Title: Sensations (REVISED VERSION) - for those who want the original version...ummmm...too bad?)
Author: tigermoth26
Rating: R - sex...lots of it.
Category: PWP Daniel/Janet UST..RST SomethingST hehe
Spoilers: none!
Summary: If you imagine that the plot is not there, it
will bend for you. And then you will realize...There
is no plot. (Or spoon, for that matter, either).
Disclaimer: Dan, Jan and the stargate gang do not
belong to me. Please don't sue me. I will not be

Notes: Thanks to Bryn, who beta-read the original version of this fic.

Thanks also to Shaure, who beta-read the fic after the second changes so that it would fit in with the series
(I still have to write the prequel...but that's beside the point.)

To the rest of my fellow shippers, enjoy! :)

And send feedback while you're at it, okay!


Sliding her tingling body up across his warm, lightly
tanned skin, trailing her lips and tongue from one
muscled shoulder to the other. The scent of his sweat
and the chiseled contours of his collarbone, lovingly
carved by nature like Michelangelo's David,
only this David is pulsing and warm to her

She feels the heat of him, straining against her
thigh. It would be so tempting to simply forego all
teasing and cut straight to the chase, but no. The
first time only happens once, this sweet torture will
be made to last.

She whispers his name against his jaw as she feels his
fingertips brushing over the side of her rounded
breast. He is so beautiful, he may even be described
as 'divine'. What is this emotion that she has for
him? She wonders, staring at him intently through
half-lidded eyes. He is looking right back at her,
irises as clear as blue glass marbles.

What is it? What is this sensation... lust?
Excitement? Longing? Perhaps. Those thoughts are
banished with the capture of her lips with his. He
wants her. She wants him. Enough of this foreplay,
enough. Let them get on with the task and have it
done with.

Ah, patience, Little Grasshopper. All is fair in love
and war, this tale is far from done. His hands, they
trail up to her hair. One dislodges the bobby pins
still holding it in a neat regulation bun. The other
trails back down her side again, moving across to
caress enticingly over her rear.

She is tingling, her blood riots through her veins
like Quicksilver, alive, humming. Another kiss. The
snatch of teeth, the slick slide of tongues. I want
you. They burn a fire.

With a gasp they break apart; the nerves love
sensation, but the lungs still need air. He looks at
her with eyes smiling, wire rimmed glasses all askew.
There is that feeling again. Like tectonic plates
shuddering apart. Earthquake. Heartquake? Who
knows. It's an intense emotion, whatever it is. It's
definitely a good thing. That is for certain.

He turns them so that she lies on her side, facing
him. "Follow me." She follows his actions with her
hand on his body as he trails his soft fingertips over
her nose, across her lips, underneath her chin. They
mirror each other, her hand glides slowly across his
chest, over the ridges, through the valleys. Heading
slowly, down, down. Five trails of fire, blazing a
path of sensation across her pale skin.

It is like a form of worship. Je pense, donc je suis.
Whose body becomes your altar?

His hand slips further to delve into her curls. Her
eyes slide shut at the sensation of his fingers as
they move across the superheated flesh. "Daniel,"
she urges, bringing her hands up to caress his face.
He kisses her. On the tip of the nose, and then
urgently on her mouth. She moves her left leg so that
her thigh rests over his hips. His fingers still work
their teasing magic as she whispers to him with
mewling sighs.

Finally he relents, and ceases his wondrous torture.
She flips them so that she is on her back, him
straddled over her. He fumbles over the nightstand
for the foil-wrapped packet, tearing it open with
trembling hands and handing the contents to her. With
fingers touching they roll the latex on. They look
deeply into each other's eyes. Are you sure you want


She guides him to her, he pushes in. Oh, what sinful
friction. Volcanic heat. They cling together for a
moment once he is wholly within her. They savor the
feeling. There is that feeling. That slow, gentle
burn. Is it love? Or is it fate. Maybe a hybrid of
the two...


Slowly, exquisitely, he begins to rock against her. A
silent homage to her body and soul, punctuated by the
prayer of her name. They worship each other wholly.
They dance the primitive dance taught to men of
ancient times.

This is what it is. This is my heart. Together they
ride the pathway to enlightenment. The answer to that
question. What is this feeling?

As together they reach their climax in the heat of
their prayer, she sees the answer, plain and true.

It is there, in his eyes, the way he holds her in the
aftermath. The way she kisses his eyelids, bodies
glistening with sweat. It is the warmth in her heart,
the tenderness of his touch. This is what it is.

This is love.


With a start, Janet awoke from the vivid sensations of her sleep.


Damnit. This was not what she needed. Her friendship with him was
ruined enough as it was, without her having to go about dreaming
erotic dreams about him.

This was it. She needed to talk. She picked up the phone and
dialed in the number.


"Hey Sam, it's me. Janet. Sorry for calling you so early...I just
think I need to talk."


eheheheheh ehehe hehehe hehe gotcha that time ey!!!! Ahhhhh so lame, so lame :)

Feedback? Anyone?