"On and On" by Holdouttrout (original) (raw)

Title: On and On
Author: holdouttrout
Primary Character(s): Sam Carter
'Ship to be Included: Any/None
Acceptable Humour/Fluff Level: some/Lots
Prompt: In the briefing room.
Summary and Notes: This is just a quickie. You know, for fun. Sam gets bored during a meeting.

Sam was not paying attention. Sam had her eyes focused on her the notes in front of her, and she was pretending to follow along with the ridiculously monotonous ramblings of Michael Grey from the budget department while he proclaimed, in great detail, that there would be no new pencils this year.

She noted, with bitter envy, that Daniel and Teal'c were quietly passing notes back and forth. She only wished she were on the same side of the table, but Michael had sat down next to her.

Jack had his head propped up on one hand, but looked mostly asleep, and General Hammond had escaped for an "Important phone call from the Pentagon," that Sam suspected was really his nieces.

Which left her.

She had, at first, thought that someone ought to pay attention. But the more Michael droned on, and on, and on...the more she realized that this meeting could have consisted of the words, "Colonel O'Neill, please stop throwing pencils at the ceiling and doing anything else where you misuse government property."

She glared at the reason they were all here. Discreetly. His eyes closed, unaware of the animosity being sent his way.

Sam sighed.

She leaned back in her chair, and the seam of her pants rubbed against her.

She drew in a breath. Of course she'd be...aroused today. Of all days.

Her hips shifted. Oh, but that felt good.

She let her mind wander a bit, keeping the seam pressed tight against herself. She thought of hands brushing her skin, fingers grasping, and pulling, and threading through her hair...

She adjusted her weight in the chair, pulling forward so she was as far under the table as she could get. She let her hand rest between her legs and tentatively crooked her thumb, brushing the knuckle across the seam.

Oh. Oh, yes. This could work.

She looked around. Everyone was still bored, focused on their own distractions. She was seriously contemplating masturbating in the briefing room--in a meeting, and part of her was shocked.

Part of her was turned on as hell.

That part thought this idea was better than when she moved fingers quietly through the dark off-world, climaxing silently in her tent while the others slept just a few feet away. This was...dangerous, and part of Sam found that very attractive.

Sam started to get frustrated at the angle and the clothing in between her fingers and what they really wanted.

Hmmm...Carefully, she undid the buttons on her pants. It would have to be quick, then--Michael had been talking for a very long time already, and there were no guarantees.

She imagined...someone...dropping a pen, diving under the briefing table. By some miracle, no one noticed he--she--he was gone.

Sam put her other hand--the one not slowly wriggling under her panties--on her knee, pretended to force her legs apart.

She went rigid. In her fantasy, strong fingers traveled up her thighs--she would have to be wearing a skirt for this to work--and played against thin cotten for a few moments. Then, a long/short/shorter hair against her legs, the fingers pulling back to trace the edges of her stockings, then withdrawing completely to settle around her hips and pull her forward, just slightly.

She wouln't be able to keep completely silent, and she didn't today, either, as her fingers met hot, wet flesh. But she stifled it into a cough, and no one paid any mind at all.

She chased her arousal, languidly, up and around each side of her clit as Michael's voice droned, as her teammates fell further into stupors.

By a sheer force of will, she kept her breathing even as her imaginary lover licked her, teased her, played with her, and her fingers matched the fantasy as best they could.

Finally, she heard Michael's voice slow, the drone fading into resignation, and, disappointed it hadn't gone on a bit longer, took her hand out of her pants, buttoning it as well as she could manage.

They were dismissed. Finally.

"Hot, Carter?" Jack asked, yawning and stretching as they filed out of the door.

"Yes, sir," she said, somewhat more fervently than she intended. Jack gave her a look.

"It was a little stuffy in there," Daniel remarked.

Teal'c added an "Indeed," and they continued down the hall.

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets. "So...lunch?"

Daniel nodded, but Sam held back.

"I'm...uh...gonna go check on something, first. I'll catch up."

They shrugged and said they'd see her later, and Sam sighed in relief. There was just no way she'd be able to concentrate at the lunch table if she didn't take care of herself, first. With any luck, she'd be in time for dessert.

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