First season archive
I have lots to choose from my older fics. (I have a thing for first season secksy times.) But they're all pretty bad. *sigh* So, I picked one that was at least funny, and therefore, we won't take too seriously. It was originally written for a challenge where you had to depict a sexual act between your characters while they kept their clothes on. It was set during Six Degrees.
Title: It's Just theChamalla
Author: Aussie
Rated: MA
Laura Roslin walked into the Wardroom and glanced around at its other inhabitants. Colonel Tigh, Lieutenant Gaeta and, of course, Commander Adama.
Her eyes settled on the Commander as they always had a tendency to do in meetings. Memories of her dreams from the night before flooded her brain. A highly erotic dream starring herself and a far more amiable Commander. She shivered at the recollection.
“Madam President,” his voice drawled out her name in husky tones that made her insides spasm.
“Commander,” she said in her most prim voice. It certainly wouldn’t do to let him see the attraction she felt for him.
“If you would like to sit down, we’ll get started,” he said.
“Of course,” she said.
Once seated next to him, she glanced around again, noting that there were fewer desks in the room than usual. Usually the table arrangements were such that she had to practically yell out if there were more than three of them in the room, but today, for some reason, the meeting’s attendees were squashed around only two desks. What now, she wondered, a furniture shortage? The thought made her let out a giggle.
“Madam President?” Adama raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” she said, ignoring the need to give him any explanation for her wandering thoughts. “Lieutenant Gaeta, how are you going with the photo of Doctor Baltar?” she changed the subject by asking.
“The alleged photo of Doctor Baltar,” the young man corrected her. “It should be ready in a few hours time.”
Colonel Tigh went on to present a contingency action plan if the Doctor should prove to be the man in the photo on Ms Godfrey’s disc. She looked up at the Colonel. The XO now sported a black eye patch with a skull and cross bones pattern.
She moaned in frustration. She was having hallucinations again.
“Madam President?” she heard the Commander’s voice using a questioning tone again.
She turned to see his blue eyes probing at hers through the glass of her spectacles.
“Are you still unwell?” he asked.
“Unwell?” she repeated.
“The flu,” he said as if talking to a particularly slow child. “The reason you collapsed yesterday.”
She relaxed visibly. He still didn’t know the real reason for her collapse.
“Yes, I’m still feeling slightly fuzzy,” she said. “Plus I’m a bit tired,” she added.
“Would you like to skip the meeting,” he said.
“No, no, that’s okay.” She tried to assure him by giving him a bright smile in an attempt to hide any traces of sickness that could be shadowing her features.
“Next on the agenda,” she said, looking down at the paper in front of her. It was splattered in blood.
She closed her eyes and looked back as Lieutenant Gaeta was writing some calculations on the white board. He walked back to the tables with the aid of a crutch under his arm. A Chamalla peg leg pirate, she assumed.
She looked down and pulled at her clothes. Her clothes that had suddenly gone from a too short skirt and matching jacket with a pristine white blouse underneath to a stretched oversized grey woollen jumper. The misshapen top looked like something out of a charity bin.
The Commander’s voice rumbled next to her as he conveyed some point. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to look at him with her new Chamalla eyes. Would he be the pirate captain, she wondered, with a parrot on his shoulder? She sighed and turned to him, trying to keep the mirth out of her eyes. She was faintly disappointed to see he wasn’t any type of pirate. Instead he was just himself, except for one startling difference.
She felt his leg rub against hers under the desk. The warmth of his body instantly heated her frigid bones. She’d been constantly cold over the last few weeks. Just another side effect of her cocktail of drugs.
She looked up and gave him a smile that she hoped conveyed that she knew he hadn’t touched her deliberately and that she had no hard feelings.
“Let’s move on,” he said in an authoritative voice.
She looked down at the table where blood was spurting from the end of the pen that sat on her agenda. She closed her eyes to block out the vision. She reopened her eyes. The blood was still there, only now it was oozing over the desk and dripping down to the floor. She involuntarily found herself moving closer to the Commander, obviously seeking, on some level, protection.
She relaxed somewhat when she felt his palm rub the inside of her thigh. That was better, she thought, if she was going to hallucinate at least it could be something pleasant.
His fingers were softer than she had imagined last night. Last night they had pumped in and out of her with a roughness bordering on brutality. Now though, she was imagining them gliding over the inside of her thigh with an unexpected gentleness.
She looked up at Colonel Tigh. The XO still only had one eye but now some sort of woollen cap was perched on the Colonel’s head. She quickly looked away.
Adama's fingers were circling the edge of her panties. She felt a warm rush of fluid pool in between her legs.
The sensation changed slightly; he was now skimming all around the sensitive skin at the top of her legs with his knuckles. She couldn’t prevent the hum that floated from her mouth when finally he probed gently at her pussy. The silky material of her panties acting as a barrier and preventing any real penetration.
“Madam President, are you sure you’re okay?” Colonel Tigh asked.
“Yes, yes,” she managed to murmur back in a low and too sexy voice.
Adama chuckled beside her.
Lieutenant Gaeta subjected them to a new round of facts and figures that her wayward brain chose to ignore.
Instead it decided to concentrate on the hand that once again was playing with her panties. Then, his hand managed to bury beneath the material, However, it was content to just cup her mound, only occasionally pushing down to exert a slight pressure with his wrist.
She glanced over at him. He still had that thing on his face.
One finger gently pushed into her slit and wriggled around comfortably amongst the moisture that had built there in the last few minutes. After a while of slow exploration the finger pushed hard into her before sliding out completely, teasing her before pushing back inside her once more. She tensed her muscles at each stroke.
She moaned as quietly as she dared and grabbed at a glass of water that someone had arranged on the tables prior to the meeting.
“Madam President,” Commander Adama announced. “I think we should have a break. We’ll meet back here in,” he checked his watch, “say, twenty minutes.”
Colonel Tigh and Lieutenant Gaeta nodded in agreement before standing and leaving the room.
“Are you okay?” Adama asked once they'd left.
“Yes, yes,” she assured him.
He reached out and felt her forehead. “I think you might have a fever,” he told her.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “I might just go to the bathroom.”
She leant over the Wardroom’s small facilities and splashed some water over her face. She looked up into the mirror. She was still wearing the tatty grey jumper, she noted, and now her hair was completely gone. She was bald.
She heard a tapping on the door. “Madam President?”
She shifted over to open the door.
“I brought you a face cloth,” he told her as he came into the small room. He turned on the tap and fully wet the cloth before squeezing it out.
He turned and ran the face cloth over her forehead. He then, ever so slowly, ran it down her neck and around the swell of her breasts.
“You’re so hot,” he whispered in his sexy husky voice.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Especially here,” he murmured, running the cloth up under her skirt and in between her legs.
She whimpered.
“So hot,” he repeated before he dropped to his knees and licked at the material of her panties. She whimpered again as his fingers hooked on the ends of her pants and slid them down her legs to her ankles. He immediately plunged his tongue back into her now fully exposed folds.
She reached down and grabbed at his gorgeous dark hair, running her fingers through its thickness. Her hands slid down to stroke at his powerful shoulders, letting her nails rake over his upper arms. His mouth moulded over her heat, swallowing and eating her out greedily.
He licked eagerly at her wetness and she bucked when his clever tongue found and swirled over the nub of her clit. She felt more moisture rush to her core as he suckled it into his mouth.
“Gods, I’m going to come,” she groaned as he plunged deep into her again and again with his tongue.
“You taste good,” he rumbled beneath her.
She hummed as a series of enjoyable sensations flooded her body. Her head fell back as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her causing her to cry out.
He chuckled and continued to lick her seeping juices up before he whipped her panties back up into place and stood back up to hand her the wash cloth.
She stood, flushed and sated, her mouth agape, and totally incapable of any coherent conversation.
He leant over and kissed her quickly on the lips. She tasted a faint trace of herself on his lips.
“Until later,” he promised before leaving her in the bathroom.
*
Ten minutes later she sat back at the table.
She looked over at Colonel Tigh who now glared back at her with two eyes.
Lieutenant Gaeta moved swiftly around the room on two good legs.
She looked over the Commander. She was relieved to see his face was handsomely cleanly shaved.
As the Commander announced the next subject on the agenda, she looked down to see the ugly jumper was gone.
She sighed with relief. The hallucinations were obviously over. She could go back to her duties as President.
That was when she felt a hand rub over her thigh.
Title: It's Just theChamalla
Author: Aussie
Rated: MA
Laura Roslin walked into the Wardroom and glanced around at its other inhabitants. Colonel Tigh, Lieutenant Gaeta and, of course, Commander Adama.
Her eyes settled on the Commander as they always had a tendency to do in meetings. Memories of her dreams from the night before flooded her brain. A highly erotic dream starring herself and a far more amiable Commander. She shivered at the recollection.
“Madam President,” his voice drawled out her name in husky tones that made her insides spasm.
“Commander,” she said in her most prim voice. It certainly wouldn’t do to let him see the attraction she felt for him.
“If you would like to sit down, we’ll get started,” he said.
“Of course,” she said.
Once seated next to him, she glanced around again, noting that there were fewer desks in the room than usual. Usually the table arrangements were such that she had to practically yell out if there were more than three of them in the room, but today, for some reason, the meeting’s attendees were squashed around only two desks. What now, she wondered, a furniture shortage? The thought made her let out a giggle.
“Madam President?” Adama raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” she said, ignoring the need to give him any explanation for her wandering thoughts. “Lieutenant Gaeta, how are you going with the photo of Doctor Baltar?” she changed the subject by asking.
“The alleged photo of Doctor Baltar,” the young man corrected her. “It should be ready in a few hours time.”
Colonel Tigh went on to present a contingency action plan if the Doctor should prove to be the man in the photo on Ms Godfrey’s disc. She looked up at the Colonel. The XO now sported a black eye patch with a skull and cross bones pattern.
She moaned in frustration. She was having hallucinations again.
“Madam President?” she heard the Commander’s voice using a questioning tone again.
She turned to see his blue eyes probing at hers through the glass of her spectacles.
“Are you still unwell?” he asked.
“Unwell?” she repeated.
“The flu,” he said as if talking to a particularly slow child. “The reason you collapsed yesterday.”
She relaxed visibly. He still didn’t know the real reason for her collapse.
“Yes, I’m still feeling slightly fuzzy,” she said. “Plus I’m a bit tired,” she added.
“Would you like to skip the meeting,” he said.
“No, no, that’s okay.” She tried to assure him by giving him a bright smile in an attempt to hide any traces of sickness that could be shadowing her features.
“Next on the agenda,” she said, looking down at the paper in front of her. It was splattered in blood.
She closed her eyes and looked back as Lieutenant Gaeta was writing some calculations on the white board. He walked back to the tables with the aid of a crutch under his arm. A Chamalla peg leg pirate, she assumed.
She looked down and pulled at her clothes. Her clothes that had suddenly gone from a too short skirt and matching jacket with a pristine white blouse underneath to a stretched oversized grey woollen jumper. The misshapen top looked like something out of a charity bin.
The Commander’s voice rumbled next to her as he conveyed some point. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to look at him with her new Chamalla eyes. Would he be the pirate captain, she wondered, with a parrot on his shoulder? She sighed and turned to him, trying to keep the mirth out of her eyes. She was faintly disappointed to see he wasn’t any type of pirate. Instead he was just himself, except for one startling difference.
She felt his leg rub against hers under the desk. The warmth of his body instantly heated her frigid bones. She’d been constantly cold over the last few weeks. Just another side effect of her cocktail of drugs.
She looked up and gave him a smile that she hoped conveyed that she knew he hadn’t touched her deliberately and that she had no hard feelings.
“Let’s move on,” he said in an authoritative voice.
She looked down at the table where blood was spurting from the end of the pen that sat on her agenda. She closed her eyes to block out the vision. She reopened her eyes. The blood was still there, only now it was oozing over the desk and dripping down to the floor. She involuntarily found herself moving closer to the Commander, obviously seeking, on some level, protection.
She relaxed somewhat when she felt his palm rub the inside of her thigh. That was better, she thought, if she was going to hallucinate at least it could be something pleasant.
His fingers were softer than she had imagined last night. Last night they had pumped in and out of her with a roughness bordering on brutality. Now though, she was imagining them gliding over the inside of her thigh with an unexpected gentleness.
She looked up at Colonel Tigh. The XO still only had one eye but now some sort of woollen cap was perched on the Colonel’s head. She quickly looked away.
Adama's fingers were circling the edge of her panties. She felt a warm rush of fluid pool in between her legs.
The sensation changed slightly; he was now skimming all around the sensitive skin at the top of her legs with his knuckles. She couldn’t prevent the hum that floated from her mouth when finally he probed gently at her pussy. The silky material of her panties acting as a barrier and preventing any real penetration.
“Madam President, are you sure you’re okay?” Colonel Tigh asked.
“Yes, yes,” she managed to murmur back in a low and too sexy voice.
Adama chuckled beside her.
Lieutenant Gaeta subjected them to a new round of facts and figures that her wayward brain chose to ignore.
Instead it decided to concentrate on the hand that once again was playing with her panties. Then, his hand managed to bury beneath the material, However, it was content to just cup her mound, only occasionally pushing down to exert a slight pressure with his wrist.
She glanced over at him. He still had that thing on his face.
One finger gently pushed into her slit and wriggled around comfortably amongst the moisture that had built there in the last few minutes. After a while of slow exploration the finger pushed hard into her before sliding out completely, teasing her before pushing back inside her once more. She tensed her muscles at each stroke.
She moaned as quietly as she dared and grabbed at a glass of water that someone had arranged on the tables prior to the meeting.
“Madam President,” Commander Adama announced. “I think we should have a break. We’ll meet back here in,” he checked his watch, “say, twenty minutes.”
Colonel Tigh and Lieutenant Gaeta nodded in agreement before standing and leaving the room.
“Are you okay?” Adama asked once they'd left.
“Yes, yes,” she assured him.
He reached out and felt her forehead. “I think you might have a fever,” he told her.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “I might just go to the bathroom.”
She leant over the Wardroom’s small facilities and splashed some water over her face. She looked up into the mirror. She was still wearing the tatty grey jumper, she noted, and now her hair was completely gone. She was bald.
She heard a tapping on the door. “Madam President?”
She shifted over to open the door.
“I brought you a face cloth,” he told her as he came into the small room. He turned on the tap and fully wet the cloth before squeezing it out.
He turned and ran the face cloth over her forehead. He then, ever so slowly, ran it down her neck and around the swell of her breasts.
“You’re so hot,” he whispered in his sexy husky voice.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Especially here,” he murmured, running the cloth up under her skirt and in between her legs.
She whimpered.
“So hot,” he repeated before he dropped to his knees and licked at the material of her panties. She whimpered again as his fingers hooked on the ends of her pants and slid them down her legs to her ankles. He immediately plunged his tongue back into her now fully exposed folds.
She reached down and grabbed at his gorgeous dark hair, running her fingers through its thickness. Her hands slid down to stroke at his powerful shoulders, letting her nails rake over his upper arms. His mouth moulded over her heat, swallowing and eating her out greedily.
He licked eagerly at her wetness and she bucked when his clever tongue found and swirled over the nub of her clit. She felt more moisture rush to her core as he suckled it into his mouth.
“Gods, I’m going to come,” she groaned as he plunged deep into her again and again with his tongue.
“You taste good,” he rumbled beneath her.
She hummed as a series of enjoyable sensations flooded her body. Her head fell back as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her causing her to cry out.
He chuckled and continued to lick her seeping juices up before he whipped her panties back up into place and stood back up to hand her the wash cloth.
She stood, flushed and sated, her mouth agape, and totally incapable of any coherent conversation.
He leant over and kissed her quickly on the lips. She tasted a faint trace of herself on his lips.
“Until later,” he promised before leaving her in the bathroom.
*
Ten minutes later she sat back at the table.
She looked over at Colonel Tigh who now glared back at her with two eyes.
Lieutenant Gaeta moved swiftly around the room on two good legs.
She looked over the Commander. She was relieved to see his face was handsomely cleanly shaved.
As the Commander announced the next subject on the agenda, she looked down to see the ugly jumper was gone.
She sighed with relief. The hallucinations were obviously over. She could go back to her duties as President.
That was when she felt a hand rub over her thigh.