Jag: Cottage on the Cliff

Disclaimer: JAG is the property of Donald Belisaurio, CBS, and Paramount. All other characters are mine and fictional.

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March, 1992

Cape Hado

Okinawa, Japan

They had left the world of military protocol far behind them.

John and Sarah pulled into the driveway of their remote cottage, far from the prying eyes of the world, on a cliff overlooking the East China Sea.

"We're here." John said, cutting the engine and letting her absorb the atmosphere. "What do you think?"

"Oh, John...it's beautiful!" she smiled, her hand resting gently on his thigh.

Before her lay a traditional Japanese cottage, complete with Okinawan "shisas", Japanese spirit guards, looking benignly from its red-tiled roof.

Touching her lips to his, Sarah gently stroked the firm line of her lover's jaw, feeling the passion rising within her.

"Let's go inside," she said heatedly, "I want to see everything!"

The cottage was like something out of a Japanese fairytale. It was square in design, with a small, intimate garden, a traditional "fukushu-en", nestled quietly in its heart.

Sarah heard the soft trickle of water, and turned to see a delicate lava-stone waterfall flowing gently into a luminous pool of water lilies and oriental Koi. It was the kind of place that offered rest to the weary soul, and sustenance to those in love.

"It's perfect," she breathed, her hand buried intimately in his, "how did you know it was here?"

"I was on leave a few years back, and saw it standing all alone on this remote cliff. I swore that if I ever had anyone to share it with, I'd bring them here."

"And am I the first?" she probed, gently, dreading what he might say.

He nodded in affirmation, his eyes speaking volumes, "And the last, Sarah," he vowed.

Quietly, in the hush of the garden, he drew her against him, his hands exploring the contours of her body, offering the intimate promise of things to come. Passion clouded his steel gray eyes as he pressed his lips to hers, parting them, plunging his tongue deeply into the sweet, dark interior of her mouth.

"Let's see the rest of the cottage." he said brusquely, his voice throaty and sensuous. "There's a lot more I want to show you."

Slipping their outdoor shoes off at the entryway, John and Sarah began to explore the open, airy rooms in their new home, his hand ever caressing the gentle curve of her hip.

Finally, after quickly perusing the rest of the house, Sarah opened the sliding panel, which separated the bedroom from the rest of the world. She was surprised to see a large American-style bed dominating the space.

"This was already here?" she questioned.

"I know it doesn't fit," he answered sheepishly, "but I figured that we'd be spending most of our time...you know...here, and I wanted us to be comfortable. I had the owner deliver it this morning."

Sarah crossed the room and stretched luxuriously across the silken coverlet. "Well...it IS comfortable...did you have anything else in mind." she teased, her eyes heavy-lidded and receptive.

"Just this." he replied, stretching out beside her, the hardened jut of his maleness pressing intimately against her hip.

Sarah inhaled sharply, surrendering herself to the sensuous abandon of his touch, feeling her breasts straining against the soft fabric of her lacy undergarment.

"I think you're overdressed." he said huskily, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse.

Slowly he exposed her well-formed breasts and gazed hungrily at the dusky rose of her nipples.

"Sarah...you're so beautiful." he rasped. "I can't stop wanting to touch you...here," he gently kissed her lips, "...and here..." he tasted the hollows of her throat, "...and here." he said, drawing the tip of her breast between his lips.

Sarah felt a silken cord begin to twine itself throughout her body, joining the object of his attention to the heated offerings below, like a puppet on a string.

John lowered his hand, and began to stroke her inner thigh beneath her skirt, sliding ever upward until it came in contact with the brief wisp of silk between her legs.

Insinuating his finger beyond the elastic, he gently probed her moist triangle.

She breathed raggedly, her hands tugging at his waistband, trying desperately to reach the firm, hard contours of his flesh.

With great reluctance, he detached himself from her, taking with him the heated presence of his body, leaving her chilled and wanting. Then, standing beside the bed, he began to disrobe.

This was one of Sarah's favorite moments.

Mesmerized, she watched as one by one his clothing dropped to the floor, the firm muscles of his body defined by the shadows and light filtering through the large window behind the bed.

The pile at his feet grew, until there was only one piece left.

"Let me..." she pleaded, her palms aching for the touch of his heated flesh. "Let me finish up..."

Slowly, she rose from the bed, and sliding her skirt and panties over her hips, she followed them to the floor, kneeling between his well-muscled calves.

"Sarah..." he warned, "you know you make me crazy when you do that."

"I know..." she whispered, gently exposing the last, and most prominent vestige of his body. "I think it's only fair..."

The sight of his erection took her breath away. Would she never cease to be caught up in the beauty of his proud, massive maleness?

Gently, she cupped her hands around the shaft and touched her tongue to its straining tip, feeling its satiny hardness against her lips.

"Sarah..." he warned. "Not yet..."

Silently, she drew its head into her mouth, filling her completely, suckling the tiny drops of moisture that heralded his imminent release.

"Sarah!' he cried raggedly. "Stop!" and dropped heavily to the floor, his thighs capturing her between them, his pulsating organ throbbing insistently against her belly. "Let me catch my breath." he gasped, pressing her close, his hands cupping the fullness of her buttocks. "I'm like a teenager around you. Years of control...all shot to..."

Sarah placed her hands behind his neck and pulled him to her, his words lost in the sigh of the wind in the world outside as she teased his lips apart and stole his very breath away.

Gently, he lowered her to the floor, on a nest made of discarded clothing, and placed his knees between hers.

"Sarah..." he breathed, her name like an aphrodisiac, "Sarah..."

His body pleaded for fulfillment, but still her needs were foremost in his mind. Softly, he inserted his fingers, first one then two, and probed the silken triangle at the joining of her thighs. Then, bringing his thumb into play, he began to massage the hardened nub of her passion until her cries filled the room, pleading for him to complete their joining and satisfy the emptiness within her.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he plunged his engorged sex into the warm, wet interiors of her vagina, then paused, briefly, to allow her to adjust to his massive intrusion.

"Don't stop!" she cried, arching her hips to meet him. "Please..." she uttered mindlessly.

Determined to retain control for her sake, John tried to distract his mind from the warm, wet play of her muscles around his straining sex. As usual, with the woman beneath him, it was an exercise in futility. Sarah could drive him over the brink with a simple glance, what chance did he have to distract himself in the throes of passion?

Finally, Sarah won out, and John began to lose touch with the discipline he so treasured. Restraint abandoned, he began to thrust deeply within her, the massiveness of his erection sliding maddeningly across the distended nub of her passion.

Her release imminent, she wrapped her legs around his strong hips, as though to draw him bodily within her and leave nothing behind.

John plunged ever deeper...faster...harder until her cries shattered the stillness and she felt herself driven to the brink of insanity on a wave of shuddering completion.

Satisfied, John threw back his head and lunged, once...twice, then again as he filled her body with the proof of his passion, and breathlessly joined her on the edge of the unknown universe.

Wordlessly, they embraced, side by side on the mangled mat of their clothing, trying to regain some semblance of control. John felt the warm jagged gasps of her breath escaping her lips, caressing the flat hardness of his nipples, and began to feel a familiar stirring between his legs. Oh, lord, he thought...not already. I haven't got the strength. I'm going to end up in traction... Clasping Sarah against his chest, John picked her up, limp as a cloth doll, and placed her beneath the covers of the unused bed. Then, for the sake of his own preservation and hers, he headed into the bathroom for a cold shower.

9:00am The Next Day

Cape Hado

Okinawa, Japan

John and Sarah had made love all through the night. Now, in the light of day, they realized that neither had given any thought to sustenance of the more culinary variety.

They were starved.

Stiff but exhilarated, John pulled on his pants and headed for the kitchen. He had arranged with the owner to hire his wife to take care of the domestic requirements of their stay on Cape Hado, and had been assured that all would be in readiness for their arrival.

John glanced around the kitchen, glad for the modern renovations which had obviously been added to this part of the primarily traditional household.

The floor was covered with natural gray stone tile, scrubbed to immaculate perfection. The refrigerator, stove and microwave were done in black, offset by heavy granite countertops, glowing pristinely in the morning light. The owners had left nothing out...everything was ready and waiting for their use.

John opened the refrigerator, preparing himself for the worst. What he found was a delight to the senses. The owner's wife had gone "all out" to make their stay pleasant, and had even cooked supper and left it in the refrigerator for them to reheat.

John heaped two plates with steamed rice and teriyaki chicken and quickly warmed them in the microwave. Then, placing them on a black lacquered tray, he grabbed two containers of commercial spring water from the refrigerator and headed back for the bedroom.

The succulent aroma rising from the tray brought Sarah instantly awake.

"Food!" she exclaimed, ravenously. "I thought we were going to live on love..."

"We are...it just works better on a full stomach." laughed John, spreading the feast before her.

"After we eat, lets go into town and see what there is to see...how does that sound?" he offered.

"You mean, you're going to let me out of this bedroom at some point?" she teased.

"I think we could work something out..." he smiled lasciviously, his fingers tracing the curve of her naked breasts over the top of the silken sheet. "Would you like to negotiate?"

"Would it include food?" Sarah pleaded, placing a sliver of chicken on her tongue and daring him to take it from her.

"It could." he gazed heatedly, his mouth covering hers, claiming his prize. Then feeding her another piece to replace the one he'd stolen, he added, "It's a buyer's market. You have me at your mercy."

Slowly he placed the tray on the nightstand, and tugged the covering from her naked breasts.

It was noon before they remembered to eat.

1:00 P.M

The Following Week

The Village of Hado, Okinawa.

Hado was a remote fishing village on the rocky East China seacoast. The people who inhabited the area were primarily fishermen, and spent their days either on the sea, or in the traditional pastimes inherent in the local culture.

Visitors were rare in Hado, and John and Sarah felt secure that their romantic interlude would go unnoticed from the military and the world at large. This time was theirs alone, and they were both unwilling and unable to part with even a single stolen moment.

Lovingly, the two strolled the streets of the small village, stopping here for fruit, there for fresh shrimp, and stocking up on Sarah's favorite, Okinawan andagii, sweet deep-fried dough, similar to American donuts.

As they headed back toward the Jeep, Sarah noticed an announcement for a performance of classical Ryukyuan dance, to he held at the community center the following day.

"Let's go." she pleaded. "It's over 600 years old, and I hear it's truly beautiful. I'd really like to see one before I leave Japan."

Though dance recitals were far from a favorite pastime to the stalwart colonel, Sarah was. For her, anything was possible.

It was her reference to leaving Japan that gave him pause.

Sarah noticed his abrupt change in mood, and shared in his desperation. Only 4 more days, and they would be saying good-bye. She longed to stay with him, at any price, but John had remained adamant on that topic.

"Sarah" he'd said, his face a mask of pain. "I can't ask you...I won't allow you to give up everything you've worked so hard to achieve, just to be with me. Believe me...sooner or later you'd look back and see what you'd given up...and you'd hate me." he paused. "You've got everything in front of you...law school...a career you love...I won't hold you back."

She'd tried to reason with him, but John hadn't become a Marine colonel by being easily swayed. In the end he'd won out, or in Sara's estimation...they'd both lost.

Sarah dragged John through the many shops along the waterfront, buying trinkets to save, and memories to treasure. Finally, as the evening sky began to darken, and the flames of the setting sun lit the western sky, the couple headed home to share another night of passion in their cottage on the cliff.

It was evident that the landlord's wife had been by, for Sarah found the bed had been freshly changed, and supper was once again waiting in the refrigerator.

"Look at this, John! I don't have to do a thing!"

"That's the idea, my love. I didn't ask you here to be my maid, you know."

"Oh," she smiled suggestively, "and exactly what IS my role around here?"

"Anything you want it to be." he said seriously. "I want to make you happy."

"Hey! I bought you a present today." he said, changing the subject. "Come on into the bedroom, and I'll give it to you."

"Come into the bedroom and I'll give it to you?" she repeated. "If that's your best pick-up line...it needs work." she teased.

"Well, how about this, then?" he responded, pressing his body close behind her...caressing her breasts...trailing moist kisses down her neck. "Any better?"

"A definite improvement," she sighed. "You've been practicing..."

"Let's go into the bedroom." he suggested huskily. "I think I have homework to do."

John turned her around to face him, cupping her buttocks, pulling her tightly against his arousal.

"John." she gasped, pressing her hips into the fullness of him. "I can't get enough of you."

Sarah began to head toward the bedroom, but John held her fast.

"I can't wait." he breathed. "I want you now...here."

John kissed her deeply, drawing the breath from her body, making her senses reel. Quickly, he pulled her blouse over her head, then reached around to unhook her bra. Dropping it on the counter as he lowered his grasp to her buttocks and lifted her onto the hard, granite surface.

"Here?" she gasped. "What if the landlady comes by?"

"She won't." he rasped, "Trust me."

Gently, John pressed her down on the smooth countertop, then reached beneath her skirt and removed her panties.

Sarah felt the chilled stone surface against her back. Her nipples hardened, goose flesh consuming her body as John parted her thighs and raised the edge of her skirt up to her waist, exposing her to his gaze.

"Relax," he coaxed, as he stepped between her outstretched legs, and consumed the full, hard buds of her breasts with his hungry lips. "No one's coming but us..."

Sarah felt his hands stroke the insides of her naked thighs, sending shivers through her body. John watched as she arched her neck, her eyes closed in passion, then slowly inserted his thumbs into her moist epicenter, opening her fully, intimately, causing shudders of anticipation to wrack her being.

Slowly, maddeningly, he dipped his head, probing sensually between his thumbs, teasing her flesh with his fiery tongue until he felt her climax building within her. Then, deepening his "kiss", he began to paid homage deep inside her throbbing vagina, shattering the remnants of her reserve and flooding her being with cataclysmic release.

Sarah grabbed at his hair, urging him ever inward as she planted her heels on the edge of the counter, raising her hips to meet his thrusting tongue.

Finally, overcome by his sensuous assault, she surrendered unconditionally, and screamed out in passionate abandon.

Quickly, John opened his pants, freeing his straining member, and plunging it with one stroke into her wet, quivering core.

"Oh, John! " she moaned, "Oh John...oh John..."

Over and over he thrust his heated erection into her hot, wet vortex, as she climaxed repeatedly on the cold granite surface of the counter.

John watched her face as she came, again and again, holding his own release at bay as he plunged deeper...harder...faster, transforming his love into a mindless sentient creature, screaming his name into the night.

Finally, unable to deny his own flesh for a heartbeat longer, he began to drive powerfully between her thighs, deeply into her wet, clutching core, joining her wordless aria as he spent itself within her.

Drained and wet with perspiration, he lay his face on her breast, gasping for control, then silently lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

And so the nights had passed...each clinging to the other...desperate to waylay the inevitable... until finally only one remained.

As they lay together in their big American bed, Sarah knew the their time had fled too quickly, and pleaded again with her lover for the reprieve that only he could give.

It had been their only point of contention over the last two weeks, and John, knowing better the ways of the world, had been unswayable. He not would take her dreams from her, leaving, instead, a poignant regret over things that might have been. He could not be the one to steal the bright and shining life that lay before her.

And so they had lain in the big bed a final time, touching, stroking... each reluctant to complete the act that would spell the end of their time together. Finally John had bundled her naked form in a large quilt and carried her out on the cliff overlooking the sea.

There, above the eternal surge of an endless tide, he had entered her gently, and made slow, passionate love to her beneath the canopy of heaven. The silvery moonlight reflected in his tears, as time lost all meaning and he shared her final flight to the stars... filling her body one last time with the proof of his love.

Dawn had found them wrapped in each other's arms gazing sadly at the eternal revolution of time and tide by the cottage on the cliff, the rising sun a glaring reminder that while the world would go on without them, the fleeting concerns of mere mortals could not.

Silently he'd driven her to the terminal at Futenma, each lost in their own personal agony, afraid to speak lest their words cause the world to come shattering down around them.

There on the runway, with a brief salute to appease the gods of protocol, he had touched her face one final time, then turned and walked silently away into his solitary life.

It was only after she had boarded the waiting plane that she allowed the tears to flow unheeded down the pale ravages of her face. And it was only then that she remembered the poem that had been mounted on the wall in the cottage on the cliff. Hauntingly, it translated:

Even after we part