Characters belong to Steve Franks and the producers of Psych. I'm only here for a lot of fun.

"Ow!"

"Oops, sorry babe…"

"Shawn, seriously, is there a game coming on? Because this is not sexy."

Sitting back, the young man dropped his hands from his girlfriend's hips. By his watch, they both should have at least been mostly naked by now. However, obviously oblivious to the somewhat pressing problem he was enduring, Juliet had decided she wanted to play tortoise to his hare. Pausing for breath while he fought to keep himself from losing it before he even got his jeans off- how embarrassing- he bit into his lip- no need to worry about blood loss from THAT location- and sighed as he spread his arms, allowing her to strip him at the pace she desired.

Shirt first, followed lethargically by his socks- each one rolled down the ankle and off his toes in a very deliberate manner. He nearly whimpered when she finally lifted her hands to his waistband.

"Isn't it better like this? See, if we'd done this your way it'd be all over already and we'd be in the kitchen and making sandwiches."

He shuddered as her breath heated against his belly.

"Oh yeah, I can see how that'd be terrible…"

She giggled, and the resulting effects on his flesh scattered goose bumps across his body followed by a thrilling shiver. "I like that… I like that very mu… Nuuuh!!" The tongue flicking into his navel nearly undid him then and there.

Lost in another inner battle, he didn't notice when her hands undid his button or zipper, the next sensation being his jeans easing carefully from his hips. Boxers too, boxers too… dammit! Still determined to carry this out her way, the light cotton was left in place- though they weren't hiding anything by now.

A circling press of two fingertips soothed against his torso, the slight pressure urging him to sit on the edge of the bed, which he did so a bit clumsily.

"Can I just say, for the record, I'm glad I'm not eating a sandwich right now?"

Juliet looked up at him, brushing the hair from her eyes. "What about that half pan of chicken enchiladas in the fridge?"

He scratched his chin. "You do make a valid point…"

Her fingers tugged at his remaining garment, encouraging to lift his hips to release the stretchy band from his waist. "So do you." She said, grinning. And all thoughts of food vanished when she took him in her mouth.

"Oh God, Jules- JULES!!" His hands clawed at the bedding, more desperate than ever to keep himself under control- thighs trembling as he held his body as still as he was able.

Meanwhile, Juliet's tongue was doing wicked things- laving at the underside of his length while teeth tapped lightly- just hard enough to raise sparks behind his eyes. One hand circled him while the other massaged his hip- a combination of stern control and driving him crazy.

Heat and wet and gentle sucking. She was killing him more effectively than just pressing a gun against his head and pulling the trigger. The ache in his loins was worsening with every passing second- the mistake of looking down at what she was doing to him forcing an involuntary jerk. Uh oh…

"Please… Jules… I'm… I'm gonna…"

She released him just in time, his gut throbbing with the denial- so close he thought that even thinking about it might be too much.

Speech was beyond him at this point, his mushy brain only capable of one command. Keep it together. If you don't, the next time you see your balls will be when she serves them to you for dinner.

He'd made that error once. The warning did not need to be repeated. Spencer men learned their lessons when it came to women.

Okay, that was complete bullshit out of left field. However, Shawn could say very accurately that he'd learned his lesson with THIS woman. Which was good, considering her hand was still wrapped around his dick.

But he was teetering. If she moved that thumb it was all over. Thankfully, she'd grown very adept at reading him over the last few months. Instead of a control shattering stroke, she stepped away from his body, allowing him to breathe deeply while she began stripping off her own clothes. He watched, never able to get enough of all her curves- nor the fact that she wanted him to see her. It was both the most breathtaking and most erotic thing he'd ever experienced. Actually… maybe the second most considering where her mouth had just been.

Bea Arthur, Betty White, hell the whole cast of Golden Girls- just picture them naked… come on you horndog, they are NOT masturbatory in any way!!

Arguing wasn't helping much, but it got him through the Demi Moore in a sequined bikini moment.

And then, even less dressed than him considering his underpants were still encircling his ankles, Juliet returned- one hand against his chest pressing him until most of his body was no longer vertical.

Lips tackled his throat, teeth coming out to play once more as he groaned at the delicate assault. Smooth nails glided over his chest, dragging across his ribs tickilishly before the fingers rose back up to his collarbone.

With her hands braced, she slid over his body.

She gasped as she sank down into his lap. Shawn held her hips tightly, tipping his head into his pillow as, after a moment, she started to move.

Slow, rocking motions- bed creaking from the rhythm- she started them off with the same steady pace as every second since she'd taken over- what seemed like three hours ago.

He couldn't take it.

"Sorry Jules!" Grasping one hand around the back of her head, he suddenly rolled her, flipping her onto her back and pulling her legs around his waist. Her startled shout quickly melted into a delighted cry as he thrust hard- lips walking across her breast- tongue lapping at her nipple. Her hands grasped at him- one fisted in his hair while the other clutched his hip just like he'd gripped her moments ago.

The ache was building again- rising fast with each hard thrust- each groan- each frantic gasp until Juliet suddenly arced from the bed and screamed his name.

Her heat throbbing around him was lighting, fingers dug into her hips as the flood poured through his belly- igniting flames like frozen fire. He couldn't stop- he needed to… and crying out something unintelligible, he came forcefully- hips jerking while the little men that controlled his circuits abruptly went insane and pounded the overload button.

A few extremely vocal and screamed yes's would have fit in perfectly right about then- but audible speech had vacated along with any thought other than ohmyGodohGodmoremorefuckyesJulesGOD!

Ramrod tight, he held himself rigidly above her until the remaining contractions passed from his body- the soothing balm of heavy satiation gelling his bones and sagging his liquid self off his love and onto the not so springtime fresh bedding beneath them.

Only one organ remained functional to remind him he was still alive- his heart ramming so fast he was pretty sure it couldn't be healthy. But as cliché as it was, he had no problem dying if he could go out like this.

Well, maybe one more smoothie would be nice…

Juliet's hand slapped his chest.

"Ow!"

"You promised it was MY turn this time!"

He rubbed at the new dent in his sternum. "Come on Jules, I totally let you pick the pace!"

Her evaluating look had him folding quickly. "Okay, for a while I let you pick the pace."

Eye roll and she easily lifted herself from the mattress, a feat he wouldn't be duplicating for the next two days given the state of his muscles.

Hooking a robe from the floor, the young woman wrapped it around her form- drawing a small whine from the melted goo on the bed- before walking for the door.

"I think I'm gonna go make a sandwich." She said brightly as she stepped into the hall.

Flopping uselessly, Shawn kicked his legs- realizing at the same time that his boxers were still tangled around his ankles- which unfortunately didn't sink in until he tried to lurch after Juliet only to smack against the floor with his ass in the air.

Squirming around until he could wrestle back on to the bed, he was a loose and sexy panther just as the woman popped her head back inside. "Are you okay? I heard a crash."

Hands behind his head, complete and practiced innocence on his face, Shawn grinned wide enough to give Jack Nicholson a run for his money.

"I'm just fine sweetie dumpling cakes."

Now that was a painful glare.

He quickly pulled one leg across his lap.

"Can I have a sandwich too?"

Her parting shot didn't contain any words.

"You know, in some countries that's an invitation!"