SGA smutfic: A Game Teyla Plays
So, uh, this started out as a comment-fic for some SGA "Sheppard is boring like whoa" meta, and got... expanded. No one likes to be blue-balled, after all. Here's hoping it's hot and fun. Do let me know what you think, yes?
Rating: NC17
Warnings: het, slight fem dom, implied felching
A Game Teyla Plays
by hardlyfatal
"What... what are you doing?" Rodney's voice stuttered in confused agitation as Teyla, with customary calmness, affixed his limbs to the legs at each corner of the bed with braided cords, her movements smooth and economical. "You're not going to force-feed me an orange or anything, are you?"
Her eyes were placid, but her smile was pure mischief when she stood back to survey her handiwork; Rodney, nude, splayed out before her like a buffet. For a man of such energy, to be pinned down, prone... ah, the possibilities...
"Oh, wait, is this some sort of sexual bondage thing?" His tone had changed in an instant, from petulance to lechery in thirty seconds. Other parts of him stood to attention, as well.
Teyla said nothing, merely plucked a silk scarf from the side table and advanced. He grew harder before her eyes, his own gaze following the sway of her hips and bob of her breasts with each step.
"Because if it is, I have to say, you have my full encouragement and support--" In mid-sentence, she put the scarf between his teeth and tied it gently behind his head. If her nipples were perilously within his mouth’s reach-though now cruelly inaccessible-that was just an added bonus.
His chest was heaving like a bellows, and when she raked her fingernails down his chest to his groin-- lightly, lightly-- he groaned, eyes rolling back in his head.
"Mmmf unnffa mmffa unnff," said Rodney, but the tone was disgruntled, and Teyla got the gist of what he was saying.
"Patience, Rodney," she murmured, and leaned over so she could trail her lips after her fingers. His complaining swiftly changed to high-pitched whimpers when she took him in her mouth, and his body arched as if in pain at her delicate suction of just the purpling head of his erection.
Rodney shouted, writhing. She decided it was time to show mercy, and knelt on the bed at his waist, one leg slinging itself over his hips. She took him in hand, stroking him between her moist cleft and watching in satisfaction as he panted, quick and shallow, in response.
Finally, Teyla sank down over him, taking him deep. This time, it was her own eyes that rolled back, at the slow and inexorable fullness of his shaft. In her mind, she could envision that thickness, that length, spearing upward into her belly. There was nothing quite like the way her woman's body could swallow him whole, and she thanked the gods for making her as she was even as she began to move on him.
The slow, wet drag of her flesh around him had Rodney surging up, thrusting to meet her downward glide. Each time made a slick, sleek noise, and the scent of her hot, fresh juices teased his nose ruthlessly. He strained at the bonds at his wrists, hands clenched in futile fists as he strove against her.
Desire was a bow, strung ever more tightly within Teyla, and she opened her eyes to watch Rodney gasp and sigh each time she took him in. Their gazes locking, she cupped her breasts, pinching the dark brown nipples, pulling them until they stood stiffly out, delicate points reaching for him. One hand drifted, languorous and lazy, southward until it curved around her mons. Her middle finger pressed inward, eliciting a gasp of her own as it found the hard bud at her center.
Then she reached lower with two fingers, sliding them to either side of the wet prick sinking so eagerly into the swollen folds. Rodney positively twitched at this added stimulus, the tendons of his neck standing out in high, tense relief. He threw his head back, throat exposed and vulnerable, offering himself to her as he poured himself out into her body with a guttural, muffled cry.
Oh, yes. Teyla braced her hands on Rodney's sweat-drenched chest and rode him, hard, pushing herself over the edge until she could see nothing but light, hear nothing but the rush of blood in her veins, and pleasure crashed like waves, like waves...
Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself to lay on him, ear pressed to his thundering heartbeat. A small pink nipple, so close, tempted her; she nibbled it lazily as strength returned to her limbs, and then she remembered he was still tied up. She reached up with a weary arm and pulled free the scarf, tossing it over the edge of the bed.
"God, Teyla, that was... that was..." For once in his life, Rodney McKay was rendered speechless. He seemed to settle for merely pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and Teyla smiled at the strength of the affection she felt for him in that moment. She decided this was a very satisfactory way of rendering him thus, definitely worthy of future application.
"I agree," she replied, rubbing her cheek against the light brown hair between his pectorals. Cuddling at this moment would not go amiss, and she lifted herself from him to untie the bonds that kept him spread-eagle on the bed. A warm, sticky rush of his seed flowed between her thighs.
"Teyla," Rodney whispered, his voice harsh. She looked to see his blue, blue eyes locked on that pooling wetness, and his flagging erection sprang to life once more.
"You have filled me to overflowing," Teyla told him, dancing her fingers through the fluid and lapping delicately. He was ready again, and truth be told, she would not mind another hour of pleasure, herself...
"What should we do this time?" she asked, a little playful. "Would you like to taste me, as I am tasting you?" She climbed once more onto the bed, one knee on either side of his head. "Shall I ride your tongue?"
"Oh, God, thank you," Rodney muttered, sounding most heartfelt indeed as Teyla relaxed her legs to lower herself to his face. Yes, she thought vaguely, her mind becoming hazy at the first touch of his tongue, the gods were certainly worthy of much gratitude.