The First Time

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Warning: This was one of two Stargate SG-1 entries into oxoniensis’ Porn Battle 9, so it obviously involves sexual situations. If that’s not your cup of Earl Grey, read no further. Prompt was “Daniel Jackson/Sha’re, first”. It’s been tweaked for grammatical issues and repetitive adjectives. This is also the first SG-1 fic I’ve ever written.

Disclaimer/Legal Notice: Daniel Jackson and Sha’re are the product of someone else’s imagination, not mine. I’m just borrowing them for a bit.

He could still remember the first time he saw her undress for him. Her dark hair framed her beautiful dark face, her eyes alight and her sun-bronzed skin deep with a blush. The barest hint of a smile graced her full lips, and was all she wore.

She had been so beautiful.

He, on the other hand, had been awkward — eyes and mouth agog as he stared. The power she possessed to take his breath away was downright mystical. She pulled him close to her naked body, pulling the clothing he wore off and away, until his own flesh was exposed to her sight.

He felt utterly vulnerable and in awe of her, a callow mooncalf before a goddess made of flesh and blood. But her smile deepened and she purred, “My handsome Dan’iel.” The curious inflection she pronounced in his name caused a shiver to go down his spine; not from cold, but from the desire it sparked.

God, she was gorgeous.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss and she pulled him down on top of her. Feverish with wont, his hands explored her body swiftly as much as she would allow and his lips followed. He groped wantonly, needing to touch every part of her, kiss every part of her, but having no idea where to start…

She chuckled softly. “Steady, my love. We have the whole night ahead of us.”

He laughed, embarrassed. “I… uh… I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she replied tenderly, taking his hands into hers and placing them against the ample curve of her breasts. “Just touch me, Dan’iel.”

His hands kneaded at her breasts then, and his mouth soon followed. Her quiet laugh expelled in a burst of hot breath against his face. Whenever he faltered, her hands took his to lead him on.

Though he knew how his painful inexperience inhibited his overtures, he was also keenly aware that the soft moans and whimpers she gave at his attempts to please her were quite genuine. That gave him the courage to continue, as his beautiful bride — seeming to possess an enchantment meant for him alone — seduced him completely and urged him onto new delights.

Feeling braver, he decided to experiment a little — based on erotic images and texts he’d happened across in his career in archeology, naturally. He was pleased that she was willing, and sincerely enjoyed the alterations he made. She was young and full of energy, keeping him going when his confidence flagged.

Eventually, they were simply drawn together; her long, lithe legs around his waist as he thrusted into her in the way his sweet, lusty wife begged him to. Her cries of pleasure were muffled by the curtains that hung inside the tent, their bodies entangled on a bed of soft cloth.

Finally, they collapsed together, spent from the ardor and content now to lay beside one another. She curled up against him, her dark curls floating over his chest and murmured in that lovely accented way that so ensorcelled him, “I love you, Dan’iel.”

Now, years later, the bitter emptiness that had appeared when they had stolen her from him had never waned. He wanted to scream, or cry, or… maybe just beat the hell out of something. It never got easier… and his memories of their beautiful simple days and hotly passionate nights now taunted him.

He would always ache for her, his beloved Sha’re. And he would never stop searching.


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Mostly, I write stuff. And, like the Egyptians and the Internet, I put cat pictures on my walls. Also, I can read your Tarot.