Just Another Incident in the Alcohol Storage Room, by icedteainthebag
Title: Just Another Incident in the Alcohol Storage Room
Author: icedteainthebag
Summary: Ellen Tigh ruminates on how great she is and seduces a nugget in the process.
Characters: Boomer, Ellen Tigh
Pairings: Boomer/Ellen
Rating: MA
Warnings: none
Title, Author and URL of original story: Remix of geekbynight's "Raspberry Swirl", located at http://geekbynight.livejournal.com/56722.html
Beta Thanks: I flew solo on this one. Any mistakes are mine.
Author Notes: Set sometime pre-series. This was a good time, geekbynight. Thanks.
My name is Ellen Tigh, and if what I just did makes me an alcoholic, then so be it.
I've scored big time, and I'm pretty frakkin' happy about it. I'm not sure anybody realizes that all it takes is a quick blow job in the mechanic's head to gain access to the key to Galactica's sacred alcohol storage room.
Well worth it. Well worth it. Better than any currency.
I go for the good stuff first. Ambrosia tastes so good going down.
Much better than that guy I just sucked off.
I set aside a bottle to bring back to Saul. Oh, Saul. I don't think anyone realizes how much I love him. Frak, I don't think I realize how much I love him sometimes. It's just that he's never around and when he is all he does is talk about the Great Bill Adama and it's so frakking boring when all I've done is sit around all day counting down the days to shore leave. There are only so many places one can visit on a ship. I want to go to the frakkin' beach and get oiled up by some tanned, young pool boy.
Or, you know, my husband.
So I'm lounging on these boxes that I plan to break into very shortly when in walks the pretty young nugget with the long, dark hair and the lovely doe eyes--she looks so gods damned innocent all the time. But… but… I've noticed she's been looking at me way more than's necessary lately.
So convenient that she's stumbled upon me in my best state.
Saul tells me this one, I think her name's Boomer, always fraks up her landings and puts holes in the deck. He bitches that he doesn't understand how Bill can tolerate her frak-ups, but as I lay eyes upon her now, I've got a pretty good idea as to why Bill keeps her around.
He was always fond of a tight little ass.
"Are you drunk?" she asks. Simple as that.
When am I not nowadays. Oh, sweet innocence. Sweet… corruptible… innocence.
"I am," I declare, standing up and walking toward her. "And I'm horny as frak."
I'm an honest woman. It's why Saul likes me so damn much.
She looks caught in the headlights. I do that to people. "I… you… "
I'm close to her now and I sense the telltale signs of a hard-working nugget--a little sweat, a little grease, a little bit of attitude she still clings to despite their frequent attempts to work it out of her. I push the door shut behind her and she backs up against it. My chest brushes hers.
"You were saying?" I purr. I've mastered this shit. It rarely fails me.
"This is… wrong," she stutters.
Oh, precious. I grin at her, running my finger over her lips.
"No need to worry, it's just the two of us in here."
That's all it takes. I see the realization in her eyes. She wants to let loose but she is rarely given an opportunity to do so. Rigid discipline, structured routine. This is where I come in, no strings attached.
Every seduction is an exercise in power. I get off on it, probably too much, but it's the only control I have sometimes in this frakkin' miserable excuse for an existence as the XO's wife.
I get her on the floor easily--I'm on my back and she's above me with her curious expression, one of cautious acceptance--and our hands are everywhere. She's surprised to find that I'm wearing a corset. She's so sweet as she traces the laces and a low moan escapes her.
"You like it?" I ask, sifting my fingers through her silky, gorgeous hair. I'm not above begging for praise.
She blinks hard and nods. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I do."
It's so nice to get a reaction like that out of someone for once. It's one of the finer points of seeing new people all the time. There's a mystery to discover in each one of us.
Of course, her stunned reaction makes me wonder what other reactions she's having, and I'm not shy in my desire to find out. I feel her shiver as my hand slides down the front of her pants, and holy frak, she likes it. She likes it a lot. Her hips buck against my hand and I tease her, circling that little spot that makes her breath catch and tongue slide across her parted lips.
I want to make this girl pant; I want to make her writhe and pull my hair and come undone beneath me.
But, first, it's my turn. She knows it. I love being worshipped. I think I picked the right girl to do so.
She seems nothing if she isn't willing. Bill's found himself a good one.
Her mouth is hot and wet on my nipples; she takes a minute to get the hang of it. This might be new for her. But when she catches on, it sends a tingle across my skin. I moan as I work my palm against her, fingers inside her, and she suddenly stops what she's doing to tilt her head back and moan, her hips undulating against my hand.
"That's it," I whisper. Frak, I'm getting off on it too, sweetie. No worries.
I press harder against her slick heat, grinding my palm against the hardened nub under it. Like riding a bike, it's coming back to me. Her breathing changes and her hips begin to jerk erratically. I watch with a smile and she lets loose this tiny cry like a lost little kitten when she comes, her head falling to my chest.
Oh, how adorable is she?
I pull my hand out from between us and she looks up at me just as I'm taking a taste of her off my fingers. She looks awestruck, mesmerized. I know I do this to people; I've seen that look more times than I can count. I grin at her and slide my fingers over her lips as well. Her tongue follows.
"That's a good little nugget." I grab her hands and move them downward, pressing them against the outsides of my thighs. I've been good to her and it's time for her to return the favor.
She looks intrigued. I'm an intriguing gal. Her eyes narrow studiously as she moves down my body.
"Don't be shy," I say, pulling up my skirt. I'm so wanton I nearly laugh at myself. Frak me, I'm amazing. "I know you want to."
Who wouldn't?
She slips my panties down my legs. She's not looking at me; seems she's distracted by what she's just revealed. Doesn't matter to me. I'm interested to see if she takes on this mission with as much tenacity as the ones my husband sends her on.
The idea makes me wetter. I'm such a bitch sometimes.
I push her head down gently, lifting my hips and letting loose an encouraging whimper of expectation. She finally looks up at me, and there's something behind her gaze that catches my attention. It's usually after somebody comes, really lets their guard down, that you see their true nature. Looking at her, this girl's got secrets.
Baby, we've all got secrets.
"I can tell you're new to this, so let me teach you something, dear," I purr. "I call it the swirl… "
She chuckles, her fingers tracing my bare thighs. "Ellen, I already know it."
Author: icedteainthebag
Summary: Ellen Tigh ruminates on how great she is and seduces a nugget in the process.
Characters: Boomer, Ellen Tigh
Pairings: Boomer/Ellen
Rating: MA
Warnings: none
Title, Author and URL of original story: Remix of geekbynight's "Raspberry Swirl", located at http://geekbynight.livejournal.com/56722.html
Beta Thanks: I flew solo on this one. Any mistakes are mine.
Author Notes: Set sometime pre-series. This was a good time, geekbynight. Thanks.
My name is Ellen Tigh, and if what I just did makes me an alcoholic, then so be it.
I've scored big time, and I'm pretty frakkin' happy about it. I'm not sure anybody realizes that all it takes is a quick blow job in the mechanic's head to gain access to the key to Galactica's sacred alcohol storage room.
Well worth it. Well worth it. Better than any currency.
I go for the good stuff first. Ambrosia tastes so good going down.
Much better than that guy I just sucked off.
I set aside a bottle to bring back to Saul. Oh, Saul. I don't think anyone realizes how much I love him. Frak, I don't think I realize how much I love him sometimes. It's just that he's never around and when he is all he does is talk about the Great Bill Adama and it's so frakking boring when all I've done is sit around all day counting down the days to shore leave. There are only so many places one can visit on a ship. I want to go to the frakkin' beach and get oiled up by some tanned, young pool boy.
Or, you know, my husband.
So I'm lounging on these boxes that I plan to break into very shortly when in walks the pretty young nugget with the long, dark hair and the lovely doe eyes--she looks so gods damned innocent all the time. But… but… I've noticed she's been looking at me way more than's necessary lately.
So convenient that she's stumbled upon me in my best state.
Saul tells me this one, I think her name's Boomer, always fraks up her landings and puts holes in the deck. He bitches that he doesn't understand how Bill can tolerate her frak-ups, but as I lay eyes upon her now, I've got a pretty good idea as to why Bill keeps her around.
He was always fond of a tight little ass.
"Are you drunk?" she asks. Simple as that.
When am I not nowadays. Oh, sweet innocence. Sweet… corruptible… innocence.
"I am," I declare, standing up and walking toward her. "And I'm horny as frak."
I'm an honest woman. It's why Saul likes me so damn much.
She looks caught in the headlights. I do that to people. "I… you… "
I'm close to her now and I sense the telltale signs of a hard-working nugget--a little sweat, a little grease, a little bit of attitude she still clings to despite their frequent attempts to work it out of her. I push the door shut behind her and she backs up against it. My chest brushes hers.
"You were saying?" I purr. I've mastered this shit. It rarely fails me.
"This is… wrong," she stutters.
Oh, precious. I grin at her, running my finger over her lips.
"No need to worry, it's just the two of us in here."
That's all it takes. I see the realization in her eyes. She wants to let loose but she is rarely given an opportunity to do so. Rigid discipline, structured routine. This is where I come in, no strings attached.
Every seduction is an exercise in power. I get off on it, probably too much, but it's the only control I have sometimes in this frakkin' miserable excuse for an existence as the XO's wife.
I get her on the floor easily--I'm on my back and she's above me with her curious expression, one of cautious acceptance--and our hands are everywhere. She's surprised to find that I'm wearing a corset. She's so sweet as she traces the laces and a low moan escapes her.
"You like it?" I ask, sifting my fingers through her silky, gorgeous hair. I'm not above begging for praise.
She blinks hard and nods. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I do."
It's so nice to get a reaction like that out of someone for once. It's one of the finer points of seeing new people all the time. There's a mystery to discover in each one of us.
Of course, her stunned reaction makes me wonder what other reactions she's having, and I'm not shy in my desire to find out. I feel her shiver as my hand slides down the front of her pants, and holy frak, she likes it. She likes it a lot. Her hips buck against my hand and I tease her, circling that little spot that makes her breath catch and tongue slide across her parted lips.
I want to make this girl pant; I want to make her writhe and pull my hair and come undone beneath me.
But, first, it's my turn. She knows it. I love being worshipped. I think I picked the right girl to do so.
She seems nothing if she isn't willing. Bill's found himself a good one.
Her mouth is hot and wet on my nipples; she takes a minute to get the hang of it. This might be new for her. But when she catches on, it sends a tingle across my skin. I moan as I work my palm against her, fingers inside her, and she suddenly stops what she's doing to tilt her head back and moan, her hips undulating against my hand.
"That's it," I whisper. Frak, I'm getting off on it too, sweetie. No worries.
I press harder against her slick heat, grinding my palm against the hardened nub under it. Like riding a bike, it's coming back to me. Her breathing changes and her hips begin to jerk erratically. I watch with a smile and she lets loose this tiny cry like a lost little kitten when she comes, her head falling to my chest.
Oh, how adorable is she?
I pull my hand out from between us and she looks up at me just as I'm taking a taste of her off my fingers. She looks awestruck, mesmerized. I know I do this to people; I've seen that look more times than I can count. I grin at her and slide my fingers over her lips as well. Her tongue follows.
"That's a good little nugget." I grab her hands and move them downward, pressing them against the outsides of my thighs. I've been good to her and it's time for her to return the favor.
She looks intrigued. I'm an intriguing gal. Her eyes narrow studiously as she moves down my body.
"Don't be shy," I say, pulling up my skirt. I'm so wanton I nearly laugh at myself. Frak me, I'm amazing. "I know you want to."
Who wouldn't?
She slips my panties down my legs. She's not looking at me; seems she's distracted by what she's just revealed. Doesn't matter to me. I'm interested to see if she takes on this mission with as much tenacity as the ones my husband sends her on.
The idea makes me wetter. I'm such a bitch sometimes.
I push her head down gently, lifting my hips and letting loose an encouraging whimper of expectation. She finally looks up at me, and there's something behind her gaze that catches my attention. It's usually after somebody comes, really lets their guard down, that you see their true nature. Looking at her, this girl's got secrets.
Baby, we've all got secrets.
"I can tell you're new to this, so let me teach you something, dear," I purr. "I call it the swirl… "
She chuckles, her fingers tracing my bare thighs. "Ellen, I already know it."