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numb3rs_fic
Title: Ten Imaginary Women
Pairing/Characters: Megan/Colby, Megan/Ian, Megan/Billy, Megan/Liz, Megan/Amita, Megan/Nikki, Megan/Don, Megan/Charlie, Megan/Ray, Megan/Larry
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Seasons 1-4
Summary: Imaginary Megan makes an excellent masturbatory fantasy for a lot of people
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Colby found his back on the mat - again. This time, instead of offering him a hand up after defeating him with her Krav Maga, Megan came down to him, straddling his legs with a wicked grin as she undid the drawstring on his sweatpants. He'd feel sore all over tomorrow, but right now Megan's warm wet mouth was worth taking a beating over.
Ian opened the SUV's back door to put his gear in and found Megan waiting for him, laying stark naked on his back seat, eyebrow raised as if in dare to see if he'd really do her here with just tinted windows to protect them from discovery. He put his rifle case and Kevlar vest in the back, leaving the rest of his tac gear on. Then he climbed in, locked the doors and covered her with his body - those long luscious legs wrapping around his waist and that delicious heat enveloping his cock totally worth it.
Billy turned his last shot glass upside down; Megan did the same then showed him up by taking a swig from the almost empty bottle. When he kissed her in the cab she countered by devouring his mouth so wantonly the taxi driver almost veered off the road watching them in the rearview mirror. When they got back to his hotel he pulled her from the elevator to his room, teasing with seductive touches until he got her inside and she pushed him to the mattress, straddled him and rode him hard: a classic overachiever.
Liz worked undercover willingly as part of her job, but playing hooker sucked unless Megan did it with her. Megan in a mini-skirt and fuck-me boots, with those lean tanned legs, was a bad distraction during the op. But after the op, Megan naked in fuck-me boots and a strap-on, pushing up Liz's skimpy dress as she pressed her into the lockers, was just the right kind of distraction.
Amita liked playing teacher and Megan made a good student: she sat quietly in her chair during instruction, she showed up promptly for her appointments during Amita's office hours and accepted her discipline when she got a poor grade on an assignment. The ruler in Amita's hand made a satisfying smack every time it connected with Megan's tender ass, which looked so pretty as she bent over Amita's desk, flushed pink where she'd struck it. Amita tried to be patient and not touch herself as she seesawed the dildo inside Megan - denying her orgasm as long as she could by going tantalizingly slow - but as always, she failed.
Nikki wasn't sure if this was the kind of training Don had in mind when he sent her back to Quantico for a supposed refresher. She had to pause to gasp for air, lifting her head from between Megan's thighs, as Megan shoved two fingers in her cunt and one in her ass. Nikki had learned this maneuver a long time ago, but she couldn't brag about how much she'd improved at it while Megan's flicking tongue and fucking fingers were making it impossible to form words.
Don always got a high out of wresting a confession out of a recalcitrant perp and Megan was no different. Since he'd tag teamed with Megan on this one they both were bouncing off the walls after they'd turned him over for processing. They told David they were going out for a celebratory drink, but they ended up at Megan's - slamming into the walls as they tore at each other's clothing, unable to wait until they were fully naked before Don was driving into her, hips jackhammering as she bit his ear, fingernails leaving stinging crescents in his back.
Charlie had been up for two days straight when Megan - waiting for his latest equation - got the call that the perp they were trying to track had committed suicide by cop. She dragged him upstairs to his room, took his shoes off and put him to bed, sliding in beside him. His body was still too tense with adrenaline to sleep so she slipped a hand into his pants leaving him gasping into her mouth at her lethal touch and sending him off to slumber with a blissful smile on his face.
Ray relished everyone's eyes on them as he escorted Megan into the faculty ball, his hand firmly and possessively on the small of her back, her gown baring acres of incredibly soft skin he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of. A five star hotel men's room wasn't an optimal place for sex, but the boiler room was perfect - hot from more than just pipe steam and as dirty as Megan's mouth as she taunted him with what she wanted him to do to her. He buried his face in her neck as he sank inside her with a groan, the rustle of fabric bunched at her waist and the whisper quiet moans of his name lost in the mechanical clanking noises of machinery.
Larry's no stranger to long distance relationships, but the packages are new. Megan mails him toys, the likes of which he's never seen, and then phones him with explicit instructions on what she wants him to do to himself while she listens. When he tells her he fears he's on his way to breaking a third headset upon receipt of a vibrating prostate massager, his musings are drowned out by her delighted laughter from 3000 miles away.
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Title: Ten Imaginary Women
Pairing/Characters: Megan/Colby, Megan/Ian, Megan/Billy, Megan/Liz, Megan/Amita, Megan/Nikki, Megan/Don, Megan/Charlie, Megan/Ray, Megan/Larry
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Seasons 1-4
Summary: Imaginary Megan makes an excellent masturbatory fantasy for a lot of people
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Colby found his back on the mat - again. This time, instead of offering him a hand up after defeating him with her Krav Maga, Megan came down to him, straddling his legs with a wicked grin as she undid the drawstring on his sweatpants. He'd feel sore all over tomorrow, but right now Megan's warm wet mouth was worth taking a beating over.
Ian opened the SUV's back door to put his gear in and found Megan waiting for him, laying stark naked on his back seat, eyebrow raised as if in dare to see if he'd really do her here with just tinted windows to protect them from discovery. He put his rifle case and Kevlar vest in the back, leaving the rest of his tac gear on. Then he climbed in, locked the doors and covered her with his body - those long luscious legs wrapping around his waist and that delicious heat enveloping his cock totally worth it.
Billy turned his last shot glass upside down; Megan did the same then showed him up by taking a swig from the almost empty bottle. When he kissed her in the cab she countered by devouring his mouth so wantonly the taxi driver almost veered off the road watching them in the rearview mirror. When they got back to his hotel he pulled her from the elevator to his room, teasing with seductive touches until he got her inside and she pushed him to the mattress, straddled him and rode him hard: a classic overachiever.
Liz worked undercover willingly as part of her job, but playing hooker sucked unless Megan did it with her. Megan in a mini-skirt and fuck-me boots, with those lean tanned legs, was a bad distraction during the op. But after the op, Megan naked in fuck-me boots and a strap-on, pushing up Liz's skimpy dress as she pressed her into the lockers, was just the right kind of distraction.
Amita liked playing teacher and Megan made a good student: she sat quietly in her chair during instruction, she showed up promptly for her appointments during Amita's office hours and accepted her discipline when she got a poor grade on an assignment. The ruler in Amita's hand made a satisfying smack every time it connected with Megan's tender ass, which looked so pretty as she bent over Amita's desk, flushed pink where she'd struck it. Amita tried to be patient and not touch herself as she seesawed the dildo inside Megan - denying her orgasm as long as she could by going tantalizingly slow - but as always, she failed.
Nikki wasn't sure if this was the kind of training Don had in mind when he sent her back to Quantico for a supposed refresher. She had to pause to gasp for air, lifting her head from between Megan's thighs, as Megan shoved two fingers in her cunt and one in her ass. Nikki had learned this maneuver a long time ago, but she couldn't brag about how much she'd improved at it while Megan's flicking tongue and fucking fingers were making it impossible to form words.
Don always got a high out of wresting a confession out of a recalcitrant perp and Megan was no different. Since he'd tag teamed with Megan on this one they both were bouncing off the walls after they'd turned him over for processing. They told David they were going out for a celebratory drink, but they ended up at Megan's - slamming into the walls as they tore at each other's clothing, unable to wait until they were fully naked before Don was driving into her, hips jackhammering as she bit his ear, fingernails leaving stinging crescents in his back.
Charlie had been up for two days straight when Megan - waiting for his latest equation - got the call that the perp they were trying to track had committed suicide by cop. She dragged him upstairs to his room, took his shoes off and put him to bed, sliding in beside him. His body was still too tense with adrenaline to sleep so she slipped a hand into his pants leaving him gasping into her mouth at her lethal touch and sending him off to slumber with a blissful smile on his face.
Ray relished everyone's eyes on them as he escorted Megan into the faculty ball, his hand firmly and possessively on the small of her back, her gown baring acres of incredibly soft skin he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of. A five star hotel men's room wasn't an optimal place for sex, but the boiler room was perfect - hot from more than just pipe steam and as dirty as Megan's mouth as she taunted him with what she wanted him to do to her. He buried his face in her neck as he sank inside her with a groan, the rustle of fabric bunched at her waist and the whisper quiet moans of his name lost in the mechanical clanking noises of machinery.
Larry's no stranger to long distance relationships, but the packages are new. Megan mails him toys, the likes of which he's never seen, and then phones him with explicit instructions on what she wants him to do to himself while she listens. When he tells her he fears he's on his way to breaking a third headset upon receipt of a vibrating prostate massager, his musings are drowned out by her delighted laughter from 3000 miles away.
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