Pizza Night

master thespian

She stood in front of the closed door, looking surprised.

There was much to say, but he didn’t feel like talking. He took a step towards her and closed the gap between them. His face was only inches from hers. His breath grazed her cheek as he looked into her eyes. This time he would not look away.

It was her night off and she was waiting for the pizza guy. The medium vegetarian had become a sort of pick-me-up on her nights off. Since ‘The Hank Fiasco,’ she hadn’t been interested in going out. She hadn’t loved Hank but he had hurt and embarrassed her. When it ended Sara had resolved to never again get into a relationship simply to avoid being alone.

She had tried to grab the ‘brass ring’ by asking Grissom out, but he had refused saying, “I don’t know what to do about ‘this.’” That had frustrated her and she had made a second resolution – she would try being the pursued instead of the pursuer for a change! Unfortunately, that had led to a very dull social life.

To keep busy, Sara could usually finagle some overtime on one of her two weekly days off, but she was forced by County regulations to take one 24-hour period away from CSI per week and that had become pizza night.

Sara opened the door without looking and said, “Hold on a sec…” as she turned back to the hall table to get her wallet. She had just gotten out of the shower and her hair was wet. She was wearing an old pair of grey sweat pants and a faded grey Harvard t-shirt that was speckled with dried green paint.

He waited patiently at the door until she turned around and tried to pay him. Then her routine was turned upside down when she realized she was not handing her crisp $20 bill to a pimply-faced 18-year-old but to a casually-dressed, serious-looking, Grissom.

Without a word, he took the $20, walked past her into her apartment and closed the door behind him. He deposited the pizza on the table and the money on her purse then turned to face her, taking her hands in his, and said earnestly, “I hope I’m not too late.”

He looked directly into her eyes for several moments and smiled. Her hands were trembling slightly. Finally, he leaned into her, maintaining eye contact as long as possible, sensitive to any hint that the move was not welcome. But ever the scientist he noted that her breathing had become shallow and her brown eyes were smoky. She was not moving away. She was not moving at all. Only when he would have gone cross-eyed from staring into her soul did he close his eyes and kiss her gently.

A jolt ran through them both as their lips touched and he brushed his sideways, teasingly, against hers. He kissed her like he had kissed his first girl at the age of 12; their mouths closed, barely touching, innocently enjoying the feel of a thousand nerve endings stroking each other. Her mouth was soft and wet and the sensation was bliss.

Soon he needed more of her and his hands moved into her wet hair, massaging the base of her neck.

He realized she was hesitating and he began to pull away but before their lips had parted her hands were around his waist and Sara’s mouth began making hungry demands of its own. Her lips were the first to part, and his tongue entered her mouth tentatively. Hers was not so afraid and they groaned simultaneously as their tongues introduced themselves.

As the fire between them grew, their hands became bold. His moved from her hair to lay claim to her waist, pulling her firmly against him. One of hers entwined itself in his hair while the other ran up and down his back.

His fingers itched to touch her skin and his hand slipped itself down under the elastic of her sweatpants, stroking the flesh of her hip. He exhaled in satisfaction. His fingers were touching a part of her body he had seen only in dreams. The heat of that touch shocked them both and they stopped kissing briefly to look at each other, foreheads touching.

But that was still not enough contact for him and he leaned his body into hers, pushing her back against the closed door, forcing them together from stem to stern, looking into those beautiful brown eyes. He saw desire there - desire but something else, too – fear? He smiled and stroked the hair at her temple, hoping the loving gesture would convey what words alone could not. That he wanted her. That he needed her.

He moved towards her lips but faked to the left and licked her neck below the ear. Sara gasped and laughed in surprise. Grissom continued down her throat determined to kiss, suck and nibble each freckle.

His hands slid up the back of her loose t-shirt. Each found a shoulder blade and he pulled her chest towards his wandering mouth. He could see her erect nipples through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. His mouth chose her left side and he exhaled a hot breath on the tender tissue, sending a shiver through her body.

Sara pulled away and looked down at him, her eyes smiling lustily. She licked her bottom lip and took a step sideways, forcing him to release his grasp on her. As he stood up straight his hands fell to his sides and she reached for one, holding it in both of hers, bringing it to her lips to kiss each fingertip. Finally, she eased his thumb in her mouth and sucked on it playfully. Then she moved behind him and nudged him towards her bedroom.

The distance from the front door was no more than forty feet but they were forced to stop twice, kissing deeply, fumbling like teenagers, overtaken by need.

When they finally made it to the bedroom Sara climbed onto the unmade bed, pushing the top sheet and comforter towards the footboard. She positioned herself on her knees, facing Grissom. Their eyes were level and there was a moment during which there was no contact between them. Grissom rectified that by reaching out and caressing her cheek and the dance of love started again.

They were both fully clothed and Sara decided to do something about it. She wanted his skin against hers and she lifted her arms to allow Grissom to remove her t-shirt. He didn’t need urging - his hands ran up her sides, tickling her. He cocked an eyebrow at her new-found weakness, made a mental note to exploit it later, and continued until the shirt was over her head and on the floor. Then he stared openly at her naked chest. “I guess the pizza guy doesn’t warrant a bra.” he thought as he cupped a breast in each hand and let his thumbs trace her nipples.

Sara paused briefly to enjoy his ministrations, but she was single-minded and having dealt with the first obstacle to full body contact, she was keen to get Grissom’s short-sleeve dress shirt off, too. She began to work the buttons but gave up and impatiently took his lapels in her hands and pulled violently. Buttons flew around the room as the fabric tore. He laughed and Sara began to blush, embarrassed by her need. But Grissom didn’t give her time for regret – he pulled her against his now naked chest and eased her backwards onto the bed.

He lay half on top of her, running his hand up and down her flushed, naked torso, pausing at her jaw line. He kissed her neck tracing a pleasure path to her right breast where he took the pert nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. He was rewarded with a groan that came from her depths and a throaty utterance that might have been his name…

“Grissom…”

He had begun to slide a hand down the back of her pants when she surprised him by pushing him off her and getting on top. Now straddling his mid-section, she could enjoy the power of his arousal through the fabric of his trousers. He heightened her pleasure by sliding his hands up her flat stomach until he found her breasts again. Her fingers explored his body, strumming their way up his torso, massaging his stomach, then tugging gently on his chest hairs. He groaned when she licked her fingertips and tweaked his nipples. All the while, she looked into his eyes and carefully shifted her body weight on top of him to better feel his growing firmness underneath her.

When her hands reached his neck she leaned forward on top of him and kissed him full and wet on the lips, then sat up slowly, allowing her hair to seductively caress his face. He closed his eyes and sighed, moving his hands to her inner thighs.

She smiled, enjoying her power over him, and undid his belt and zipper. Access achieved, she reached underneath the cotton of his boxer-briefs and touched him. She was touching him. She was really touching him. Her fingers grazed down his length and she exerted gentle pressure on the orbs at its base. He inhaled deeply and his pelvis lifted involuntarily towards her hand. Sara took the opportunity to shimmy his pants and shorts off him and, ever thorough, reached behind her to get rid of his socks.

He was now completely naked, but instead of feeling vulnerable, he felt powerful. He was naked and she wanted him. It was time to make it even. He needed to see all of her.

He put his arms around her bottom and sat up, leaving her sitting on his lap. Then, like a see saw, he pushed her back and he was on top with his face between her breasts. He kissed and licked her breastbone and abdomen down to the band of her sweat pants. His hands had moved to her hips but he used his chin to move the elastic out of his way as he continued moving southward.

She couldn’t believe where he was heading but she wanted to help him get there and she lifted her butt. “I guess the pizza guy doesn’t warrant panties, either!” Grissom chuckled to himself.

His hands got rid of the sweats and he was staring at a neatly shaved patch of frizzy hair. He nuzzled his nose into the new territory, inhaling her muskiness, and invited her legs to part by kissing her swelling lips.

She was moist and he licked the bounty from her, edging his tongue inside her for more.

“Gr-gris-issom…” she panted as her hands clenched the bed sheets.

He tried to keep her still by holding her at the waist. She wanted to comply, desperate to feel every lick and suck, but her body could not. It squirmed briefly away from him each time the pleasure got too intense. When it did Grissom would turn his attention to her inner thighs and then move upwards again, slowly edging back towards the honey pot.

She tasted sweet and he could not get enough of her. Every groan and gasp she uttered poured fuel on the fire of his desire. He was enraptured with the feel of her doughy thighs rubbing against his cheeks and her ankles, like spurs, digging into his lower back.

He sucked and teased her, determined to wordlessly show her everything she had meant to him for so long, but before he could succeed he heard her beg him to stop.

“Grissom – please. Stop. Please.”

He did, and looked up over her prone body.

“I want you inside of me.”

He smiled knowingly for he wanted the same thing and allowed his tongue one last probative lick before trailing kisses up her body. He gave extra attention to her neck before finally reaching her lips to kiss her urgently.

He whispered in her ear. “I want you to be mine.”

Sara grinned.

“Say it. Say that you’re mine,” he demanded.

“I’m yours - for the taking.”

And take her he did. She opened herself to him and guided him inside her. Grissom could not keep from saying her name. “Sara…”

Despite the urgency of their desire their love-making began slowly. They wanted to look at each other and savor the feeling of that first moment of union. They moved together as Grissom thrust into her deeply and then teased her by barely penetrating her at all. Her hands roamed his back and she ran her fingers through his hair, bucking and shuddering as he brought her closer to the precipice.

Their pace accelerated and when she could hold out no longer, Sara let go, throwing her head back and exhaling his name. He took the cue and let himself go inside her.

Neither wanted the joining to end, so Grissom stayed inside her, propping himself on one arm, stroking her now sweaty hair. When he could no longer support his own weight above her, he rolled to her side and she did the same, facing him, entwining her legs in his. He welcomed the continued contact by draping an arm around her.

They lay together without speaking for some time.

“I’m glad you finally figured out what to do about this,” Sara teased.

He was quiet. Finally he said: “It wasn’t an easy decision. I don’t want to lose you. As friends I could have you in my life forever, but as lovers… who knows?”

“What changed your mind?”

“I realized that by trying to remain friends I was losing you anyway.”

“Any regrets?”

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “I regret not doing this eight years ago.” And he smiled widely and tickled her.

She laughed and squirmed at his touch, then surprised him again by rolling on top of him and pinning his arms over his head.

“If I’m yours, you’re mine.”

“Naturally.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours, Sara.”

Satisfied in every way she flopped down on top of him and stayed there. When they had started to drift off to sleep Grissom spoke again: “So I guess it’s safe to say that I wasn’t too late?” he asked groggily.

Her quiet snoring was his only reply.

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