Jack seems to think 'clothes make the man.' I do have to admit that when I opened the door and saw him standing there in shades, *those* pants and *that* leather jacket, I gave a special prayer to the maker of the baggy pants I was wearing. At least baggy hides a multitude of my of sins. Sins such as erections that *spring* up on unsuspecting linguists when their lovers appear dressed in clothes that bring illicit thoughts to said linguist's mind in all 26 languages.

So here I am standing in front of my closet, Jack stretched out on my bed, and the proverbial light bulb has just gone on over my head. I know where Jack is going with this...and I am so going to enjoy jerking his chain.

From his command post, he orders me to change shirts. To make Jack believe he has the upper hand, I do a little protest of sorts...and then acquiesce. My back is facing Jack, so he is not privy to the evil little smile that is on my face. I make a charade of moving around the hangers in my closet, but I know the shirt I am going for. The one Cassie bought me because it "brought out the blue in my eyes." I tuck it in and slowly turn towards Jack. The sight of him stretched out on my bed, pillows behind his head...I swallow...and will the blood flow in my body to resume.

I blink in surprise as he orders me to "take off my pants." I slowly, and I hope what can be construed as seductively, begin to slide out of my pants...that strip tease song starts to play in my mind and I have visions of me shaking my ass and swinging my pants over my head. Five feet away...he is laying not five feet away on my bed, watching me get undressed. Five feet away, stretched out with those long legs encased in those tight dark jeans...and that sweater...I commence praying that my boxers can hide my growing erection.

Okay...now he is asking for a complete change of clothes. I chuckle to myself, taking in the pillow placed right where...oh, Jack...you are so going to pay for this.

I am going to make my Colonel suffer. I watch him shift uncomfortably as I slide in and out of pants, in and out of shirts. Buttons, zipping, snapping. This has come back to bite me in the ass, when I realize I am suffering just as much as he is. He eyes my boxers...I eye the pillow...this charade better end soon...before I have an orgasm just knowing that he is watching me dress and undress.

Leather or jeans...leather or jeans. Well, if one doesn't work...the other one will. I opt for the jeans, the leather pants require me to actually lay down to zip them. Would kinda kill the mood. The black tee shirt is a given... I slip it over my head and turn toward Jack, the evil grin flashing across my face as I see that he has closed his eyes in what I believe to be silent prayer. Pray all you want, oh Colonel of mine...your ass will be mine in like ...10, 9, 8, 7...well, hello there!

Pillow flying, Jack jumps off the bed, grabs my ass, and pulls me toward him. I offer myself silent congratulations on my choice of clothing. I think I'm actually whimpering as I feel his fingers make a connection with my long-suffering penis. I reciprocate by shoving my hands down the front of his pants and shoving my tongue down his throat.

He pushes me down on the bed...and we become tangle of arms, legs, testosterone, and erections. I make out two sentence amidst our grunting and groaning...Jack telling me to be 'careful of your pants, I really like those' and to 'lose the fuckin' boxers, Daniel.'

* * * *

Oh...I drift into reality, opening my eyes...observing what a mess the bedroom is from my little strip tease. I give Jack a moan of appreciation and he rewards me by kissing my neck, down to my still heaving chest. I pull him towards me...losing myself in this kiss. I feel Jack's erection against my leg and I move to...shit answer the phone.

Jack picks up the phone...I pick up right where I had left off with tiny strokes...Carter? I drop the penis down like a hot potato...much to Jack's chagrin and am reprimanded for *not* touching the merchandise.

Shit...Janet's house. We're late...I look at the clock...we are very late. Jack hangs up the phone..."Get dressed Daniel. Time to put the clothes back on." I reach for the jeans folded neatly on the chair next to the bed. "Not those...save those...for me. Why don't you just go with the plaid instead?"