her mental protests were not invited. He kept stoking her clitoris; she laid back, her legs opening to him, and it was all over for her!
She felt his wet hand moving over her, and could not deny that it felt good. She had trusted him, and now she found that she still did, that he wouldn't hurt her. She could understand his ‘desperation', his desire to take things into his own hand, as it were. And she had thought about him, many times. Now...
What he was doing felt so good, the way his hands and his mouth caressed her body. He sucked and licked her nipples, which were hard and sensitive to his knowing touch. She knew she had to find his hardness.
Reaching out in the blackness, she traced the path of his body as he bent beside her coffin, and found him hard and ready. In fact, as she cupped the hot rod of flesh in her hand, petting it, she heard a sharp intake of breath and knew it felt as good to him as what he was doing to her. She ran her palm up and down along the shaft, surprised at the intense hardness of it, the heat, the length, the texture. She thought of taste, and just had to have him!
Turning on her side, holding her legs spread to give him access, she pulled him closer. With his hands between her legs and petting both her breasts as she lay on her side, she pulled him to her. He climbed down into her coffin, lying facing her in the confining space. It was a wide coffin, but barely big enough for two. He shifted closer, and she held his hot flesh between her palms, caressing it, her tongue coming out to meet his in a hot duel.
He groaned, stroking her vagina harder, his fingers working in and out of her as she moaned in mounting passion, giving herself over to the sensation as he squeezed her breasts, petting her full mounds. She rubbed the shaft between her palms, stroking it as if she were molding him. She felt him growing harder as he groaned, and his movements between her legs were making her moan just as loudly.
She couldn't wait any longer; she just had to taste him! Coming up on her knees in the confining space, pulling away only momentarily from his mouth on hers, from his hands on her breasts, she went down, opened her lips and gave his hard shaft a long, sensuous lick.
He moaned as she tasted him for the first time, and it was everything she had imagined in her most private thoughts as she had worked alone in her solitary lab for so many months, with him so close at his own duties upstairs and so unattainably far! She licked again, the taste making her vagina clench about his questing fingers.
Opening her mouth, she took as much of him as she could into her mouth, petting the hard shaft with her tongue. She could not get it all the way in, he was too big and long, but she took what she could, loving it with her tongue, sucking the flavorful rod. He was moaning loudly, his hand on her breasts more intense, his other hand working in and out of her until she could barely think.
She worked the thick penis in and out of her mouth, her palms stroking the base, until she felt the telltale pulses. She tightened her lips and pulled away one last time. She did not want him to do it this way!
They worked their bodies about in the restricting confines until she was under him, pulling him to her as she lay back, spreading her legs, offering herself to him.
No words needed to be said as she felt him position himself in the thin coffin, and she raised her legs higher, spread her thighs wide, holding his penis between her palms, stroking the wet shaft as she guided/pulled him to her. She felt the tip of her manhood touch her lips and let go, reaching to embrace him.
When he was pressed against her lovely vagina he pushed hard, making her body arch as she gasped in pleasure. He was so hard, so thick and long but she was tight, tighter than he'd thought and it took several thrusts before he forced himself deep into her. She clung to him with her arms and legs, holding him in as her vagina clutched him tightly, hotly. He began to move, as little as she would let him, and she groaned loudly, crying out as he pushed in deep, pressing himself against her clitoris. She was thrilled; she'd always thought he might be a good lover. And as he emphasized the moveŽments against her ultra-sensitive nub with every thrust she knew she was right.
He worked slowly at first, having to work his way into her, not wanting to hurt her. "Don't hold back," she urged breathlessly, "give it to me! Give it to me hard! I'm your virgin sacrifice and you've conquered me! Take me hard!" He gave her a thrust that filled her in an instant, spreading her wide as she screamed in pleasure, holding him closer, tightening her legs about his hips. So encouraged, he started a faster, harder pace that filled her to her limit. He had to cover her mouth to muffle her screams, she in turn became more vocal as she was assured they would not be disturbed and she could let go. She didn't have to urge him; he slammed into her hot tightness with mounting passion as she felt her orgasm building.
She screamed shrilly into his covering hand as her body went wild; and explosions of light burst behind her clenched eyes. He was grateful for the restraining sides of the coffin, he could barely have held her on a bed, and when he reached his own climax, his white hot come pumping deep into her tightly clutching vagina she shrieked in pleasure, her nails digging deep into his back as her orgasm took her so violently she thought they would break the sides of the coffin.
She never really knew when it ended; just that he was kissing her more gently, his body still on hers as awareness returned to her devastated mind. She felt him still hard in her, and gave his rod a sensuous vaginal hug.
"My God!" She exclaimed when she could breathe.
"Again?"
"Again?" She exclaimed.
"With you, I could go all night."
"I'm so glad you came."
"Not scared anymore?" He moved in and out of her in a slow, sensuous stroke, keeping her breathless.
"No! I want you again."
"We'll have to be discreet when we're on duty."
"Screw ‘discreet', take me in a closet if you have to!"
"In the meantime, I've got a great idea."
"What?" She asked, anticipation mounting.
"Where do you keep your handcuffs?"
Author's Chapter Notes:
Abby dreams she has a visitor in the middle of the night - or is it a dream?