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Daniel:

It's the most amazing thing, holding my son. Knowing that when he looks at me, he recognizes my face. Knows that I'm someone...important...in his life. When that tiny hand reaches out for me, I know that he's trying to touch me, it's not just random movement. Once again I thank every god I can think of, and then send out a general 'to whom it may concern', just to cover all my bases. My ears are still ringing with the sounds of Casey and the kids singing and laughing. Such beautiful, amazing sounds. If I lost the ability to hear tomorrow, I would have the memories of those precious voices to treasure for the rest of my life.

I catch a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye...heading toward the bedroom. Whatever it was she had tossed into the washer earlier is no doubt folded and sitting on top of the dryer...I heard it buzz when I was getting Ethan's bottle ready.

Our...discussion...earlier has given me yet another glimpse into her heart, into her soul...into what makes Casey who she is. I know, you'd think after eleven years I'd know her as well as I know myself. The thing of it is, Casey has always been an enigma...a beautiful puzzle that I have loved trying to solve. For years she battled darkness in her soul, in her mind, and never once let on. I caught a glimpse of it, the first time I held her while she cried about being a slut. I thought I had defeated those demons, had freed her from the darkness. Maybe I had. Until I went on a mission, and she saw something that she wasn't supposed to see...heard me say things that I never wanted to say...things that nearly killed her, and freed that darkness to haunt her again. To this day she suffers from the scars that I put on her heart, on her soul; wounds that I swear to god I never intended to inflict upon her. On top of all of the other hurts she's endured. I wounded her in a way that Helen Webster never could. Because she had trusted her heart to me...and I crushed it. I'll never, ever be able to make that up to her.

Then, like a damned fool, I let my ego get the best of me, and wound up in a situation that broke it all over again. In spite of her fears. In spite of her warning. For a second time I hurt her, wounded her very soul. The amazing thing is, never did she lose her faith in me. Her love stood strong...enduring. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve her...or her love.

Add the stupidity I demonstrated in the way that I hired Julie, so damned sure that she would be overjoyed at the prospect of not having to do so much paperwork, and for a third time I battered her heart. Not only that, I nearly shoved her over the edge, into that darkness. Had I been any slower in picking up what was going on, she would have been lost to me forever.

I know for a fact that if I fuck up one more time, it's all over. I will have totally destroyed her. And there will be no getting her back. Casey will always love me. I know that as well as I know my name. But she'd never be able to trust me again...one more fall and I will have shattered that trust beyond repair. And a relationship...a marriage...without trust is like a building without a foundation. If I screw up one more time...she'll walk away. The pain would be too much for her to bear. She would take my kids, and be gone. No doubt she'd make arrangements so that I could spend time with the kids. And most certainly she's speak with Dr. Montigue...see to it that I'm 'weaned' off of her pheromones, that sweetness to which I'm so addicted. Yep, she'd walk away, and that sunlight, the love that she showers on me...would be lost to me forever. That thought makes me shudder with fear.

I'm really not surprised that she sees herself as 'untalented'. I know for a fact she can paint, maybe not portraits, but she has talent. The seahorses and fish and lobsters and crabs and bubbles on the kids' bathroom walls attest to that fact. But she doesn't see that as a talent. Nor does she view her ability to take simple ribbon and craft the most amazing bows I've ever seen as anything special. Too damned many years being told she was useless and worthless. Too damned many scars left on her heart, on her soul...put there when she was at her most vulnerable, when her young heart was impressionable, when every word was truth to her. Helen Webster is gone now. Passed away in her sleep, according to the note Case got from Sheryl. She went too damned easy for my liking.

Ethan is asleep. My son. My youngest son. I wish I could describe the feeling that is flowing through me right now. Time to put him in his crib. Check Nicholas and Emily. My children. I can't help but wonder...can my Mom and Dad see them? Can they see their grandchildren? Can they see how happy I am?

Kids are tucked in, covered up, sleeping peacefully. Both monitors are on. Now I'm going to join my beautiful Wife...with luck she won't be finished in the shower. Maybe I'll get to wash her hair. Love to do that. I slip into our bedroom, shut and lock the door. Check to make certain that the 'receiving' monitors are on...I can hear the soft sounds of the kids breathing as they sleep.

I strip on the way to the bathroom. Jeans and tee shirt and boxers into the hamper. She's standing by the counter. "Hey, I thought you were taking a shower."

She looks at me in the mirror. Flashes that zillion watt smile. The one that should be registered as a lethal weapon. The one that makes me weak in the knees, and my heart flutter in my chest. "I thought I'd straighten up a bit, and wait for you."

I can see that she's put away all of the jewelry that cluttered the counter. All of her makeup is back in the basket she has for it. Hair clips and bands in that blue glass bowl she's had for as long as I've known her. "Glad you waited. Want me to wash your hair?"

"I'd like that." The words are almost a sigh, and go straight to my heart, and down to my cock. No other woman has ever affected me the way that Casey does. A sigh, a soft moan, and my body goes hard...or harder; my need is a living thing that screams inside me, cries out for her...her touch...her love.

When the water is warm, we step into the shower enclosure. Best damned idea in the world, two showerheads. Nice big shower. The better for making love in. But not tonight. Maybe in the morning. Tonight I'm going to make her sing her love to me, with my kisses, my caresses, with my body. With luck I'll hear that beautiful new sound at least once.

The best thing about the shower heads is that they can be handheld. I pull hers from the mount and get her hair wet. I can see her close her eyes as I move my fingers through it. Whoever designed the house...or at least this shower enclosure, was thinking ahead. There are two shelves that are part of the wall, actually set in between the studs in the wall, and carefully tiled over. They're out of the way, but easy to reach. I have my body wash and a bottle of shampoo on one shelf. Which are crammed up against her three types of shampoo, two conditioners, and four body washes. I spent a lot of years alone. Seeing the tangible proof that I'm living with a woman makes me grin, every time I look at it.

Since I'm the one washing her hair, I get to pick the shampoo. I've always loved the way this stuff...Chamomile and Honey...makes her hair smell. It's not perfume-y like some of the others. It compliments that sweet spring flowers and vanilla scent that is intrinsic of her. I pour some into my hand, rub my palms together, and then start working through that long silk.

"You have the most amazing hands," she sighs.

"Think so?"

"Know so."

I happen to think her hands are pretty damned amazing, too. Just the thought of what those soft hands can do for me has me breathing faster. It doesn't take long to get her hair washed, and the conditioner worked into it. I finish bathing her, then she bathes me. God, I love the way she touches me! So gentle...tender...so much love in her fingertips. When we're finished, I rinse the conditioner out of her hair, squeeze as much of the excess water out of it that I can. She'll insist on drying her hair; the dryer it is before she starts, the less time it will take. I want to get to bed...I want to touch her...taste her...make love to her.

"I'll be right out," she promises.

I take the time to walk through the house, make sure the front and back doors are locked. We've always left the French doors open; the set in the conversation room, the set in the living room, and the set in our bedroom, allowing the night breezes to cool the house. After the incident with the NID, I'd prefer to close and lock them as well. But Casey refuses to allow it. She says that doing so gives in to the fear of them. And she will not let them win. So, open they stay. I happen to know that the Hope PD patrols through here regularly. There are also two security guards on each shift that wander the neighborhood day and night, a change in procedure after our home was invaded. If the NID want to break into my house again, they'll have to be damned determined!

When I get back to our room, lock the door again for the night, she's pulling the comforter back. My body starts to shake in anticipation. This is what I've been waiting for...since I opened my eyes this morning. To be with her. To fly with her. To love her.

She bends over to pick up one of the pillows she dropped. I can feel my cock stand straight up at the sight of that sweet pink flesh, winking at me so seductively from between her slender thighs. She has no idea what she does to me. She can't know how much I love her...how much I need her...how much I ache for her.

The smile on her face when she turns around lets me know that she's aware that her actions have led to my very obvious condition. She stretches out on the bed, crooks her finger and beckons me to join her. For one second my legs refuse to cooperate. She's so stunningly beautiful that it takes my breath away. She looks like a goddess laying there like that...the light from the small lamp illuminating her skin...she seems to glow. Every inch of her is alluring...tantalizing...captivating. I can't move, I can't breathe. All I can do is stand here, totally enchanted. Completely under her spell. The moment passes, and I'm able to walk across the room.

Before I'm fully laying beside her, she's running her hand up and down my chest. When she leans over to kiss me, she sets the rules for our first encounter. Right now, she's in charge. She'll do to me what she wants...I have no choice but to accept my fate. She'll make love to me...take me on that amazing flight of passion. She'll drive me out of my mind before she lets me go over the top. And I'll love every minute of it.

Her kiss is soft, tender...she gives as much as she takes. She never, ever makes a move until I've worked the combination to those sweet lips. When she's teased my lips with her tongue, gently moved her lips over mine, she deepens the kiss. So much love with every stroke of her tongue. Our tongues duel from her mouth to mine and back again. She's shifted until she's laying on me, my cock pressed against my belly between us, her breasts pushing into my chest, her nipples hard and pointed against my skin.

Casey loves to kiss. And she's the best kisser I've ever known. I swear to god she could make me come just kissing me. She's taking the time to touch, to taste every inch, every corner of my mouth. Her kiss is first aggressive, then softens to the point it's almost shy. Then she begins to demand from me once again, taking what I offer, giving back so much more in return. And it all turns me on...makes the Fire rage inside me.

Her hands are moving up and down my arms. Her fingers lace themselves with mine for a few moments, before they're trailing back up to my shoulders, scorching my skin with every soft caress. Have I ever mentioned the fact that my hands seem to have a mind of their own when it comes to her...and touching her? As soon as her hands have left mine, I fill them with that sexy ass. I'm kneading those firm mounds without even realizing it...the first I know of it is when she moans into my mouth, and presses back against my palms.

Slowly, almost unwillingly it seems, she moves her lips from mine, across my jaw, to my throat. She has learned all of the places that arouse me...make me shiver and jump and ache for her. I can't help but grin when she sucks on my Adam's apple. I don't know why she likes doing that. I don't care why she likes doing that. It forces me to swallow...something that pleases her. Don't ask. I have no idea why. She moves down a bit, leaves her mark on the skin in the hollow of my throat.

I shiver...hard...and my cock throbs painfully when she starts nibbling on the muscle behind my ear. She's damned sensitive there, a simple flick of my tongue on that spot and she shivers...I guess I am, too. I don't think there's an inch of my throat that hasn't been touched by her lips, her tongue. Like her kisses, the attention turns me on, makes me needy...makes me want more.

When she moves down to my collarbones, I can feel my body tense up with anticipation. The journey of discovery has begun. A most incredible journey, whether I'm the traveler, or the one discovered; a journey of love that each of us take every night. I've listened to some of the guys in the locker room, complaining about the lack of interest that their wives or girlfriends seem to have in certain activities. I know that I'm married to an amazing woman. That she wants to please me - make me feel good - is evident in every caress, every kiss. That she wants to go down on me is obvious in the way she makes love to me, the sparkle in her eyes when she's sucking me.

Shit!...Damn that feels good! I've always had sensitive nipples. I never knew how much I liked having them sucked and licked and played with, until I met Casey. Because no other woman I've ever been with was interested in them. She likes taking her time on my chest. Drives me crazy when she does, those soft lips and hands, her warm tongue moving over and over and over my skin. She licks every inch of my pecs, then her attention returns to my nipples. When she begins to bite them, ever so gently, I feel it all the way to the tip of my very swollen, throbbing manhood.

I am so ready to blow that I have to concentrate on something...anything...other than the magical touch of her hands, her mouth. How many times have we made love? How many times has she done exactly what she's doing now? Too many to count. Yet every time I hold her, every time I make love to her, every time she makes love to me, it's as special as the first time I held her in my arms. She licks my belly...teases my navel. Payback for what she knows I'll do to her. I love her piercing...I can run my tongue around that little platinum ring in her bellybutton and she comes up off the bed. I know I'm not nearly that sensitive...but the attention affects me nonetheless. I hear myself gasp when the tip of her tongue meets the tip of my shaft...she takes that teardrop of precum into her mouth, licks me again for good measure.

Sweet Jesus! My shoulders come straight up off the bed, my toes curl, and I swear to god my heart is going to explode when she takes my cock into her mouth, her hand closing around me at the same time. The other hand is gently rolling my balls, caressing them...oh, god that feels good! She asked me to explain how it feels when she does that. I can't. I don't know how to explain it, what to compare it to so that she can understand. When I admitted that to her, she just smiled, and kissed me. And told me that knowing I liked it was enough...oh, god, yes!

I have no control over my body at this point. My hips meet her each time she moves down on my cock. I grab her hair, it's fallen down in front of her, and I want to watch as she drives me insane. Her green eyes focus on mine as she starts licking me. You'd think I was a lollipop or something, the way that pink tongue moves around and around...Oh, god! She knows everything there is to know about pleasing me. And she uses that knowledge to make me feel so damned good I'm in danger of spontaneous combustion. Flames are roaring up and down my spine, licking the ceiling as they burn around me. I can damned near see them as she sets up a nice steady rhythm once again. She's up on her knees, taking me as far as she can...not into her throat, not quite yet.

Holy shit! Her hands are moving on me, down...down...down...by the time she reaches my balls with one hand, the other is on its way down, and she's keeping up the suction and moving her tongue over me like...like I don't know what...but I'm not going to last much longer. I want to hold out...make her work for it. But that talented tongue, those soft hands...it feels so freaking incredible...I can feel the moan move up from my belly, into my throat, past my lips.

Pure, unadulterated pride. That's what fills those beautiful green eyes when she looks up at me. Her eyes are reflecting just how pleased she is with herself. She's so damned proud of herself for making me moan like that. My god, I don't think there's anything as erotic as her eyes watching me as I watch her...her lips wrapped around my cock, her head bobbing up and down as she gives me pleasure.

I try to relax. Try to reason with my body...tell it to hold out for just a few more minutes...don't give in to her so easily, so quickly...my cock immediately tells me to shut the fuck up...because ecstasy is just a few seconds away. Didn't I say I have no control over my body now? I can feel it. That most incredible, wondrous feeling...working its way from the pit of my stomach, into my balls. I can feel the head of my cock hit the back of her throat, she starts swallowing..."Sweet Jesus!"

For a few seconds I'm actually worried about blowing her head off, I come so forcefully. I'm throbbing hard and fast, my heart is pounding in my chest, and she's taking down every last drop. I watch her...her touch is so light, so gentle. Even as the pulsing stops, and I finally come down, she continues to lick and kiss me.

"Better?" she asks. When she licks her lips, it reminds me of a cat licking the cream from its whiskers. She looks that smug and contented, too! Little minx!

I take a quick inventory of my body...heart, still hammering, but not as fast. The waves of pleasure that rolled over me have left me weak and breathless...but alive. And very, very satisfied. "Much."

"Good."

As soon as I can move, it's my turn. I'll drive her crazy, make her sigh and moan and cry out. Send her into orbit. Just as soon as I can move.

She's kissing me...softly...gently. Starting the Fire burning all over again. My body is satiated, and yet the need for her is so great I'm getting hard again. I want to taste her. I need to taste her. I roll over, put her on her back. Now I'm in control. I'm the one who will determine when she goes over the edge. I'm the one who will give her pleasure. The knowledge that I'm the only one who can do that, the only one that she, that her body, desires, fills me with such love that it's damned near overwhelming.

When I start to move my lips from hers, she objects...her hands tighten in my hair, she holds me close, deepens the kiss. Gotta love the fact that my kisses mean that much to her, that she enjoys them that much. So I give her more of what she wants. Such a sacrifice I have to make...kissing this beautiful, sensuous, sexy woman. I nibble on her lips, feel her gasp against my mouth. Stroke her tongue, tease her just a bit...let her push into my mouth before I demand control once again...Time to move on...

I move over her, position my legs on either side of hers. I'll try to keep as much of my weight on my knees as possible. I love having my hands free when I make love to her. She seems to like me on top of her. But I don't want to crush her; I outweigh her by damned near eighty pounds. And the majority of that weight is in my abdomen, chest and shoulders. I've bulked up a bit over the years, working out with Jack and Teal'c, carrying a sixty pound or heavier pack on my back, hiking twenty miles or more in a day. Now, let's start her little trip to the stars.

Casey has the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen. They're round and perky and full and firm and soft; the nipples are small, round, hard buds, the rosy areolas puffy with arousal. I've spent hours making love to them, driving us both to the very brink of insanity. I've managed to get those sweet nips to stand out nearly half an inch from her breasts, and have made her areolas swell so far that they stand out as well. I love the way they feel against my tongue, the way they taste, the way I can actually feel them harden even more as I suckle. I run my tongue from the valley between her breasts to the underside, over the top and back down, again and again, moving slowly toward those sweet nipples. While I work my mouth over and around one breast, my hand massages the other...I tug at the nipple with my fingers, then press my palm against it. I can feel her pushing back.

Her breath is coming faster, just a bit harder as I switch, licking and kissing and sucking on the breast I had been playing with, drying the other with my hand. I like to take as much of her tantalizing breast into my mouth as I can, then pull away slowly, until my lips are completely around the areola, sucking gently the entire time. It makes her sigh every time, and push against me with even more pressure. Flick my tongue over her nipple, suck it a bit, and then do it all over again. When I settle down to do some serious 'nipple work', I hold her breasts in my hands, and move back and forth, sucking each nipple and areola until I can feel her entire body vibrating beneath me.

Her skin always tastes so damned sweet. Smells like spring flowers and vanilla. Feels like satin beneath my fingertips. I continue to make love to her, waiting until I hear the soft little sounds that tell me she's turned on...burning...enjoying my attention. God I love her breasts! Sarah had tiny, pert little tits, I could get the entire thing in my mouth...her nipples always seemed much too large for them, the areolas covering nearly the entire front of the breast. Sha're had full, large, voluptuous breasts, with large, dark nipples and areolas the size of silver dollars. I cared deeply for Sarah. I loved Sha're deeply. I enjoyed making love to both of them. But neither can compare to Casey. My goddess. My temptress. My sweet little Slave.

We have 'played games' since the night she shocked the hell out of me, walking into the living room in the little house on Baldwin Street, wearing nothing but that white satin corset, white stockings and those shoes with the five inch heels. And the chain. I nearly died that night, taking her every way I could. That was the first time I had her sweet ass. The first time she masturbated for me. God, what a turn on to watch her make herself come! I shiver from the memories that flash through my mind. The first time she danced for me, I thought my brain was going to melt. Then there was the night she stripped for me. Damned near died that night, too. Every incredible minute was her idea. She calls me 'Master', but I know just who controls whom.

Listen! Those adorable little sounds, a cross between a whimper and a whisper. That's my cue. It's time to move on. I give those delectable nipples one more kiss, then slide down a bit, wrap my hands around her narrow waist. Try to ease her back onto the mattress. She's trembling, her body shaking in my hands...a combination of pleasure and anticipation and need. Her fingers are curled in my hair. Soon they'll be clenched, and she'll be tugging gently. That's a turn on, too. At least, it is for me. Her belly rolls beneath my lips as I tease her. She has the larger navel ring in. I can get the tip of my tongue through it, and tug just a bit. That soft moan is one of pure pleasure. I thrust my tongue into that sexy little 'inny' belly button, wiggle it around just to hear her moan again.

Like the junkie that I am, I can't hold out any longer. I want, I need my fix. I need a taste of that heavenly nectar, that honey she creates just for me. I watch her face as I slide down. I can see the flush that covers her breasts, puts a tinge of color in her cheeks. The Fire that dances in her eyes. Sweet Jesus, she's so damned beautiful! I inhale deeply...oh, god, that's it...the scent of paradise. Spring flowers and vanilla, stronger than that of her skin, slightly musky, totally exhilarating. My mouth is watering as I lower my head, her thighs are wide open to me. I use just the tip of my tongue to trace those soft, moist folds. Work my way slowly toward that sweet, hot honey pot. I've taken my time, aroused her completely. She'll reward my efforts with a flood of her sweet honey...if I just wait a few seconds longer. I'm starting to tremble as much as she is, the anticipation...waiting for that adrenaline rush that hits me every time I partake of her...pushing us both toward the edge.

I flick my tongue over her clit...tighten my hands on her thighs as she jumps. Pull back, blow gently on it, watch it swell even more, peeking out from that pink hood that hides it, protects it. As odd as it sounds, I had never...examined...a woman, not closely, until Casey. Never knew what an incredible, beautiful thing a sweet little twat is. I guess I'd  never thought about it, was never...comfortable...enough with the woman in my bed at the time. Or, as was the case with Sha're, such careful observation would never have been allowed. To be honest, Carrie was the only woman with whom I'd actually had oral sex with regularly...well, I went down on her...she was never eager to return the favor. Sarah...Sarah wanted to fuck. Hard. Fast. She wanted to come and move on. Just being able to see Sha're naked was an accomplishment, she was so shy. But with Casey...the first time I tasted her, I knew I would feast often, worship often at her altar. When she was just as eager to please me...well, I was totally blown away. We hadn't been in the little house long, I remember we had the day off...we were making love, she was on top of me, and we were giving one another oral pleasure, when I realized she wasn't actually doing anything. I looked down, and she was just...looking at me...her fingers moving over my cock, my hips, my balls...just... looking. So, for the first time, I really looked at her...at a woman. Took my time studying that sweet flesh. What a thing of beauty! Now I understand why so many artists see it as a flower.

I gently open her folds with my fingers. Lock my eyes with her. She's trembling...holding her breath...anticipating my touch. For just a moment we're suspended in time...each of us waiting for what's about to happen. I run my tongue around her one more time, then thrust it inside her, feel her arch toward me, the tremors that move over her, taste the sweet honey that pours from her, into my eager, waiting mouth. Like a bolt of electricity, Fire shoots from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, moves back up to center in my throbbing cock.

"Nngg...yes!"

Oh, hell yeah! That's what I want! That soft sound, that cry-like sigh. It's time to send her soaring. Once I've made certain that I haven't missed a single drop of her sweet nectar, I concentrate on licking small circles around her clit. Her hips are in motion now, moving up and down against my face as I tease her, arouse her even further. In just a minute or two she's going to be trying to put that swollen little button right where she wants it, she'll try to force me to give her what she wants, what she needs. I flick my tongue over her once... twice...three times...back to licking tight circles, coming within a breath of her clit...then I flick it again.

"Nngg!"

Once more I take the time to investigate every fold of her sweet, beautiful little twat. Run my tongue from that hot honey pot to her clit and back again.

"Please...please...please..."

I can barely hear her beg, but it's music to my ears. I slide two fingers into her, begin to stroke her. In seconds I've found her rhythm. Now, for the grand finale, I take that sensitive little nub, suck it into my mouth, then hold the flesh around it with my teeth, just enough gentle pressure to keep her from pulling away. Flick my tongue back and forth over it as quickly as I can...revel in the fact that I can 'talk' to her without having to stop what I'm doing to her...for her. 'Give it to me, Angel. Come for me.'

The whimper that always, always signals her impending orgasm fills her throat. I push my fingers deeper, harder, faster...and that whimper turns into her aria of love...a low, sweet moan that builds up in pitch and intensity until she cries out, and makes my heart pound against my ribs. I can feel the walls of her sweet well convulsing around my fingers, her fingers are clenched in my hair as she takes flight. That's my cue.

I slide up, bury myself to the hilt in her quivering body. Her arms and legs wrap around me in an instant, pulling me close, holding me tightly. Sweet Jesus, it just can't feel any better than this! Her hips are pushing up against me, grinding against me, I can feel her shiver each time. We begin that age old dance of love, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

She's using those muscles deep inside to hold me, massage the length of me. Oh yeah...that feels amazing! I push deep, just wait there for a minute. She clamps down on me, and I moan...without even realizing it until I hear the sound echoing in my ears. She relaxes, squeezes, moves her hips up and down, which rubs her cervix back and forth over the tip of my cock, and about drives me out of my mind. Then she clamps down and holds me tightly again.

"Love me, Daniel, fill me...let me feel you throb!"

That's something I haven't heard for awhile. And as always, that sweet whisper burns through my brain. My body is demanding action, and now! I start pumping my hips, thrusting into her hard and fast and deep and...oh god! This is what making love is about...not just that white hot feeling that's building in my belly, but the love that I feel flowing from her, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. It happens every time we make love. I don't know how we do it...send our emotions...our love...to one another. I only know that we can, and that I treasure that ability. I focus my thoughts on her, and feel the 'shiver' that happens when I 'send' my love to her.

I want deeper...need deeper...I want to crawl inside her! I reach for her legs, push them up against her shoulders. Oh, yeah. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the air around us, the scent of our love mingles with the soft smell of the breeze as it wafts into the room. Erotic. Sensual. Sexual. Incredible.

When her fingers move to my nipples, and begin tugging, it's more stimulation than I can take. I feel my release build...race up and down my spine...tingle in the base of my skull for just a second before I explode, waves of pleasure washing over me again and again. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm aware she has cried out, her second climax rocking her as well. "Casey!" Her name is always on my lips when I'm overcome by such pleasure...because she alone is the cause...the catalyst...the creator of that pleasure. Panting, shaking, I collapse onto her, unable to remain on my hands and knees any longer. 

She's wrapped around me again. Whispering how much she loves me. Holding me close while I try to catch my breath. I'm too heavy for her. I'm going to crush her if I don't roll over. It takes every ounce of energy I have left to move. I wrap my arms around her. Work my hands under that mane of blonde silk. Rub her back gently, from her shoulders to her hips. Her body moves up the tiniest bit, an effort to maintain contact with my hands. Her fingers are moving up and down my sides, caressing me so lightly that it makes me shiver.

"You're amazing," she whispers.

I can't help but grin. The woman is great for my ego. To listen to her I'm the best looking, smartest, most incredible lover that ever lived. I know my shortcomings well. I'm not any of those things...except in her eyes. And she's the only one whose opinion matters. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you serious about taking a vacation right away?"

I was almost asleep. The question wakes me right up. "Yeah, I am."

"Can we go to the resort on Langara?"

I think she likes that resort. It is nice. One of the most luxurious resorts on the planet. The fact that we get preferential treatment there, being Langaran heroes and all, well, that just adds to the appeal. "Sure, babe."

"The whole family?"

I smile again. "I'll talk to Jack and Teal'c."

She cuddles closer to me. As if she'd like to climb inside my skin with me. If I could figure out how to do it, I'd let her! I feel her yawn. "Go to sleep, Angel."

"You can be so bossy," she murmurs. Her breath is warm against my neck. She sits up, grabs the blankets, my body instantly cold from the sudden deprivation of her warmth. While she settles back against me, cuddles closer once again, I arrange the blankets over us. "Love you," she says softly. Just before she yawns for the second time.

"Love you too, Angel." I wait until I feel her relax against me, her breathing slow and steady, before I close my eyes. In a few hours, the alarm will go off. And we'll start all over again. That's not a bad thing. No, it's not a bad thing at all. I have a damned good life. I've been blessed with a gorgeous Wife. Three beautiful children. Good friends. A job that I love...most of the time. I never dreamed I would be in the position to actually help others, protect them. Archaeologists usually aren't known for their philanthropy. We're too focused on the past, and learning what we can from it to worry about the future, or pay much attention to the present. But I have found a place where my skills, my knowledge, contribute to both the present and the future. Can't complain about that.

She shifts slightly, I feel her nipples move against my skin. My cock twitches inside her. If she wasn't so tired, we'd go another round. Soft. Warm. She smells so good. She always smells so good...

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