Sam knew for definite that she couldn't sleep just yet – with her it was just one of those things that happened, and just now it was telling her in no uncertain terms that she might just as well forget trying any further...
It wasn't down to the dregs of adrenaline-rush from their recent escape under fire; they'd all had that, and the whole team including Teal'c in his own way, were out for the count, each peacefully dreaming away while the captured mother-ship powered onwards direction Earth.
Nor was it anything to do with the lure of captured technology now at her fingertips, tantalising her with the chance of days-long study; she was definitely used to sleepless nights from grappling with such scientific problems. She just knew that this time such stimuli were not to blame, it was her body that was the culprit.
She felt all fired up and in post combat mode. Finding itself idle, it remained itchy for something to do, insisting upon keeping her aware of this and so making it impossible for her to settle.
The mission, their stealing this ship, along with defeating pursuit over several hours, all should have seen her bushed-out and asleep like the rest – certainly now that they were safely in hyperdrive. Yes, SG 1 had done it again, against the odds – and yet again here she was, left wide-awake.
The scientist in her knew why. It was something the soldier in her encountered after joining the Stargate Program at SGC. The scientific mind knew, because it had taken curiosity by the hand, and gone off in search of answers.
PCRS or less elusively: Post Combat Release Syndrome, was the military-ambiguous title of an otherwise detailed but little known report she had found lurking on the Joint-Military Database, outlining in depth why she and many combat personnel invariably felt horny after coming through heavy action.
Despite the predictably psycho-anal babbling present in most military psychology, she found the thesis in itself engaging. As a trained mind within the body of an experienced soldier, she could dissect, identify and distil it all to clarity; then digesting what was left from the three hundred and twelve pages of cross-referenced conclusion, she had ended up feeling far better about herself.
Essentially, most combat personnel felt the need for sexual release after any intense, close-combat situations; especially those times where they had come close to death. Surprisingly it wasn't so much to do with any deep and prehistoric instincts coming to the fore, something genetically coded and locked in and merely seizing its chance during a moment of weakness – the winner's need to improve survival of the species by procreation – although some aspect of that was partially responsible too. The report focused its thesis upon this response coming from a need to celebrate, more of a relief-reflex at having survived. And being a champion of the rational over the instinctive, this conclusion was one that she fully approved of.
With swift sexual release possibly being the most immediate way to celebrate a victory, the report cited the historic need for camp followers throughout the history of warfare, even mentioning victory raping as a direct manifestation, although it thankfully dwelled there very briefly. It concluded on a pros' and cons' discussion of acceptance for tolerance toward masturbation as an alternative option, as it was logistically cheap and available almost everywhere.
The scientist part of her mind approved of the logic, and her military part had no problem with the conclusions either. Since reading the report, she'd found she could deal with it all far better - reacting in the most pragmatic way possible by bringing herself to orgasm as soon after combat as she could, wherever the opportunity was present to get away somewhere private.
Her body was of course telling her now that this was exactly what she should be doing, right this minute – just go off into the big ship somewhere and masturbate to calm her hormones, and
quickly
.
Unfortunately Jack's increasing presence in her subconscious/conscious mind had begun to add complications to this simple remedy, taking it beyond mere relief after action; Sam found that she was masturbating most nights now, whether she had seen action or not.
Glancing across at him, stretched out in sleep on the bridge command seat next to hers, she smiled quietly at seeing his lined face relaxed and at peace in that grumpy kind of way he had, although partially shielded by the peak of his cap.
Jack's ethos and adherence to the rules, wouldn't allow them to be together, not whilst both were still uniformed members of the Airforce; meaning that they couldn't go anywhere relationship wise, not just yet. Yet she also didn't feel ready to abandon that potential, and go looking elsewhere, not just yet – instinctively she felt that he was ready to crack, soon maybe.
She came out of her introspection, realising that her gaze had settled in subconscious reflection of its own, upon his crotch, and that he had a nocturnal erection, visible even in his baggy combats. She sighed and took back control of her eyes, swivelling them away from that pleasing attraction.
And that was complication number-two – she felt steadily more drawn to risking everything, by taking chances to get them in a position of complete no return.
Lately it had gone beyond the laying of her head on his shoulder during combat-naps, or other occasional contacts bordering upon the intimate, whenever the chance arose. She had kept herself in control, even when the urges had risen beyond those simple needs, but Sam wanted to make it impossible for him to ignore, to deny what they could have together by creating a
fait acomplis
situation.
She found herself looking back at his erection again, in her mind's eye toying with the image of her carefully opening his zipper and easing it out, encircling it slowly with her mouth, sliding it in as far as she could... just for a moment, before putting it back so that he'd never know, except deep down in his subconscious...
But that wouldn't be enough for her, nor would his Special Forces training allow that to happen, she was certain of it; although that hadn't stopped it being a central fantasy of hers for some months now, and even if she could never do it, the thought would remain good orgasm material – fantasy was more useful when it was all you had.
Coming back out of her reverie with slightly elevated breathing, she sat up to relieve the pressure of her combats become pressed up tight against her sensitive clitoris and lips. During the daydream, she had slid down in her seat, possibly in emulation of Jack's posture – yet that wouldn't explain why her legs had been parted more than modesty would normally allow for.
Standing smoothly for something to do, she rubbed her face with quiet vigour, moving on to slowly massage her neck as distraction from the low, pleasant throb focused between her thighs and accompanying sensitivity of awakening nipples. Drawing a controlled breath and releasing it as if handling explosives, she turned around at the main control console and looked back at him. This scenario came close to one of her tentative plans to get Jack into that place of no return, by letting him find her stroking herself intimately, but where no one would disturb them.
She'd almost gone through with it one time, but hadn't felt ready just then for the full show. It had happened off world one night, on what was to become the Alpha Site. They'd been on protracted recce, out on patrol for a few days looking closely for signs of habitation or Goa'ould activity further out beyond the gate region, and as they were to be out for a few days they had needed to bivouac.
She'd been restless that night too, and could not sleep – masturbating in her sleeping bag had not worked, becoming too self-conscious about the situation, and of the light noises her movements were making; so she'd ended up leaving the camp to attend to herself properly. In the dark, just inside the automatic perimeter she'd heard his approach from the sleeping area, but had carried on, knelt there on the ground, facing outwards with one hand working away inside her panties, biting her lip to stifle any sounds. Then a second twig-snap came from closer, and she'd panicked, standing to re-fasten her clothing as if she'd just been taking a pee.
The lost opportunity had worked on her in the meantime, becoming her main plan to get them in bed together. Jack she knew would be unable to resist, as inadvertently she'd found some porn tapes at his home one time when they had all gone to his place for clues after he'd mysteriously vanished. The tapes were predominantly of women alone and playing with themselves; one had spookily resembled herself with the likeness extending to build and looks, even mannerisms - and he had three tapes of that particular woman.
Leaning back against the console, she sighed, now unable to keep her thoughts away from him and her need. Obliviously, Jack slept on baby-like while Daniel over in the corner was busy with whatever curious dreams possessed him, twitching lightly in his sleep. Teal'c although out of sight in the control room antechamber next door, would still be sat in Kel'no'rehm meditation, which was as good as him being asleep, so he would not be surfacing for a while yet.
Keeping her eyes on him, Sam lifted her hand to slowly touch her right breast and even through three layers, the contact sent a twitch of anticipatory pleasure through her from nipple to belly. Licking her lips she began massaging it with firm clasping motions, working her hand inside the tunic for better contact while contemplating what her libido was urging her to do. The small voice of reason inside was loosing ground rapidly to the excitement levels rising within, while with her other hand she opened the front of her combats, sliding a hand slowly inside them, her fingertips sending another thrill through her body as they encountered the loose waistband of her decidedly non-military panties. Closing her eyes briefly then, she slid her long hand inside, angling her legs outward and open to give it full access between her thighs.
She was wet and ready, becoming wetter still as her fingers slid either side of a responding clitoris. The soft moan was more out of frustration than pleasure, although the latter quickly overtook it as she flexed the exploratory fingers a few times back and forth, sliding two deeper along the parting furrow and feeling it fill up quickly with her own silky moisture.
The knowledge that she was touching herself quite openly in the same room as the man she wanted so badly, sent a flush across her cheeks; the turn-on was incredibly charged and she could feel her clit swelling between her already slippery fingers.
Damn! I'm going to need to clean up after this.
Eyes closing again, she inserted one finger very slowly, body partly folding in around it as the ripples outwards preceded her touch, her arm almost like a pole she was wrapping herself around, her breath coming out in a light, shuddering gush of need.
The tip of her finger barely grazed her G-spot before she came, causing her to sag back helpless, mouth wide and sucking for breath with the sudden power of her release. For a few seconds she remained slumped and weak as the ripples and tremors bounced around inside her, until guiltily she withdrew her hand, feeling if anything worse for the quickness of it all, cheated she felt by the speed and flush of her orgasm.
Oh boy, I should have seen that coming!
