BSG Fic...
The evening had been a disaster.
It usually was when you mixed alcohol with Ellen Tigh.
It usually was when you mixed anything with Ellen Tigh.
The guests had finally left, leaving behind empty plates and liquor-stained glasses. And far more empty bottles than had been wise.
He was alone.
Except for the woman on the table.
She’d stayed despite his protests. Ostensibly to help clean the mess. Actually to ask quiet but pointed questions about Ellen. About Tigh. Her words were carefully measured, eyes fixing him with a curious look he couldn’t classify. That he didn’t want to examine too closely.
He had better things to consider.
She caught his eye, draining the glass before holding it out to him with an enigmatic smile. She’d begun sneaking sips from her untouched glass the moment the hatch closed, no longer in need of her full facilities to navigate the Tighs. He snagged the glass as he strode past, chuckling as he placed it with the rest of the dirty dishes. Ellen was enough to make anyone drink.
He tactically stayed just out of her eye-line as he walked back to the table, letting his eyes drop to look at her legs. They were crossed primly but higher than usual, forcing her skirt to climb her thighs. The fabric inched even higher as she reclined back on her hands and tilted her head slightly, speculative look sizing him up.
“I’m so hot.”
He must have misheard her.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m hot.”
Yes you are.
He couldn’t help the stray thought. He blinked and looked at her again. She was playing with the top button of her shirt, fanning the material against her cleavage.
“I’m not well versed on military protocol. Do you people keep it this hot on purpose? Is it some sort of method to keep your men from misbehaving?”
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was toying with him.
He shook his head, trying to banish the ridiculous thought from his mind. Collecting the last few ambrosia bottles, he did his damndest to ignore the scent of her perfume. The scent followed as he dropped the bottles in a bin for recycling.
He could swear that her skirt had climbed even higher when his back was turned.
The creamy underside of her thigh peeked out from under the hem, just a hint of toned muscle taunting him. Her shirt gaped far wider than was proper, as she dropped her head back and absently toyed with the fabric.
He was honorable. He wasn't a fool.
Job complete, he walked back to the table, tactically sneaking as many glances as he could. Snagged the nearest chair and sat in front of her carefully positioning himself for a clear view of her revealed skin.
She considered him for a moment before shifting closer, shoes clattering as they dropped from her toes to the deck.
“You want me.”
His head jerked up, eyes meeting hers in shock. He was far too surprised to deny it.
He couldn’t if he’d wanted to.
“I’m sorry?”
“You want me to finish cleaning up?” She giggled. Offering a perfect view down her cleavage as she leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially.
“A woman likes to be wanted.”
There was no safe response to that statement.
He’d wanted her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Or at least, the moment he’d laid eyes on her legs. But it was impossible. It was irresponsible. It was out of the question.
She was the President of the Frakkin' Colonies.
And she was unbuttoning her shirt.
“Madame President, what are you doing?”
Her sultry tone sliced through him.
“What do you think I’m doing, Mr Adama?”
He was starting to think it was time to break his preconceptions about Laura Roslin.
The crimson shirt draped over his head before he got any further.
He was drunk.
He was hallucinating.
It was the only explanation.
He swallowed hard, trying to school his expression. Sucking in deep breaths flavored with her scent, he gathered his strength before pulling the fabric off his head.
She was standing on the table now, grinning down the long lines of her body. Breasts displayed exquisitely in a red bra. Hands playing along the waist of a skirt somehow smaller than he remembered.
He couldn’t move.
He could barely breathe.
Her hips began to sway as she stood before him. Her head cocked to the side, thick red locks spilling over bare skin as she considered him.
“I’m feeling underdressed. You should take your jacket off.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea. Your arms are surprisingly sculpted.”
Her hands skimmed down her torso, slipping behind her back and reaching for the clasp of her skirt. “Or do I need to make that an order?”
“You’re drunk.”
“I outrank you.”
The rooms were growing hotter by the moment. His hands began moving before he realized it, dutifully following orders and stripping off the sash and jacket of his dress grays. Draping them carefully across the back of his chair.
He heard a swoosh of fabric behind him.
He was almost afraid to turn around.
He wasn't going to be outdone by a schoolteacher.
His eyes followed the arch of her foot, toe pointing as she stretched. The bones curved into delicate ankles and exquisitely sculpted calves. Greedy eyes traced the bare flesh. Guiltily memorized each forbidden inch. Drank in the flawless skin of her impossibly long legs.
He’d stop when he reached her skirt. Her panties. Her bra. Some type of clothing to hide her creamy skin from his gaze.
He never did.
“Like the view?”
Her smoky tone sliced through his simmering arousal, shooting straight to his dick. He fidgeted in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs slightly, uniform pants uncomfortably tight across his suddenly rock-hard prick.
He tried to look indifferent, to keep his eyes on her face. She smirked at the tactic and sank to her knees on the table, a devilish glint coloring her eyes.
A slender hand rose to her temple. Her head dropped back, baring the long line of her neck as her fingers combed through the thick auburn tresses. She hummed again, curving into the touch of her hand, trailing lazy fingers across her jawline before stopping at her mouth. Her tongue flicked out wickedly, lapping at the digits with kittenish licks.
His eyes widened. She giggled, teeth nipping the tips of her fingers before trailing them down her neck to capture a breast and tug at the nipple with wet fingers. Her sultry grin deepened when his eyes followed, entranced as she began to touch herself.
He clenched his jaw and forced himself to behave. To look away from the erotic display and meet her eyes.
“Madame President.”
“Always so proper, Mr. Adama…”
He started at the sound of the second voice. Sharper, tinged with a hint of careless cruelty as it mocked him. Ellen smirked triumphantly as her mouth dropped to kiss Laura’s shoulder. As her slim hands slid down Laura’s arms, gliding around her torso to push aside the President’s hands and claim her full breasts.
Laura sighed into the touch, sensually pressing into Ellen’s hands as the blonde kneaded her curves, plumping and squeezing rhythmically with her palms. Teasing her nipples into sharp, rosy peaks.
Laura’s head lolled back against Ellen’s shoulder, her entire body undulating in time with Ellen’s clever fingers. With a long moan, Laura turned her head, mouth dancing along the other woman’s cheek before latching onto her lower lip. His breath caught as their mouths connected. As Laura sucked on her prize, nibbling forcefully at Ellen’s lips before threading a hand into blonde hair and pushing her tongue into her mouth.
“Frak.”
They barely spared him a glance, ignoring his soft cursing and restless fidgeting in his unyielding chair.
Laura coaxed Ellen’s tongue into her mouth and sucked on it. Turned in her arms, lifting them both onto their knees, flaunting their bodies for him as they embraced. As they plundered each other’s mouths with long, wet, lazy kisses.
Their bodies aligned perfectly, winding sensually as their tongues frakked. Breasts slotted together, full curves rubbing and plumping in an erotic display. Their hands were everywhere, groping and squeezing slicking skin. Exploring smooth curves. Twisting through thick hair. Cupping supple breasts.
He wanted to get out of his chair. Wanted to wedge himself between them and feel their curves rubbing against his chest. His cheek. His dick. Wanted to be the reason for the loud, sexy moans escaping them both. For the musky scent filling the stuffy air of the cabin as their arousal heightened. His breathing grew deeper, sharper as he tried to inhale as much of their sweet smell as possible.
Laura’s mouth worked down Ellen’s body. Nipping and sucking ruthlessly as she scored Ellen’s collarbone with hard kisses. As she licked across the swells of Ellen’s breasts and tongued her nipples.
Ellen’s hands wove deep into Laura’s hair, breasts shoving further into her mouth. Laura looked up slyly, lips curling around Ellen’s skin. She indulged the blonde for a moment, humming as she buried her face in ample cleavage, swirling her tongue in intoxicating patterns. Lulling Ellen’s eyes closed before snagging a nipple with her teeth and biting hard.
A strangled noise ripped from Ellen’s throat, an intoxicating cross between a laugh and moan.
“The kindergarten teacher is such a naughty girl. Who would have thought it?”
The words morphed into a shriek. Laura buried two fingers deep inside Ellen’s cunt. Frakked her hard with short strokes before pulling her fingers out just as abruptly. Before painting Ellen’s lips with slick fingers and biting it off with rough kisses. Her hands slid down past the other woman’s waist, nails digging into the supple flesh of Ellen’s ass.
“The kindergarten teacher should teach you how to behave.”
Laura’s hand smacked firmly against her ass cheek, sharp slap echoing loud through the room and through his blood. Ellen groaned wantonly, her back bowing, grin spreading as Laura kneaded the reddened flesh. Ellen’s ass thrust, greedy and demanding into the slender fingers spreading and slapping and teasing the cheeks.
Laura shook her head in wry disapproval. “And someone needs to show you how to play well with others.”
Ellen chuckled. Darted forward and bit Laura’s swollen lips. Snaked a hand down to twist hard at a nipple, lifting Laura’s breast with the force.
“I don’t play nice.” Wicked eyes glanced over at him. “But I wouldn’t mind some practice sharing…”
His entire body tightened at the suggestion, even as the two women entwined in front of him in a sinful display of skin and tongues and arousal.
“You’ve thought about it.”
He opened his mouth to protest. Ellen scoffed, harsh laugh drowning his unformed denial.
“Don’t bother lying. I know you have. I know you’ve laid there in your rack and wondered what it’d be like. Wondered if I’m really as good in bed as you think. Wondered if you could shut me up if you frakked me hard enough. I know you’ve jerked yourself off and thought about me.”
He opened his mouth to deny it.
The words never came.
Laura lifted her mouth from Ellen’s skin to look back at him, sultry voice ensnaring his attention.
“I know how you look at me, Soldier.” His body jerked with guilty arousal, stunned that she knew. At the come-hither look piercing through him.
“You watch me.” She moaned slightly as Ellen’s hands began roaming her body with purpose again. They swirled nonsensical patterns across her skin, waiting for a direction. Waiting for Laura to continue.
“I see the way you look at my breasts. The way you angle your head to get a better look down my shirt and into my cleavage.” Ellen cupped her tits, squeezing them together and thumbing the pebbled nipples. Laura mewled as the blonde lowered her head to suckle them.
She sucked in a deep, ragged breath, before continuing.
“I see the way you look at my legs.” Ellen’s hands skated down the redhead’s body to caress the long limbs. “See the way you watch as I walk down the corridors. The way you try to sneak looks up my skirt when I climb the ladders on this ship. See the way you stare at my ass.”
Ellen’s hands cupped the perfectly rounded flesh, massaging rhythmically in time with her mouth. Laura’s eyes slid closed. Her voice was thick when she continued, heavy with want.
“I’ve seen you staring at my ass, trying to decide what’s under my skirt. You should know, you’re right. It’s a thong.” Ellen’s finger skimmed lightly up the crack of her ass. “When I’m wearing anything at all…”
His hips began moving without his permission. Undulating into the air, thrusting against flesh that was too far away.
Gods he wanted them.
He couldn’t move.
“I see the way you watch my mouth. Do you imagine me sliding to my knees between your legs and sucking you off? Or would your rather splay me across your bed and eat me out?”
Laura opened her eyes lazily, playfully tossing her hair and staring at him through sultry, half-lidded eyes.
“Do you like watching, Mr. Adama?”
“He always did. Never wanted to take the reins and get his hands dirty.”
Ellen turned Laura back to face him, fingers sliding down the other woman’s curves as she spoke. Laura’s legs parted eagerly at the touch, back arching as she threw a hand back for balance. As Ellen’s fingers dipped past reddish curls and into her glistening cunt.
“Frak yes.”
He could barely hear Laura’s guttural groan, her low pitched curses as Ellen began to tease her. As clever fingers tickled her wetness, tracing feathery touches along her labia and clit before pushing two fingers deep inside her. Laura’s body arched, toes curling, breasts displayed wantonly as she ground into Ellen’s hand.
He couldn’t help himself. His hand covered his dick, firmly squeezing the rigid flesh before attacking the zipper of his pants. The simple fastenings were suddenly impossibly complicated, too difficult to navigate when he was this frakking hard. This frakking turned on.
Ellen’s hand stilled abruptly, slipping out of Laura’s body. Laura whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He groaned at the desperate moan. At the wet sound when Laura’s cunt released Ellen’s fingers. At the slick arousal pooled between her thighs. Her legs shifted restlessly spreading even farther, heels digging into the table and opening her even more to his gaze. Tilting her hips up and offering herself to him.
He couldn’t move.
“You going to sit there all day and enjoy the view, or are you going to get your ass over here and do something?”
Laura’s words seared through him, dick throbbing more than he thought possible. He finally regained control of his body, jumping out of the chair and stepping towards the table.
A strong hand on his shoulder stopped him, planting him roughly back into the seat.
“Not you, Son.”
His stomach curdled as his father’s voice husked behind him.
“Go back to your bunk, Lee. I’ll finish clearing the table.”
The next thing he knew, his father was striding past him, naked and smug as he joined the two women.
They welcomed him eagerly. Wantonly arched into his touch. Twined their bodies with his. Moaned loudly as the three of them knotted into a sensual, sweaty heap of mouths and hands and desire and frakking.
Laura shrieked as he slid into her, coming instantly around his prick, body never stopping its convulsions. Ellen groaned as his mouth claimed her body, as he pleasured them both at the same time.
Lee was transfixed.
He was horrified.
He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t tell them to stop. He couldn’t move.
And it wasn’t physically possible for his father’s dick to be that frakking huge…
Lee jerked away, shooting upright in his bunk. His head hit the ceiling with a sickening thud. He dropped back against the pillow, quickly losing his grip on consciousness.
He could only hope he’d forget it all by the morning.