A Worthwhile Homecoming
Author: Tulip
Rating: NC-17
Category: Romance
Spoilers: Up through The Promised Land
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. They belong to CBS, Bellisario, etc. I'm just borrowing them and not for purposes of profit. Y no tengo dinero.
Feedback: Sure
Archive: Tell me where
As the hearings continue on Capitol Hill concerning the fate of the SecNav, I manage to talk to Clay briefly every day, and we IM each other several times a day. I'm not entirely sure where he is, although it's clearly not Afghanistan, in light of our frequent contact. He tells me that the second the situation is resolved, he's on a plane. We're both getting a little ticked off at all the posturing, and it's become clear to us that Senator Sheffield is putting himself in a position to become the new SecNav.
Clay's tying up some loose ends, as Harm and I get assigned to defend a Marine for desertion. The twist, however, is that he deserted the Corps in order to fight in Israel. He claims he faced anti-Semitism within his unit, which, in his mind, justified going UA. I'm not all that sympathetic, although it's sort of an interesting case. Singer, who's second chairing Sturgis for the prosecution, starts getting all high and mighty, then tells us she's Jewish. Later that night, I relate this to Clay, and tell him I really wonder if she's lying about it. After listening for a few minutes, he informs me he has no interest whatsoever in talking about Singer, and to please take my clothes off. This sets off another round of phone sex for us.
While waiting for something to shake loose so Clay can come home, I go shopping, and it takes me a while to find the perfect dress to wear for when he gets back. I eventually find just the thing in a red strappy silk dress. It's short and shows a lot of skin. I find a pretty crocheted sweater in the same store that matches the dress, and I can pull it on for dinner with Porter. I find some incredible shoes that go with the dress, also very strappy, and sexy. They may end up making me taller than Clay, but I don't think either of us is going to care too much.
I've now had my outfit for a week, and I'm about to call Bobbi Latham to see if she can get her Senatorial colleagues to move it along, a little, when the SecNav finally resigns. He'd been holding out, I think trying to ride it out. However, the President backed off of him, and, without that support, he knew he wasn't going to make it. Secretary Nelson was lucky to be around as long as he was, actually, being a holdover from the previous administration, and all.
A few hours after the SecNav's resignation becomes public, I get a huge arrangement of flowers with a note giving me a date and time to come to Dulles, and telling me to take Friday off, if at all possible. I close my door, and call the airport. I know I'd talked to Clay about pulling him into a bathroom, but, since then, I remembered that most airports have conference facilities. I call to find out if there's a small conference room I could rent. There's one available on Thursday, and I book it. It'll be well worth the money, I'm sure, because I know we won't be able to wait until after dinner with his mother. After I'm done with that, I ask the Admiral if I can take Friday as a personal day. He's distracted, so he says yes without asking why. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say, if he did. I didn't think, "So I could fuck Clay's brains out," would be appropriate, but it's all I can think about, so it's all I could come up with.
I arrange to meet Porter for a late dinner on Thursday night, and she's upset because she can't get a fix on when Clay's coming home. I feel bad that we're pulling the wool over her eyes, to some degree, but we need a little bit of time alone before we see her. She'll be really upset if we don't see her the day Clay gets back, which is why dinner is necessary that same evening. I work on Corporal Maars' case for the next few days, interviewing some of the other Marines who were there. I'm slightly more sympathetic afterwards, actually, because it becomes clear that Maars did, in fact, put up with quite a lot of abuse. I really don't understand why people feel the need to make other people's religion, sex lives, etc. their business. The entire time I'm pondering the case and the philosophical questions that come with it, though, in the back of my mind, I'm counting down the minutes until I see Clay.
Unfortunately, as I'm pondering why all these guys were so hacked off that Maars chose to convert to Judaism, I let slip to Harm that Clay was coming back. He asked about the flowers during this moment of distraction, and I gave him a straight answer about their purpose. Which went beyond merely pleasing me. Harm didn't make any snide remarks, though, which is good.
Thursday finally rolls around, and Clay's plane is due at 1905. At 1730, I go into the bathroom, change clothes, and carefully do my makeup. I'm the last one in the office, besides the Admiral and Sturgis, who're tucked away in their respective offices, so I manage to get out without any commentary. As I'm on my way to the car, I call the airline, and his plane is on time. Thank God. I don't know how much longer I can wait, I'm getting warm just thinking about what we're going to be doing. I park the car, and check in to get the combination to the conference room door. I stash my sweater and keys inside, so he can get the full effect of my dress, before walking down to wait for him. I probably could have pulled some strings to get down to the gate, but I need to keep my plan intact here. I'm getting quite a few stares, standing here, in this dress, which isn't all that appropriate just for picking someone up at the airport. It's beginning to make me a little uncomfortable, and I'm glad when his plane lands.
I'm pretty sure Clay'll be in first class, and I know the gate isn't that far from the end of the concourse, so I start keeping a lookout. I spot him shortly thereafter, walking fast, apparently trying to shake either a coworker or chatty seatmate. I can see him scanning the crowd, and it doesn't take him long before he sees me, about the same time he finally manages to shake off the guy who was talking to him. My nipples get hard in anticipation, and I can see he notices. We smile at each other, and it almost feels like we're the only two people here. I walk a few steps forward, but to the side, a little way out of the traffic, and he meets me. He's reaching out for me as he walks up, so I take another step forward, into his arms, pressing my lips to his. He pulls me close and runs his hands down my mostly bare back. I push my hips into his as I throw my arms around his neck and stroke his hair. His body's response is immediate. After a few minutes, we break apart, breathing hard.
"Welcome home," I say. "Come with me." I take his hand.
"You look incredible, Sarah," he says, following me. "Wherever are we going?"
"Not where you think, actually, I had an inspiration."
"I'm intrigued." I lead us straight back to the conference room and punch in the combination.
Before the door's even closed, I find myself pressed up against the wall, Clay's hands under my skirt. I start unbuttoning his vest. I'm dripping wet, I want him so badly.
"Leave it," he says, kissing me.
"We have dinner..." I continue what I'm doing. We do need to meet Porter, and he can't be a total mess. As we kiss, our tongues rolling over one another, Clay pulls the straps of my dress down over my shoulders, and pushes it to the floor. As I had promised in my e-mail, I'm not wearing anything underneath it. He puts his hands up to my breasts, and strokes them, then pinches my nipples, as I continue getting him unbuttoned, sucking on his tongue. When I've finally got him naked from the waist up, I go for his pants, unzipping them. I put my hand inside, and am surprised, yet very pleased, to find no underwear. I start stroking him, feeling him get harder, as Clay licks the roof of my mouth, and he moves one hand down to my mound.
I'm dying to feel him moving inside me, so I remove my hand, making him moan, "No," into my mouth. I can't get his belt undone, so I have to stop.
"Your belt, hurry," I tell him, as I run my fingernails up and down his chest, paying special attention to his nipples. He gets it undone, and, as soon as I notice his pants are falling down, I yank his hips into me, and put one of my legs around his waist. I pull Clay's mouth back to mine and shove my
tongue past his lips, then grab his cock and tease my folds and my clit with it, before I guide him into me. He adjusts a little, and I lift my other leg around his waist. It becomes necessary for us to stop kissing, as we start to breathe hard. Clay's slamming me into the wall with a ferocity that's making me more turned on than I already was.
I'm trying not to be too vocal, when all I really want to do is cry out. But I don't want to bring security in here, or anything. I know this isn't going to last very long, because I was on the edge when we first started this, but I really don't care. Clay slides his hand between us and presses hard on my clit. That's all it takes for me to climax, and a strong shudder goes through my entire body. I'm vaguely aware of him saying, "Oh, God, Sarah," into my ear, shortly after my orgasm.
When we're both spent, Clay presses me into the wall and kisses me again. This time, our kisses are more tender, because our immediate needs have been met. I eventually put my legs down, and stroke his back down to his butt, as we continue to kiss. After about ten minutes, we break apart, breathing hard.
"Sorry that didn't last very long," Clay says, looking down at my breasts as he strokes them.
"It was great," I say. "And, I've got tomorrow off, so we've got three days."
"I'm glad," he says, kissing me again. This sets off another round for us, and we stand there, sucking and lightly nibbling on each other's lips before delving into each other's mouths. When we break apart again, he asks, "What time is dinner?"
"8:30. I didn't tell her you would be coming. We're meeting in Old Town. I'll leave it up to you whether to call her."
"I think I'll surprise her. I guess we should get dressed. I don't want to be late. And I need to get my bag." We kiss for just a few more minutes, then clean up and get ourselves put back together, although Clay forgoes jacket, vest and tie. We find his bag, and, after he digs some things out of it, which he won't let me see, we get going to meet Porter. It's a little difficult for us to keep our hands off each other, although the fact that I'm driving through traffic in a car with a standard transmission is helping.
Porter's already at the restaurant when we arrive, and I have Clay go in first. I kind of hang back, hoping that she doesn't have a heart attack or anything from the surprise of seeing him. She does make quite a scene, in a good way, and good-naturedly scolds me for not telling her he was coming back today. "Conspiracy does not become you," she says to both of us, laughing.
The two of them are always entertaining together, and we have a great time at dinner. That is, I don't mind that Clay and I can't be alone right now. Clay's brought us gifts back from his travels, and he explains what each thing is. He's been shopping in Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, Russia, and Pakistan. We spend about three hours at the restaurant, and Porter invites us both over for dinner the next night, for Clay's favorite foods. Dinner took place in a booth, and Clay and I are sitting next to each other, across from Porter. There's plenty of touching going on under the table, between the two of us, although I don't let him get too carried away, what with his mother right here. As we finish our coffee after dessert, though, I'm really glad this restaurant is in Alexandria, close to Clay's, so we don't have too far to go.
We barely make it inside the door when we get to Clay's house. He had his hands up my dress on the way up the front steps, and I'm sure if anyone was looking, they would've gotten quite an eyeful. We do manage to make it inside and shut the door, and Clay's punching in the alarm code as I'm undoing his pants from behind. I've got both hands all over him, and he leans back into me as he's ripping his shirt off as he kicks off his shoes. Suddenly, he spins around, pressing me back into the door. He's yanking my dress and sweater over my head, until I'm standing there in my strappy "come fuck me" shoes. I pull him into me and we kiss furiously, like we'll never have another opportunity. I thought we had gotten over our desperation, to some extent, but, obviously, we haven't.
We grind into each other up against the door, and I move my leg around his waist again.
"Sarah, I don't know if I can do this this way twice in one day."
"You poor thing, you must be so jetlagged," I say, kissing him before I turn around. We stay upright for a long while, as Clay places kisses all over my back as he strokes my front. I grind my ass back into his erection, since there's not much else I can do from this position. He keeps touching me over and over again, until I feel like I'm going to explode. "Please, Clay," I say, practically begging him. I start bending over, and Clay's more than happy to slide into me. He keeps one hand at my breasts, pinching at my nipples, and the other is circling around and around my clit. I think I'm way ahead of Clay, and he's got me coming almost immediately.
"Mmmm, Sarah," Clay says, as he feels me clenching around him. He doesn't stop stroking me, but moves faster and faster, pinching at my clit, until we're both climaxing. I stand up and lean against the door, and Clay leans against me. "I really think we need to explore doing this in my bed, the next time."
"You'd get no argument from me," I say. "We still need to get bags out of the car, though."
"I'll do it," he says pulling his pants up and throwing the shirt on, although he doesn't button it. We can't find my keys right away, but they're on the floor, under my dress. He gives me a quick kiss, and runs out the door. I slip my shoes off, grab my clothes, and head upstairs. I find the linen closet, and grab some fresh towels and sheets. By the time I get into the bedroom, Clay's struggling up the stairs with both of our bags.
We start the bath, and make the bed as the water runs. I sit behind Clay, and we soak in the tub a long time and talk about what we've been doing with ourselves. Clay speaks mostly in generalities of course, although he can talk fairly freely with me. We totally lose track of time, and barely realize it when the water gets cold. My starting to shiver finally pulls us back to the present.
We switch to the shower, so we can actually clean off. Clay looks so tired, that I decide we're going to sleep, although I think we're both pretty aroused. It's well after midnight, at this point. We have time now, all weekend. We crawl into bed and curl up together. Clay's asleep in no time. I wake up twice during the night, but I go back to sleep smiling each time, when I realize Clay's with me. At 0830, though, I wake up alone. Clay's set out a robe for me, so I brush my teeth, wash my face, and wander downstairs. I'm not really surprised he woke up early, considering the time zone he's used to.
I find Clay in the kitchen, pulling groceries out of bags. Out of the corner of my eye, as I walk across the room to kiss him, I see that he'd left a note on the counter.
"What time did you get up?" I ask, in between kisses.
"6:10. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I finally got up at like 6:45. And I was hungry, but I didn't have any food."
"How long have you been gone to the grocery store?"
"An hour, but I didn't only go there," he says, producing a bag of Krispy Kremes from behind him.
"Ooh, the bag is still warm. Let's eat now." I kiss him again.
"Oh, I left the coffee in the car. I got Starbucks." He says this in such an excited voice you might think he's never had it before. I recognize the 'I'm finally home' giddiness that comes when you get home after a long time away, where having Starbucks and Krispy Kreme seems like the height of gourmet, only because you couldn't get it where you were.
Clay's back in a flash, with two mochas. We have a delicious breakfast of donuts and coffee. The donuts leave delicious glaze all over my fingers, so I start licking them, but Clay grabs my hand and finishes the job. I give him the same treatment. Before we can take it too much further, Clay pulls me up, and we wash our hands. He also insists on putting some of the groceries away, and I guess I understand, since we don't want anything to go bad or--ooh--any of the three flavors of Ben & Jerry's he bought to melt. I stand behind Clay as he does this, teasing him, by stroking his chest, stomach and hips. When I can see he's almost done, I start undoing his pants. I'm thinking we're not going to be having sex in a bed yet.
"Aren't you done yet?" I whine.
"Yes. Are you always this demanding?" he asks, laughing.
"I want what I want, when I want it," I retort, stroking his cock.
"I think I can live with that, actually," Clay says.
"Okay, take me to the nearest carpeted surface." I can't help but giggle. Clay starts walking, slowly, so I don't have to let go.
He leads me into the living room, and asks, pulling my hands off him and turning around, "On the rug or in the chair?" He points to a large chair on the other side of the room. The other furniture in here looks too fragile to handle any sustained activity. As I'm pondering this, I'm only very vaguely aware that Clay's got the robe untied. I look down when I feel his hands on my breasts. I make my decision.
"The chair," I say, pulling Clay's sweater over his head. When it's off, he leans down to kiss me, giving the robe a push off my shoulders at the same time. He snakes his tongue out to request entrance to my mouth. I don't open it at first, and he bites my lip gently, so I do. I suck on his tongue, and move my hands back to his pants. I finish unbuttoning the fly and push them and his underwear down, then bring my hands to his ass. Our kisses get more insistent, and our touches turn to gropes. It eventually becomes necessary for us to move, and we slowly make our way over to the chair. Clay sits down first, then slips two fingers inside me and pulls me forward.
"Oooh, Clay," I say as he starts moving his fingers and adding his thumb to the mix, circling my clit with it. I move one knee up onto the seat of the chair, but keep the other foot on the ground, as I lean forward so that my breasts are pretty much in his face. He gets the hint, and takes a nipple into his mouth, as he keeps moving his hand. With all of this stimulation, it doesn't take me very long to climax. "God, I'm glad you're back," I say, climbing onto his lap, before I've even caught my breath.
"Me, too," he says, kissing me. "It was torture, being away from you for so long."
"I love you," I respond, stroking him.
"Me," he says, pausing as he enters me, "too."
I smile and look at him as we start moving. I squeeze him every time we thrust into each other, and try to take him as deeply as possible. We start off slow, punctuating our movement with kisses, as we play with each other's nipples. We start to speed up, until we're slamming into each other. We stop kissing, although I'm raking my fingernails over his nipples,
pinching at them, as he does the same thing to me.
"Can you... again?" he pants, moving his hand between us.
"Yes," I reply. I'm extremely close to another orgasm. Clay doesn't have to touch me very long, and, as I feel myself about to come, I whisper, "Let go," in his ear. He does, and I'm right behind him. I fall forward to rest my head on his shoulder, and put my arms around his neck. I feel his arms snake around my waist, and we stay like that for a long time.
I finally climb off, and help Clay up. He shows me to the powder room on the first floor, and we clean up. We head back upstairs, Clay puts on some music, and we curl up under a huge blanket on a couch in an alcove in his room. I hadn't even noticed it last night, although, in my defense, I was a little distracted. We pretty much spend the entire day talking,
interspersed from time to time with fooling around. It's so nice to spend time together, totally naked. During one of our breaks from talking, we decide to move to the bed. Clay's lying on top of me as we're making out like two kids in a movie theatre or something, and the phone rings.
"Hello?" Clay asks, clearly puzzled that someone would be calling. He pauses. "Yeah, she's here. Can it wait? ... Okay." He hands me the phone, and I can't imagine who it is, until I realize it has to be Harm. He's the only person who'd know to find me here.
'Sorry,' I mouth to Clay. "Harm, what do you need?" Clay doesn't stop what he's doing, causing quite a distraction as he pays very close attention to my breasts, sucking hard on one nipple, then the other.
"Mac, I'm really sorry to bother you on your day off, but I have really exciting news. It'll just take a second."
"What's so exciting?" Besides what Clay's doing to me, that is.
"The Admiral's sending Singer to the Seahawk."
Clay sticks his tongue in my navel, making me giggle. "That's so..." I'm a little too distracted to think of
a word.
"Cool, awesome, great, fabulous, fantastic, excellent, bitchin'..."
"Okay, Mr. Thesaurus. Yes, it's great. When does she leave?" Harm laughs.
"Not soon enough. She's not getting any new cases, and she's on the fast track to wrap up what can be. I think the Maars case will probably be her last one, in court, anyway."
Clay slips between my legs, and I pull my knees up. I jerk and exhale when I feel his tongue on me. I'm trying really hard to think of a non-pornographic excuse to get off the phone. I've got it.
"Listen, Harm, we're due at Porter's in a little bit. I need to get ready. Thanks for the great news, uh, ... though."
"Talk to you later, then."
"Bye, Harm." I click the phone off and throw it behind me.
Clay stops what he's doing. "What was so urgent?"
"Great news," I say, sitting up. "Lieutenant Singer's getting assigned to the Seahawk," I say happily, as I crawl towards him, and coax him into turning over.
"Is she that big a pain in the ass?"
"Worse than you when we first started working together." I make it clear that I'm teasing.
"Ouch, Sarah. That hurts!" He's smiling, though. It's not even like he's the same person now.
"Oh, even thought I thought you were kind of a pain, I always found something a little lovable about you. We've all improved greatly since then, I think." I lean down to lick the tip of his cock.
"I'll forgive you if you keep doing that."
"Oh, you'd forgive me anyway, I think," I say, moving my body over his, so that he can continue what he was doing while I was on the phone, and I can finish what I just started.
"Oooh, Sarah, kinky," he says, before sucking on my clit. I take him all the way into my mouth then let go and blow across the tip of his cock. I feel him moan, then slide two fingers into me. I move my mouth down to his balls and suck and kiss my way around for a few minutes, before turning my attention back to his penis. I alternate licking and sucking my way up and
down the shaft, with taking it all the way in and sucking. My body feels like it's on fire between feeling Clay move into my mouth, and the sensation of him sucking and tonguing my clit. He licks his way down to my opening, and switches his tongue with his fingers. I move my mouth so that just the tip of Clay's cock is on my tongue, then I fasten my lips around it and suck. He says something, I think, I can feel the vibration, but I have no idea what it was. He replaces his tongue with his fingers again, and sucks my clit into his mouth, hard. The suction he's creating is amazing, so I take him all the way back in my mouth and try to do the same thing for him. I'm climaxing so hard about thirty seconds later that I'm yelling around him. This enables me to take him in just a little deeper, and he explodes shortly after that. I swallow everything, then lick him as I let go.
I've been holding myself up on my elbows, and I have to let myself down, laying my head on Clay's thigh. I feel his fingers stroking the back sides of both of my legs. "I think we should definitely do that again sometime," Clay says.
I roll off of him, and move so that I'm lying next to him. He moves over to put his head on my chest. "You'd get no argument from me. And, hey, you know, we finally managed to have some sexual activity in an actual bed." He laughs.
"I'm always open to experimentation, Sarah, but on a cot or in a shipboard bunk is certainly not ideal."
"True. But I wouldn't have had it any other way." I feel him nod.
"I think I need a nap, but we need to be at Mother's probably around 5 or so." He leans over me to set the alarm, and we doze off.
We have a lovely dinner at Porter's, featuring a rather eclectic mix of dishes, including homemade macaroni and cheese and lobster thermidor. She really went all out, and we have tons of leftovers to take back with us. We may not even have to call for takeout for the next few days. Clay and I pretty much spend the rest of the weekend in bed, talking and making love, and we spend quite a bit of time in the bath on Sunday. We filled the bathroom with candles, and made liberal use of the jets to ease our tired muscles, none of these particular muscles having gotten much use lately. We're so exhausted that we end up crashing about 2000, after planning to make a thorough test of my bed the next night.
The next week is spent preparing for Maars' trial, and in trial. I started off with some empathy for him, in light of the abuse he took, but it appears he neglected to tell us everything, and we're blindsided during the trial. Neither Harm nor I is happy about this, because our defense gets blown out of the water by testimony about him being rejected by his mother for converting and his girlfriend because her parents didn't think he was Jewish enough. In other words, it looks like he ran away from his problems. It all ends up okay, though. Maars was found guilty, but he didn't get as harsh of a sentence as he could have, or as Singer wanted. I still have my doubts that she's Jewish, actually, but, she'll be gone soon enough, and we shouldn't have to worry too much about her.
Clay and I spend our evenings more or less in bed, although we make a little trip to a hardware store on Monday night to get keys made for each other. He likes my bed frame, as I find out, and we take turns tying each other up, but not too tight, with some of my scarves. I've never really experimented like this before, and he says he hasn't either, but it's really fun. I think for the first time in my life, I truly trust the man I'm with, and it's making me feel very free. I just hope our jobs don't separate us too soon, I'm really liking having him around, although I'm very tired and sore. We can rest up this weekend, I think to myself, knowing full well that's probably not going to happen. Like I care! There's a lot of lost time to make up for.
