I promised Porn today.
John Sheridan was unsure about a great many things in his life. He did not know what made the sky blue on Earth and Minbar but red on Brakir; he did not know what caused a star to go supernova; he did not know what the next year or five or ten would hold for his family, his empire… himself. But he knew right here and now that he loved this woman more than he’d ever loved anything else in the universe. He would give anything, including his own life, to ensure her happiness.
Luckily, it was not required that he give his life this night - only his love, only himself. Lips on lips, hands clasped on either side, fingers interwoven, bodies pressed together - a familiar pose, a comforting position, and yet it was different tonight. Somehow John felt closer to his wife in this moment than he had ever been.
Delenn parted her legs slightly, allowing John to slide one thigh between them. When he did so, she raised her knees to increase contact at the center of their bodies.
“I could spend an eternity just kissing you.” John’s head was in a fog, and the whole of himself was lost in Delenn’s kiss, in her lips, her scent, her… everything. He freed his left hand to bring it up to her face, gently brushing his knuckles over her nose, under her eye, down her cheek, to her chin, and across her lips, where he let his thumb find a soft landing and he just stared at her. She was staring back, smiling - Delenn smiled a lot. John tried to, but sometimes… sometimes he had trouble finding things to smile about. But this, right here in his arms - he was pretty sure he smiled his brightest when she was smiling back at him like that.
“Another time, perhaps,” she breathed, and he could only stare at her for a long moment, speechless. She’d been making him speechless, taking his breath from him since the very first time he saw her. It was a small wonder now that he was ever able to draw a steady breath when she was in the room.
John was vaguely aware of Delenn lifting his hand from her face, kissing the pads of his fingers, leading that hand down along the curve of the side of her body. When she couldn’t reach any further, his hand continued its journey alone, feeling her hip, her thigh, then up and across her knee and slowly, very slowly, up the inside of her right leg. He pushed himself up just slightly so that he could reach the middle of her body, touch where he wanted to touch her, where he knew she wanted to be touched. His eyes locked with hers, holding steady and never breaking away as he slipped two fingers inside her.
She was ready already, he could feel it, and the way she gently moved her hips against his fingers made him break their gaze, bite back desire and stifle an inward groan. “Slow,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers as his fingers continued their ministrations, and he added a third digit even as his thumb came up to graze her most intimate pleasure center, a sure bet - one he prayed would never change. “We have all night.” She whimpered in response, her hips rising to meet his hand, and he nodded in turn, in understanding. “You are so beautiful.” He was studying her face, setting to memory the way all stress was gone from her features, the way her eyes shone up at him under his intimate touch. He pushed her toward the edge gently, slowly… and held her there. “Hold on,” he whispered. “Hold on. Let yourself just feel good. You deserve it.” She was fighting it, he could see it in the change in her eyes. She teetered on the edge for a moment, two, and then…
“I… John… I…”
He nodded. “OK. OK.” He had barely spoken when he felt her inner muscles clench around his fingers. Her pleasured moans were music to his ears and he continued to stroke her until she bucked against him, reached to brush his hand away in over-sensitivity. He pulled his fingers out then, covered her body fully with his and kissed her slowly, passionately, until she came back down.
He was aching to be inside her, but he wanted to give her the time and attention she deserved. Delenn’s eyes opened, sated, satisfied - and a million other things. He studied her face, inches away, until she closed the gap, claiming his mouth with her own, her hands running through the hair at the back of his head, tracing down the nape of his neck. He didn’t fight her when she rolled him beneath her.
Being under the study of Delenn’s hands and eyes was possibly John’s favorite part of foreplay. He never quite knew where she was going, what she would do, and he was content to let her play as she wished, for as long as she wished. Tonight, she started with a single finger, racing it down the side of his face, down his neck, across his chest, down to his navel… he hissed in a breath as she dipped further south, eyes closed, head back. Then her hand was gone and when it returned, it was with a full hand, a firmer touch, back up to his face, his neck, his chest.
“You spent so much time studying me,” she murmured. “As your people say, turnabout is fair play.”
“Mmmm,” was the best he could manage for a moment. He licked his lips as his mind sought the reason in her task. “But my body hasn’t changed.”
“Not entirely true.” Her answer surprised him enough that he opened his eyes to give her a confused look. “You are a father now,” she explained. “And while your body may look the same, I have noticed a change in you even if you have not.” Her roving hand found his right nipple and pinched lightly before continuing its journey. “You have changed in your mind and in your heart… you have changed over the years more than you know.”
“I know.” There was just a tinge of sadness in his whispered reply.
“No. I do not think that you do.” Her kiss was full and warm and all-consuming, and her hands were still busy, setting every nerve on edge, slowly driving him toward madness and passion. “When I look at you now, I see a contented man. A family man. A contented family man in a powerful leadership position…” she chuckled at the blush he felt creeping into his cheeks, “But what I see in your eyes now is that you would give up that position in an instant for the people you love. For me. For David. I think of all the incarnations I have seen of John Sheridan, this one is my favorite.”
“I love you.” It was all he could think to say in response.
She said nothing. Her hand dipped below his navel again, and this time when he hissed in pleasure, she did not stop. She reached down and grasped his erection with purpose. “Now,” she whispered, peppering his face with tiny kisses and stroking him once. “Please.”
John smiled up at his wife helplessly, hands balancing on her hips. His thumbs rubbed in slow, firm circles and the expected reaction - a slight arch of her back, eyes closed, a hiss of air in and out - was all he needed to push him over. He pulled Delenn down against him and rolled them so that he was on top once again; let open palms run up her sides in parallel once, slowly, as he looked into her eyes, locked her gaze, lifted up slightly for positioning, and pushed inside.
With so much buildup, he would not let the final act pass quickly. His movements were slow, gentle - filling her fully with each thrust.
It was a surreal moment, as though time had slowed down for them. John was aware of wetness on his brow - sweat - and of wetness against his neck - Delenn’s tears. And then her hand was touching his cheek, her thumb moving in a soothing motion and he realized that he was crying, too. He wished they could stay like this forever, that the end would never come, that they could just make love all night and all day at this leisurely pace for the rest of forever, and that it would always, always, always be as good as it was right now. But the best of times and the worst of times must always reach a breaking point, and this was no exception. When she brought her legs up and wrapped them around his back, he kissed her hard on the lips and gave in for both of them, moving faster, firmer, toward the goal. But always his eyes remained locked with hers -- always, as he felt her internal muscles clench around him; always, as he continued to thrust through her orgasm, trying to bring her higher, staving himself off as long as he could; always, until the very last moment when he couldn’t anymore, and it was so good he had to close his eyes and give himself over to his own release.
There weren’t many words after that. They lay in one another’s arms, lost in their own thoughts of each other, of their future, of their wishes upon wishes that time would just stop right here and now… of their son, the one thing that made them each retract those wishes, the one thing for which they needed time to continue forward.
When he noted that the woman in his arms was asleep, John kissed her forehead and rolled soundlessly out of bed. He used the com unit in the front room to make a hasty call home, confirming David had gone to sleep just fine and Michael Garibaldi had not packed enough wardrobe changes to endure a night with an infant. Laughing to himself at the image of the bald man’s spitup-covered shirt, he returned to the bedroom, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into total darkness. As he blew out the last of them, he smiled to himself.
Today, he thought. Today was a very good day. Today was a day I will remember for the rest of my life. He gave a glance at Delenn’s sleeping face as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was smiling the slightest bit, the way she did when she was comfortably asleep, dreaming of things that made her happy. He reached down to pull a blanket up over them before taking her into his embrace. Her head came to rest instinctively on his chest and he caressed her cheek, her hair, her arm with a touch that was barely there. “I love you.” One last kiss to the crown of her head, a bigger smile on his face.
“I love you, too.” A barely audible whisper against his chest - he thought maybe he’d imagined it. But then she was kissing the skin there, mapping it with her mouth, leaving a wet trail to mark the places she had been and John laughed soundlessly from deep in his belly.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I will always be full of surprises, John Sheridan.” She abandoned her explorations and pulled herself up so that she could fix the kiss to his mouth, and he let her push him down on his back, let her settle her weight on top of him. “We have all night, do we not?” A raise of one eyebrow - he could never argue with that face.
“Yes.” Again, a breathless whisper; no woman had ever had this power over him.
She nodded. “How is David?”
“David is fine. Mr. Garibaldi… will recover in time.”
Delenn chuckled, rocking herself on his pelvis and abandoning discussions of their child. “You have done so much for me tonight. Let me care for you, now.” She latched her mouth to his again, slipped her tongue into his mouth, and John was helpless but to comply with her wishes.
Turnabout is fair play. Mentally, he laughed to himself. He may have smiled into the kiss. It was hard to tell. She was coaxing his nerve endings back to life, and clearly all her focus was on that task, and all his focus was on his feelings.
Maybe the day’s not over yet.
Luckily, it was not required that he give his life this night - only his love, only himself. Lips on lips, hands clasped on either side, fingers interwoven, bodies pressed together - a familiar pose, a comforting position, and yet it was different tonight. Somehow John felt closer to his wife in this moment than he had ever been.
Delenn parted her legs slightly, allowing John to slide one thigh between them. When he did so, she raised her knees to increase contact at the center of their bodies.
“I could spend an eternity just kissing you.” John’s head was in a fog, and the whole of himself was lost in Delenn’s kiss, in her lips, her scent, her… everything. He freed his left hand to bring it up to her face, gently brushing his knuckles over her nose, under her eye, down her cheek, to her chin, and across her lips, where he let his thumb find a soft landing and he just stared at her. She was staring back, smiling - Delenn smiled a lot. John tried to, but sometimes… sometimes he had trouble finding things to smile about. But this, right here in his arms - he was pretty sure he smiled his brightest when she was smiling back at him like that.
“Another time, perhaps,” she breathed, and he could only stare at her for a long moment, speechless. She’d been making him speechless, taking his breath from him since the very first time he saw her. It was a small wonder now that he was ever able to draw a steady breath when she was in the room.
John was vaguely aware of Delenn lifting his hand from her face, kissing the pads of his fingers, leading that hand down along the curve of the side of her body. When she couldn’t reach any further, his hand continued its journey alone, feeling her hip, her thigh, then up and across her knee and slowly, very slowly, up the inside of her right leg. He pushed himself up just slightly so that he could reach the middle of her body, touch where he wanted to touch her, where he knew she wanted to be touched. His eyes locked with hers, holding steady and never breaking away as he slipped two fingers inside her.
She was ready already, he could feel it, and the way she gently moved her hips against his fingers made him break their gaze, bite back desire and stifle an inward groan. “Slow,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers as his fingers continued their ministrations, and he added a third digit even as his thumb came up to graze her most intimate pleasure center, a sure bet - one he prayed would never change. “We have all night.” She whimpered in response, her hips rising to meet his hand, and he nodded in turn, in understanding. “You are so beautiful.” He was studying her face, setting to memory the way all stress was gone from her features, the way her eyes shone up at him under his intimate touch. He pushed her toward the edge gently, slowly… and held her there. “Hold on,” he whispered. “Hold on. Let yourself just feel good. You deserve it.” She was fighting it, he could see it in the change in her eyes. She teetered on the edge for a moment, two, and then…
“I… John… I…”
He nodded. “OK. OK.” He had barely spoken when he felt her inner muscles clench around his fingers. Her pleasured moans were music to his ears and he continued to stroke her until she bucked against him, reached to brush his hand away in over-sensitivity. He pulled his fingers out then, covered her body fully with his and kissed her slowly, passionately, until she came back down.
He was aching to be inside her, but he wanted to give her the time and attention she deserved. Delenn’s eyes opened, sated, satisfied - and a million other things. He studied her face, inches away, until she closed the gap, claiming his mouth with her own, her hands running through the hair at the back of his head, tracing down the nape of his neck. He didn’t fight her when she rolled him beneath her.
Being under the study of Delenn’s hands and eyes was possibly John’s favorite part of foreplay. He never quite knew where she was going, what she would do, and he was content to let her play as she wished, for as long as she wished. Tonight, she started with a single finger, racing it down the side of his face, down his neck, across his chest, down to his navel… he hissed in a breath as she dipped further south, eyes closed, head back. Then her hand was gone and when it returned, it was with a full hand, a firmer touch, back up to his face, his neck, his chest.
“You spent so much time studying me,” she murmured. “As your people say, turnabout is fair play.”
“Mmmm,” was the best he could manage for a moment. He licked his lips as his mind sought the reason in her task. “But my body hasn’t changed.”
“Not entirely true.” Her answer surprised him enough that he opened his eyes to give her a confused look. “You are a father now,” she explained. “And while your body may look the same, I have noticed a change in you even if you have not.” Her roving hand found his right nipple and pinched lightly before continuing its journey. “You have changed in your mind and in your heart… you have changed over the years more than you know.”
“I know.” There was just a tinge of sadness in his whispered reply.
“No. I do not think that you do.” Her kiss was full and warm and all-consuming, and her hands were still busy, setting every nerve on edge, slowly driving him toward madness and passion. “When I look at you now, I see a contented man. A family man. A contented family man in a powerful leadership position…” she chuckled at the blush he felt creeping into his cheeks, “But what I see in your eyes now is that you would give up that position in an instant for the people you love. For me. For David. I think of all the incarnations I have seen of John Sheridan, this one is my favorite.”
“I love you.” It was all he could think to say in response.
She said nothing. Her hand dipped below his navel again, and this time when he hissed in pleasure, she did not stop. She reached down and grasped his erection with purpose. “Now,” she whispered, peppering his face with tiny kisses and stroking him once. “Please.”
John smiled up at his wife helplessly, hands balancing on her hips. His thumbs rubbed in slow, firm circles and the expected reaction - a slight arch of her back, eyes closed, a hiss of air in and out - was all he needed to push him over. He pulled Delenn down against him and rolled them so that he was on top once again; let open palms run up her sides in parallel once, slowly, as he looked into her eyes, locked her gaze, lifted up slightly for positioning, and pushed inside.
With so much buildup, he would not let the final act pass quickly. His movements were slow, gentle - filling her fully with each thrust.
It was a surreal moment, as though time had slowed down for them. John was aware of wetness on his brow - sweat - and of wetness against his neck - Delenn’s tears. And then her hand was touching his cheek, her thumb moving in a soothing motion and he realized that he was crying, too. He wished they could stay like this forever, that the end would never come, that they could just make love all night and all day at this leisurely pace for the rest of forever, and that it would always, always, always be as good as it was right now. But the best of times and the worst of times must always reach a breaking point, and this was no exception. When she brought her legs up and wrapped them around his back, he kissed her hard on the lips and gave in for both of them, moving faster, firmer, toward the goal. But always his eyes remained locked with hers -- always, as he felt her internal muscles clench around him; always, as he continued to thrust through her orgasm, trying to bring her higher, staving himself off as long as he could; always, until the very last moment when he couldn’t anymore, and it was so good he had to close his eyes and give himself over to his own release.
There weren’t many words after that. They lay in one another’s arms, lost in their own thoughts of each other, of their future, of their wishes upon wishes that time would just stop right here and now… of their son, the one thing that made them each retract those wishes, the one thing for which they needed time to continue forward.
When he noted that the woman in his arms was asleep, John kissed her forehead and rolled soundlessly out of bed. He used the com unit in the front room to make a hasty call home, confirming David had gone to sleep just fine and Michael Garibaldi had not packed enough wardrobe changes to endure a night with an infant. Laughing to himself at the image of the bald man’s spitup-covered shirt, he returned to the bedroom, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into total darkness. As he blew out the last of them, he smiled to himself.
Today, he thought. Today was a very good day. Today was a day I will remember for the rest of my life. He gave a glance at Delenn’s sleeping face as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was smiling the slightest bit, the way she did when she was comfortably asleep, dreaming of things that made her happy. He reached down to pull a blanket up over them before taking her into his embrace. Her head came to rest instinctively on his chest and he caressed her cheek, her hair, her arm with a touch that was barely there. “I love you.” One last kiss to the crown of her head, a bigger smile on his face.
“I love you, too.” A barely audible whisper against his chest - he thought maybe he’d imagined it. But then she was kissing the skin there, mapping it with her mouth, leaving a wet trail to mark the places she had been and John laughed soundlessly from deep in his belly.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I will always be full of surprises, John Sheridan.” She abandoned her explorations and pulled herself up so that she could fix the kiss to his mouth, and he let her push him down on his back, let her settle her weight on top of him. “We have all night, do we not?” A raise of one eyebrow - he could never argue with that face.
“Yes.” Again, a breathless whisper; no woman had ever had this power over him.
She nodded. “How is David?”
“David is fine. Mr. Garibaldi… will recover in time.”
Delenn chuckled, rocking herself on his pelvis and abandoning discussions of their child. “You have done so much for me tonight. Let me care for you, now.” She latched her mouth to his again, slipped her tongue into his mouth, and John was helpless but to comply with her wishes.
Turnabout is fair play. Mentally, he laughed to himself. He may have smiled into the kiss. It was hard to tell. She was coaxing his nerve endings back to life, and clearly all her focus was on that task, and all his focus was on his feelings.
Maybe the day’s not over yet.