In a Heartbeat
Part Eight
by sarAdora

The behavioral psychologists were stymied. The subjects were not acting like any of the other couples that had gone through the experiments. The others did nothing but bicker and fight with each other until they finally gave in and made love.

"They didn't all make love," Bonnie reminded Clyde. "For some, it was more like plain 'ole monkey sex. Then, there was that couple from the Senate. Remember them?" she snickered.

"How could I forget?" Clyde shook his head. "That was *not* hot monkey sex. That was screwing, plain and simple. Lord! They were like grizzly bears in heat. I thought they were going to kill each other."

"They almost did," one of the computer techs deadpanned. "Between her steel-tipped implants and his raging cock..."

"That's enough," Bonnie declared. "Let's not revisit that fiasco!"


JJ guessed there were four cameras - probably in the heavy crown molding around the ceiling. He had focused on each strip of molding and not once had he noticed a red or green light or anything else that would indicate a camera. Must be some new kind of technology. The microphones have to be very powerful or fairly close. Bet one's in the headboard, maybe one in the ceiling light fixture, but how do they get in?

The walls were fairly solid, covered either by plaster or drywall, he wasn't sure which, but no way did they hide a secret entrance. He'd bet his life on it. He and Ollie had practically torn the bathroom apart. They didn't come in through there. Which means... there is only one way for someone to get in and out.  He was certain his theory was correct; now, all he had to do was act on it.

He turned on his side and slid down in the bed and stared at his Chief of Staff. It's a plot to kill me,  he groaned audibly, causing Ollie to lift her head and look at him. Look at her,  he sighed. I'm held captive in a room - semi-nude - with the most beautiful marine in the Corps and someone's recording my every move. If I even think about making love to her, my crotch will be blown up on film for the world to see. If this is the SecNav's idea of a joke, I'll kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands.  He shook his head - the SecNav would be the last person to do this. Who?  It took a few seconds before it hit him right between the eyes, making him sit up in bed, clenching his hands into fists. Middleton! If that little toad had anything to do with this - anything *remotely* to do with this, I will eviscerate the little bastard and enjoy every minute of it!  That settled, he took a calming breath and slid back down in the bed.

"You okay?" Ollie asked, scooting down beside him, her face level with his.

"Mmmm. What time is it?"

"1747 hours. Why?"

"I'm hungry."

"Hungry for what?" she asked softly as she focused on his mouth.

"For something to put in my mouth - for something to eat," he chuckled.

Ollie arched a brow. JJ stared at her a moment and then made an exasperated sound.

"You're impossible," he growled.

"But not impenetrable," she replied, putting a finger on his lips. "Kiss me, Admiral Hamilton"

"Let me explain something, Colonel Meadows... *Lieutenant* Colonel Meadows... I outrank you. I don't take orders. I give the orders."

"According to the regs, sir, when the senior officer is incapacitated and/or otherwise incapable of performing his duties, the officer next highest in rank takes control of the situation. As you are undoubtedly not able to take charge of the obvious and immediate solution to our problem, I am taking the initiative and I am..."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His lips moved over hers in such a hungry manner they were both startled by its intensity. His tongue edged between her lips, not asking permission but demanding entrance. His kiss wasn't soft and gentle - there was no tenderness, only passion. He took what he wanted, his lips bruising hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, his arms holding her tightly to his body, one hand on the back of her neck, the other cupping her ass.

Ollie yielded. Her arms went around his neck and she gave as good as she got. Her hands roamed over his head and neck and shoulders. Her lips responded to his and her tongue explored his mouth when he let her. Her body was pressed as close to him as she could get and she reveled in the feel of his hard muscular chest against her soft breasts. She could feel his penis pushing against her upper thighs - hard and thick - and she lifted a thigh over his - wanting more - and moaning softly.


"Yes!" Bonnie chortled. "He can't resist her." "Nobody could," the burly man muttered, watching the couple on the screen. "Only a saint could... and God knows that's not me. I'd give anything to trade places with that JAG fella."

"You touch her," Bonnie snapped, "and I will personally wield the knife that turns you into a eunuch."

"Precisely why I won't," he mumbled, turning away from the screen.

"The Admiral has a nice butt," a young female technician observed. "Bet he runs a lot."

"What the hell does running have to do with butt muscles?"

"The tailbone's connected to the hip bone," Clyde sang. "The hip bone's connected to the thigh bones, and that's the..."

Everyone laughed, easing the tension in the room.

"They gonna' do it?" Clyde looked at Bonnie. "Twenty bucks says they won't."

"You are such a pervert," his partner smirked. "Yes, they're going to do it, but not right this minute."

~ End Part Eight ~

| Go to - Part Nine |

Or, return to Vanilla Stories

Or, back to Spanking Fiction - Main Menu.