Chapter 32: The Sort of Virgin
And then there was waiting. Waiting for the results, four hours. All was good on that front, much to no one's surprise. Depo Provera, or any hormonal birth control, for that matter, isn't the sort of thing you can just fetch and start using as soon as you like. So there was waiting for Abby's period to show up, to wander off, for the doctor's appointment that last day, and then one more day for it to fully kick in.
Okay, so it wasn't nine years, or two for that matter, and it wasn't like there was no sex at all, but Tim was really looking forward to saying goodbye to the condoms.
Finally, after a day of work that seemed to go on and on and on some more, he was back at his place, on his sofa, with Abby in his lap, kissing her intently.
She pulled back and unzipped his pants, and he looked up at her, kissing her again. "So, the thing is, this might be really fast."
"McGee?" She's looking at him, not understanding why he'd say that.
He looks a little chagrinned. "I've never done this without a condom."
"Never?" Curiosity replaces lack of understanding.
He shakes his head. "Never."
"You're a virgin!" And full on bubbly Abby excitement replaces curiosity.
He half shrugs. "I guess, sort of... But... anyway, I understand it's a lot more intense without one, so... things might be faster than usual."
"I can deal with that." She stands up, smiling gently, and he looks at her, question in his eyes. "Come on, if we're gonna deflower you, we might as well do it right, you know, in bed." She holds out her hand to him, and begins to loosen one of her pigtails with the other.
"Candlelight, flowers, and love poetry, too?"
She giggles. "Don't press your luck."
He sticks out his tongue at her, stands up, and gives her his hand. "I write you love poems."
"You're a writer," she says while they walk into his room. "The next time you want romantic lab work done, I'm your girl."
"What would romantic lab work be?" he asks while unbuttoning his shirt. She faces him, kissing his throat, and chest, shooing his hands away, taking over removing his clothing.
"I have no idea. Hearts on your computer keyboard?"
He smiles and kisses the side of her neck that doesn't have her hair falling down on it. "I'll hold you to that. I want little black hearts on my keyboard."
"Somehow I don't see you putting little pink ones on my keyboard."
"Prepare to be amazed, McGee. I shall romance you in the lab beyond your imagination." Her hands drop to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning, finishing what she had started a few minutes ago. He kicks off the pants and toes off his socks, while Abby slowly drew her shirt over her head.
She had on the little red bra. It's all lace with demi cups, and he adores how she looks in it. His hands span her back and pull her close. "Keep the bra on?"
"I can do that."
He unbuttons the fly on her jeans, and skims the red and black plaid fabric down her legs, pulling them gently over each foot as she balances on one and then the other. Tim kisses he thighs, her belly, and over her panties, also red and lacy.
"I love you in red. You look so amazing like this."
Her lips spread into a wide, pleased smile. "Thanks. Maybe I'll do my hair red one day."
Tim stands, pulling her flush to his chest, and grinds against her. "You feel how much I like that idea? Not saying I don't like your black hair, but I'd love to see you with red." He kisses her, sweetly this time, "I'd love to see your real hair color, too."
She strokes his face, fingers skimming cheekbones and eyebrows. Then she squirms out of her panties and gracefully falls back onto the bed.
He all but leaps after her, landing next to her, making the bed creak in protest. He's on his side, and so is she, his penis between her legs as they kiss and pet. Talking a little, making love a little, enjoying each other and not hurrying.
He likes being cradled between her legs, always has, it's warm and soft and snug, and he can thrust a bit to keep things focused properly. This time though, she hooks her leg over his hip, scooting down an inch so he's right against her, wet pubic hair tickling him, enticing him, and he sighs, knowing he doesn't have to roll over and fetch a condom.
Abby rolls him on top of her.
"Thought you might want to be able to control your speed and depth."
"Probably a good idea."
She reaches between them and gives him a little help on getting the right angle. For a moment he just waits, because for the first time he can actually feel what it's like to be touching her and anticipate slipping in. It's wet and hot, and the softest thing he's ever felt, and just being against her feels better than he thought anything possibly could.
She kisses him sweetly, and pushes her hips at him. "It's even better inside."
He nods, biting his lip, looking into her eyes, and eases forward. He inhales sharply, almost whistling and exhales a long "Oh..." He settles into her, holding still, not too afraid of getting off instantly, but he definitely wants to enjoy this. He wants to fully feel it, so he can remember all of it.
"You're so beautiful right now," she says stroking his face.
"God... That's... really nice."
"Really nice?" She's grinning, enjoying sharing this with him.
His eyes close, and he tries to focus. He's having a hard time talking. Tony's comment about not remembering his name would be springing to mind if he could remember it. "Ask me later, when I can think."
She kisses him, and he begins to move, tentatively. Mostly just getting used to how hot and wet and slick she is. With a condom, there's just the sensation of warmth, pressure, and glide. And warm and pressure and glide are nice, but this is... This is beyond words good.
Her legs wrap around his hips and he can slip in a little deeper, and yeah, that's even better. He tries a few really fast strokes, and decides for right now that's too much of a good thing. Slow gives him time to really feel, and he's enjoying that.
He lowers himself fully onto her, knowing he can't do that for too long without squishing her, but for right now he wants her whole body against his.
He's not really moving, he's just lying there, in her, feeling her on and around him.
He kisses her again, murmuring, "I love you, Abby," against her lips.
"Love you, too, Tim."
He thrusts again, slow, feeling her body clinging to his, sliding wetly along him. "God, this is so good. Love you, Abby. Love this. Just, fuck, love."
She kisses him again, her tongue wet and soft and slow, and he rolls her on top of them.
"Want to see you, all of you, as well as feel you."
She straddles him, his hands on her hips, giving her a good idea of what speed he wants, still slow, and she begins to finger herself, which is almost too much erotic input at one time. He takes her hands in his, kissing them. "Promise, you can do that later, but I'll get off if I watch you do it now."
"I don't mind if you get off."
"I do. I don't want this to end."
He sits up, holding her hands behind her back, face to face and belly to belly with her. "Want to touch all of you, too." He turns them a little, so he can see them in the mirror over the dresser.
He holds her close to him, kissing her, staring in her eyes, and periodically looking at her in the mirror. "Love this, I can feel you all over and see you at the same time."
"Love you, too."
They say that, a lot, and move slowly, for a long time, a very long time. And eventually he does lay back down, his hands on her hips, her fingers on herself, and he watches and thrusts and feels enveloped in an almost glowing orgasm. Like she was transmuted from flesh to light, and rising and falling on him became pure soul, and Tim might not be a terribly religious or spiritual man, but right that second he believed in angels with all of his heart.
Later, as she snuggled up next to him, and he discovered the highly overrated joys of laying on the wet spot he said to her, "That was worth waiting thirty-five years for."