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melissas_cornerAs most of you know, I mostly write slash, however, I do have a few het stories in the works. One isn't giving me very much and I wanted y'all's opinion. Behind the cut is the one scene I've managed to actually finish for this story. It's CSI: NY, Danny Messer/OFC. It's set in the future, they've been married for 15 years. To say anything more just might spoil this bit. So anyway, please read it and let me know what you think. Thanks.
Danny's POV:
I'm not sure what woke me but suddenly I'm wide awake and aware that my wife, my very pregnant wife, isn't in bed next to me like she's supposed to be at 3 am.
Deciding that lying in bed isn't going to be of any help, I roll to my feet and stand there for a moment to see if I can determine what it was that woke me up. A noise that is not one that should be in our apartment in the middle of the night reaches my ears and has me getting my gun out of the safe hidden in the closet. A quick glance in the bathroom, the nursery and the girls' room as I pass shows no sign of Tracy. Slipping the safety off, a frown marring my brow, I slowly make my way down the hall toward the sound of someone in the kitchen.
I'm not the cop Tracy and Flack are so I feel very…odd…stalking an unusual noise in my kitchen wearing nothing but my sleep pants.
Pausing just outside the door to the kitchen, my gun hidden against my leg, I strain to hear what's going on, hoping to be able to tell who, or what, is in there. A soft humming and the sound of someone slurping just add to my confusion. Why would someone be making that sound in my kitchen in the middle of the night? I silently muse, pushing open the swinging door as slowly and quietly as I can.
What I see in the light of the refrigerator is definitely not what I was expecting. My pregnant wife is standing in the open fridge door holding what appears to be a can of cake icing which she is eating with her fingers. My head drops forward and I close my eyes, releasing a sigh of frustration. Tracy is in her seventh month and two months ago we found out she has gestational diabetes. She's had a difficult time with the restrictions because she has a huge sweet tooth.
"Tracy…" I lightly scold, putting the safety back on before setting my gun down on the table and approaching where she's still stubbornly dipping a finger into the icing, which I can now see is the leftover chocolate she'd used earlier to frost the cake she baked with Madeline.
"What?" she mutters not even looking up at me while swiping one finger around the edge of the can. "I was hungry."
I reach out to take the frosting can from her and she actually snarls at me. Snatching my hand back, I blink at her. "Tracy," I call softly.
"Take this frosting from me and you'll pull back a bloody stub."
"You're not supposed to be eating that."
"I told you, I was hungry!" Her head snaps up so she can glare at me.
"That's not food!" I respond, pointing at the can in her hand. Her eyes narrow on my face and I know she's gearing up a rant like none I've ever seen. "Think of the baby. You keep eating that and your blood sugar will spike and could harm the baby." I reach for the frosting again, moving as slow as I would when approaching a crazy suspect. "Now give me the frosting."
She grips the can tighter and tucks it under her arm, turning her body to shield it from me. "You know how long it's been since I've I had chocolate, Messer?"
So that's how it's gonna be, huh? "I know exactly, Manhattan. I promise you, the day the doctor says the diabetes is gone, I'll take you to get the biggest hot fudge sundae you've ever had." She frowns at me and I can tell she's about to give up the fight. "The can, please." I hold out my hand, just barely refraining from snapping my fingers at her like I would the girls.
She wrinkles her nose and then manages to surprise me by dipping her finger in the chocolate and smearing it on the tip of my nose. She then wraps her hand around the back of my head to pull it down enough to lick it off.
"Is that how it's gonna be, then?" I ask, reaching for the frosting to return the favor. Before my fingers can even get close to the can, she gives me one of her more seductive smiles, bites her lip, then goes up on tiptoe to lick her way into my mouth.
I may have been the first man to ever kiss her, but she's a quick learner and knows exactly how I like to be kissed. I place my hands on her hips to help her balance while we explored each other's mouths.
After a minute my reaction becomes obvious and she breaks the kiss with a giggle. It amazes me how after fifteen years of marriage the fact that she can arouse me with just a kiss still amuses her.
With an answering chuckle, I turn us so I can sit in a chair at the table with her straddling my lap, taking the can from her at the same time and setting it on the table. She doesn't even seem aware that I've taken the forbidden treat from her grasp.
Running my hands up her silky thighs, raising the hem of her shirt, I lick my bottom lip before leaning forward to nip her chin.
"Daniel…" she moans, fisting her hands in my hair.
"Yeah, Babe?" I lick a path to her ear, hiding a smile against her skin at the shaky little sigh she releases.
"The girls-" A gasp when my teeth find her earlobe.
"Are sleeping." I suck a small patch of skin from behind her ear into my mouth and leave a tiny bruise.
"What-" She swallows thickly. "What if they wake up?" Our daughters are twelve and fifteen and while they know the mechanics of sex, they really don't need to see us fucking in the kitchen.
"Why would they come to the kitchen?"
"For water."
I can't help but chuckle at her. Tracy had wanted to be a nun before we met and despite knowing that what we do in bed isn't sinful (but only 'cause we're married) she still has difficulty getting busy in places other than our bed. "That's why there're cups in their bathroom."
"Oh, G-" the rest of her exclamation at my fingers finding her through her underwear, which I barely register is a pair of her maternity panties and not one of my boxers like she usually wears, is cut off by her sealing her mouth to mine. I can't help but laugh mentally because she tries so hard to not use the phrase 'Oh, God' especially when we're having sex.
Tearing my mouth from hers, I kiss my way down her neck while unbuttoning the shirt she's wearing which I notice is one of mine. The woman seems to prefer my clothes to hers when she's pregnant.
I slowly reveal one of my favorite parts of my wife's body: her breasts. When she's not pregnant, they just more than fill my hand and when she's pregnant, and nursing, they grow even bigger.
Cupping one breast in each hand, I lick her pert nipples, pulling a shudder from her. She scrambles to get my dick out of my sleep pants. I reluctantly release one breast to tug her panties to the side so she can impale herself on my erect flesh before reaching out and scooping up some frosting on two of my fingers.
"As yummy as these are, I wonder how much better they'll taste when iced." I smear the frosting on her left nipple then slowly lick it off, my gaze locked with hers.
Another gasp escapes her pretty little mouth when I take her nipple in my mouth and suck the rest of the frosting off. When she begins grinding down on my cock, trying to get some friction, I spread my legs wider which has me going even deeper and begin to rock my hips against hers.
Pulling off her breast with a slurp, I lick up her neck to nibble on her lips. She whines low in her throat when my fingers find her clit and begin to rub.
As always happens at this point, she's forgotten that we're not in our bed and is concentrating only on what I'm making her feel.
Eventually she throws her head back and I can feel the contractions that signal she's about to come apart in my arms just moments before she does and I follow her over the edge mere seconds later with a shout I have to smother in her neck.
Danny's POV:
I'm not sure what woke me but suddenly I'm wide awake and aware that my wife, my very pregnant wife, isn't in bed next to me like she's supposed to be at 3 am.
Deciding that lying in bed isn't going to be of any help, I roll to my feet and stand there for a moment to see if I can determine what it was that woke me up. A noise that is not one that should be in our apartment in the middle of the night reaches my ears and has me getting my gun out of the safe hidden in the closet. A quick glance in the bathroom, the nursery and the girls' room as I pass shows no sign of Tracy. Slipping the safety off, a frown marring my brow, I slowly make my way down the hall toward the sound of someone in the kitchen.
I'm not the cop Tracy and Flack are so I feel very…odd…stalking an unusual noise in my kitchen wearing nothing but my sleep pants.
Pausing just outside the door to the kitchen, my gun hidden against my leg, I strain to hear what's going on, hoping to be able to tell who, or what, is in there. A soft humming and the sound of someone slurping just add to my confusion. Why would someone be making that sound in my kitchen in the middle of the night? I silently muse, pushing open the swinging door as slowly and quietly as I can.
What I see in the light of the refrigerator is definitely not what I was expecting. My pregnant wife is standing in the open fridge door holding what appears to be a can of cake icing which she is eating with her fingers. My head drops forward and I close my eyes, releasing a sigh of frustration. Tracy is in her seventh month and two months ago we found out she has gestational diabetes. She's had a difficult time with the restrictions because she has a huge sweet tooth.
"Tracy…" I lightly scold, putting the safety back on before setting my gun down on the table and approaching where she's still stubbornly dipping a finger into the icing, which I can now see is the leftover chocolate she'd used earlier to frost the cake she baked with Madeline.
"What?" she mutters not even looking up at me while swiping one finger around the edge of the can. "I was hungry."
I reach out to take the frosting can from her and she actually snarls at me. Snatching my hand back, I blink at her. "Tracy," I call softly.
"Take this frosting from me and you'll pull back a bloody stub."
"You're not supposed to be eating that."
"I told you, I was hungry!" Her head snaps up so she can glare at me.
"That's not food!" I respond, pointing at the can in her hand. Her eyes narrow on my face and I know she's gearing up a rant like none I've ever seen. "Think of the baby. You keep eating that and your blood sugar will spike and could harm the baby." I reach for the frosting again, moving as slow as I would when approaching a crazy suspect. "Now give me the frosting."
She grips the can tighter and tucks it under her arm, turning her body to shield it from me. "You know how long it's been since I've I had chocolate, Messer?"
So that's how it's gonna be, huh? "I know exactly, Manhattan. I promise you, the day the doctor says the diabetes is gone, I'll take you to get the biggest hot fudge sundae you've ever had." She frowns at me and I can tell she's about to give up the fight. "The can, please." I hold out my hand, just barely refraining from snapping my fingers at her like I would the girls.
She wrinkles her nose and then manages to surprise me by dipping her finger in the chocolate and smearing it on the tip of my nose. She then wraps her hand around the back of my head to pull it down enough to lick it off.
"Is that how it's gonna be, then?" I ask, reaching for the frosting to return the favor. Before my fingers can even get close to the can, she gives me one of her more seductive smiles, bites her lip, then goes up on tiptoe to lick her way into my mouth.
I may have been the first man to ever kiss her, but she's a quick learner and knows exactly how I like to be kissed. I place my hands on her hips to help her balance while we explored each other's mouths.
After a minute my reaction becomes obvious and she breaks the kiss with a giggle. It amazes me how after fifteen years of marriage the fact that she can arouse me with just a kiss still amuses her.
With an answering chuckle, I turn us so I can sit in a chair at the table with her straddling my lap, taking the can from her at the same time and setting it on the table. She doesn't even seem aware that I've taken the forbidden treat from her grasp.
Running my hands up her silky thighs, raising the hem of her shirt, I lick my bottom lip before leaning forward to nip her chin.
"Daniel…" she moans, fisting her hands in my hair.
"Yeah, Babe?" I lick a path to her ear, hiding a smile against her skin at the shaky little sigh she releases.
"The girls-" A gasp when my teeth find her earlobe.
"Are sleeping." I suck a small patch of skin from behind her ear into my mouth and leave a tiny bruise.
"What-" She swallows thickly. "What if they wake up?" Our daughters are twelve and fifteen and while they know the mechanics of sex, they really don't need to see us fucking in the kitchen.
"Why would they come to the kitchen?"
"For water."
I can't help but chuckle at her. Tracy had wanted to be a nun before we met and despite knowing that what we do in bed isn't sinful (but only 'cause we're married) she still has difficulty getting busy in places other than our bed. "That's why there're cups in their bathroom."
"Oh, G-" the rest of her exclamation at my fingers finding her through her underwear, which I barely register is a pair of her maternity panties and not one of my boxers like she usually wears, is cut off by her sealing her mouth to mine. I can't help but laugh mentally because she tries so hard to not use the phrase 'Oh, God' especially when we're having sex.
Tearing my mouth from hers, I kiss my way down her neck while unbuttoning the shirt she's wearing which I notice is one of mine. The woman seems to prefer my clothes to hers when she's pregnant.
I slowly reveal one of my favorite parts of my wife's body: her breasts. When she's not pregnant, they just more than fill my hand and when she's pregnant, and nursing, they grow even bigger.
Cupping one breast in each hand, I lick her pert nipples, pulling a shudder from her. She scrambles to get my dick out of my sleep pants. I reluctantly release one breast to tug her panties to the side so she can impale herself on my erect flesh before reaching out and scooping up some frosting on two of my fingers.
"As yummy as these are, I wonder how much better they'll taste when iced." I smear the frosting on her left nipple then slowly lick it off, my gaze locked with hers.
Another gasp escapes her pretty little mouth when I take her nipple in my mouth and suck the rest of the frosting off. When she begins grinding down on my cock, trying to get some friction, I spread my legs wider which has me going even deeper and begin to rock my hips against hers.
Pulling off her breast with a slurp, I lick up her neck to nibble on her lips. She whines low in her throat when my fingers find her clit and begin to rub.
As always happens at this point, she's forgotten that we're not in our bed and is concentrating only on what I'm making her feel.
Eventually she throws her head back and I can feel the contractions that signal she's about to come apart in my arms just moments before she does and I follow her over the edge mere seconds later with a shout I have to smother in her neck.