just_fck_me || 6.2 When did you lose your virginity and what was it like?
Beta'd by the beautiful, brilliant vixen of Wise Words, twicedisplaced.
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She'd been feeling ridiculous all night in a borrowed dress and a pair of heels that she planned on burning in effigy as soon as possible, but despite all that, Kara had been the life of the party. No surprise, really, as she'd spent most of the dance pretty hammered, and as soon as the stupid thing had ended, she and her escort retreated to his car for a top up. His name was Tom... (Moore? Martin? Maguire? Em-something?) Something. He had a normal last name, but Kara wasn't sure she could remember it given her state, and it didn't matter anyway. He was just a decent-looking friend of a friend, and she figured he'd make her asshole of an ex think twice. Plus, he was a senior who had a convertible (his dad's, but still).
"You still want to go to that party at that girl's parents'?" he asked, lighting a cigarette. Surprisingly, instead of taking a protracted drag, he passed it to her and lit another for himself.
Kara accepted the unexpected gift, inhaling cool, unfamiliar menthol. The sensation on her throat was a big difference from the burn of the cigarettes she swiped from her mother - pleasant, even. She flicked an ash out the window and tossed Tom Something a grin. "Marcia's, yes. 'S on Semple." Gesturing in the complete opposite direction with her cigarette, she asked, "Think you can find it?"
Tom nodded and put the car in gear. Kara guessed they'd both had too much to drink for the operation of a motor vehicle to be explicitly legal, but neither were bad enough off to actually wreck; still, she closed her eyes and navigated the empty, moonlit blocks by feel. There wasn't even a slight pull to the left or right, and by the time they pulled up in front of the already-rocking house party, Kara was feeling quite at ease.
Inside, they were greeted by a raucous crowd, most of whom Kara knew. Drinks were pressed into their hands, and as they passed from room to room, they drifted into and out of conversations that had been started many hours earlier. Kara participated, but absently - her entire being was focused on the large, sure hand pressed at the small of her back. Tom was a baseball player (or at least, she thought he mentioned something about rounding third earlier), and she could feel it in him. Between that, the scent of his slightly-pungent cologne, and the press of his eyes on her lips and the neckline of her dress, she felt the trepidations of a crush beginning to form. It was ridiculous and girly and bordering on disgusting, but it was fact.
Finally, Kara chose a seat beside the nearest of her closest friends. Conversation ebbed and flowed around three rounds of shooter (which Kara won) and attendance gradually dwindled. Lights were dimmed or extinguished, and she found herself nearly alone in the family room of Marcia Gaven's parents' house with some guy's name whose last name she could not remember. (Roan? Reid? Ryan? Something beginning with R?) Still, between the booze and the adrenaline roller coaster she'd been riding since her friend, Alison, had finished pinning her hair up at three o'clock, she didn't feel entirely out of place. And when Tom slid his arm around her bare shoulder, she felt quite in place.
"You had fun tonight?" The phrasing of the question made her grin - he appeared genuinely interested (or at least very good at faking it).
She nodded, taking the opportunity to press herself into the hollow left by his body. Tom had removed his jacket at some point and rolled up the sleeves, and after a whole evening's wear, the once-crisp fabric had softened. Kara turned her cheek and pressed her face against the curve of his shoulder, reveling in his warmth. Looking up at him, she admired him from this new angle - he was a regular looking guy, average and blandly handsome. Sometimes throughout the evening, he'd look at her so seriously - just a little crease between his eyebrows and a downturn at the corners of his mouth - and it thrilled her. He was looking that way at the moment, just kind of scowling thoughtfully at her as though trying to decipher something.
"You?"
He nodded and she laid her hand on his stomach. She wasn't exactly entirely inexpert, but heretofore, she'd never really wanted before. Even at the subtle contact of her fingertips to the button placket of his shirt felt illicit and thrilling, and she felt an answering tingle somewhere beneath and behind her navel. Tom cleared his throat.
"You looked pretty. Beautiful. I mean, you still look..." he trailed off, and Kara couldn't stop herself from laughing. It wasn't the first time he'd said she looked nice, but she vastly preferred his slightly breathless delivery. It was nice to have the upper-hand - kind of powerful, she thought. Kara grinned up at him. It was probably the liquor talking, but he looked suddenly more handsome to her.
As a reward, she leaned in and kissed him. It was tentative, but anything but sweet, and by the time Kara felt his fingers tangling in her curls, unpinning them so they tumbled down her back, she opened her mouth and groaned against his lips. Things escalated from there rather rapidly, and before she knew it, she was seated in his lap and halfway out of her dress. Tom kissed her jaw and her throat, and she tipped her head back to allow him further access. She rocked against him willfully, pressing herself closer. At his answering whimper, she smiled, thrilling on a wild sensation of power mixed with limpid desire.
His hand was warm on her side, sliding up and over a thin layer of silk to cover her breast. She arched and pressed against him, her body responding of its own volition. Never before had she felt so recklessly out of control all the while remaining coherent - Kara was sure she could used to this. Sliding her hand between them, she coaxed a surprised gasp from Tom, and earned her own reward when he touched the side of her neck and looked at her with his serious eyes. She about melted when he pulled her close and kissed her relentlessly, and when he eased her down to the soft chenille sofa beneath them, it was Kara's turn to look starry-eyed.
He continued kissing a path down her along the column of her throat and along the ridge of her collarbone. She moved insistently beneath him, but he tarried at the edge of her dress for an indecently long moment. When he finally tugged the fabric aside, Kara cried out softly, covering her mouth to stifle anything further. Tom glanced up at her, and his gaze had gone from serious to teasing in a wink. She decided she liked that expression just as well.
When at last he touched her breast with his tongue, Kara couldn't keep quiet any longer. She tangled her legs with his and tilted her hips against him. Kara parted her thighs when he reached between them, and her panties become a distant memory.
"Do you..." he whispered softly against her ear.
Kara nodded and twisted closer, fisting his now-opened shirt in her hand. Tom kissed her then, and it was soft. Tension shifted from her chest to a point deep within her, and it was a welcome sensation. Like the menthol cigarette earlier, this was pleasant and challenging; it eluded her somewhat and she struggled toward it. In the process, she wrapped her legs around Tom's now-bare hips, urging him closer. She was surprised by how nervous she felt, how many questions seemed to fill her mind, how many doubts. As soon as she felt him move against her, though, her mind blanked. She was entirely consumed by sensation, a mix of fierce pleasure and immediate pain. She felt flush and alive and awake all at the same time as an extreme awareness possessed her.
Together, they moved cautiously, each testing the angle between them. Falling into a tempo came with more ease than Kara had ever imagined, and soon the pain ebbed away along with the caution. All at once, she felt his hands everywhere on her exposed skin and exploring what was still covered by her dress, and she gasped as they pressed closer and rocked together harder against one another. Suddenly, she felt him tense against her and he spoke her name with an unusual reverence and clarity before finding her mouth and kissing her roughly.
They lay tangled and panting for a long time, and Kara still felt the his pulse intimately influencing her own until at last they synced up and evened out. They withdrew from one another only long enough to rearrange clothing in some manner, and before Kara even had time to feel a chill, he was pressed against her again, all warmth and long, lean lines into which she sank willingly. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her neck, but neither spoke. There'd be time later, Kara thought.
It didn't take long for Kara to crash from the combination of consummated lust and physical exhaustion, and she slept quickly and completely, her dreams peaceful and sweet for the first time in years.
Muse: Kara Thrace
Rating: R
Prompt: [Battlestar Galactica] | When did you lose your virginity and what was it like?
'Verse: Canon
Word Count: ~1500
-
She'd been feeling ridiculous all night in a borrowed dress and a pair of heels that she planned on burning in effigy as soon as possible, but despite all that, Kara had been the life of the party. No surprise, really, as she'd spent most of the dance pretty hammered, and as soon as the stupid thing had ended, she and her escort retreated to his car for a top up. His name was Tom... (Moore? Martin? Maguire? Em-something?) Something. He had a normal last name, but Kara wasn't sure she could remember it given her state, and it didn't matter anyway. He was just a decent-looking friend of a friend, and she figured he'd make her asshole of an ex think twice. Plus, he was a senior who had a convertible (his dad's, but still).
"You still want to go to that party at that girl's parents'?" he asked, lighting a cigarette. Surprisingly, instead of taking a protracted drag, he passed it to her and lit another for himself.
Kara accepted the unexpected gift, inhaling cool, unfamiliar menthol. The sensation on her throat was a big difference from the burn of the cigarettes she swiped from her mother - pleasant, even. She flicked an ash out the window and tossed Tom Something a grin. "Marcia's, yes. 'S on Semple." Gesturing in the complete opposite direction with her cigarette, she asked, "Think you can find it?"
Tom nodded and put the car in gear. Kara guessed they'd both had too much to drink for the operation of a motor vehicle to be explicitly legal, but neither were bad enough off to actually wreck; still, she closed her eyes and navigated the empty, moonlit blocks by feel. There wasn't even a slight pull to the left or right, and by the time they pulled up in front of the already-rocking house party, Kara was feeling quite at ease.
Inside, they were greeted by a raucous crowd, most of whom Kara knew. Drinks were pressed into their hands, and as they passed from room to room, they drifted into and out of conversations that had been started many hours earlier. Kara participated, but absently - her entire being was focused on the large, sure hand pressed at the small of her back. Tom was a baseball player (or at least, she thought he mentioned something about rounding third earlier), and she could feel it in him. Between that, the scent of his slightly-pungent cologne, and the press of his eyes on her lips and the neckline of her dress, she felt the trepidations of a crush beginning to form. It was ridiculous and girly and bordering on disgusting, but it was fact.
Finally, Kara chose a seat beside the nearest of her closest friends. Conversation ebbed and flowed around three rounds of shooter (which Kara won) and attendance gradually dwindled. Lights were dimmed or extinguished, and she found herself nearly alone in the family room of Marcia Gaven's parents' house with some guy's name whose last name she could not remember. (Roan? Reid? Ryan? Something beginning with R?) Still, between the booze and the adrenaline roller coaster she'd been riding since her friend, Alison, had finished pinning her hair up at three o'clock, she didn't feel entirely out of place. And when Tom slid his arm around her bare shoulder, she felt quite in place.
"You had fun tonight?" The phrasing of the question made her grin - he appeared genuinely interested (or at least very good at faking it).
She nodded, taking the opportunity to press herself into the hollow left by his body. Tom had removed his jacket at some point and rolled up the sleeves, and after a whole evening's wear, the once-crisp fabric had softened. Kara turned her cheek and pressed her face against the curve of his shoulder, reveling in his warmth. Looking up at him, she admired him from this new angle - he was a regular looking guy, average and blandly handsome. Sometimes throughout the evening, he'd look at her so seriously - just a little crease between his eyebrows and a downturn at the corners of his mouth - and it thrilled her. He was looking that way at the moment, just kind of scowling thoughtfully at her as though trying to decipher something.
"You?"
He nodded and she laid her hand on his stomach. She wasn't exactly entirely inexpert, but heretofore, she'd never really wanted before. Even at the subtle contact of her fingertips to the button placket of his shirt felt illicit and thrilling, and she felt an answering tingle somewhere beneath and behind her navel. Tom cleared his throat.
"You looked pretty. Beautiful. I mean, you still look..." he trailed off, and Kara couldn't stop herself from laughing. It wasn't the first time he'd said she looked nice, but she vastly preferred his slightly breathless delivery. It was nice to have the upper-hand - kind of powerful, she thought. Kara grinned up at him. It was probably the liquor talking, but he looked suddenly more handsome to her.
As a reward, she leaned in and kissed him. It was tentative, but anything but sweet, and by the time Kara felt his fingers tangling in her curls, unpinning them so they tumbled down her back, she opened her mouth and groaned against his lips. Things escalated from there rather rapidly, and before she knew it, she was seated in his lap and halfway out of her dress. Tom kissed her jaw and her throat, and she tipped her head back to allow him further access. She rocked against him willfully, pressing herself closer. At his answering whimper, she smiled, thrilling on a wild sensation of power mixed with limpid desire.
His hand was warm on her side, sliding up and over a thin layer of silk to cover her breast. She arched and pressed against him, her body responding of its own volition. Never before had she felt so recklessly out of control all the while remaining coherent - Kara was sure she could used to this. Sliding her hand between them, she coaxed a surprised gasp from Tom, and earned her own reward when he touched the side of her neck and looked at her with his serious eyes. She about melted when he pulled her close and kissed her relentlessly, and when he eased her down to the soft chenille sofa beneath them, it was Kara's turn to look starry-eyed.
He continued kissing a path down her along the column of her throat and along the ridge of her collarbone. She moved insistently beneath him, but he tarried at the edge of her dress for an indecently long moment. When he finally tugged the fabric aside, Kara cried out softly, covering her mouth to stifle anything further. Tom glanced up at her, and his gaze had gone from serious to teasing in a wink. She decided she liked that expression just as well.
When at last he touched her breast with his tongue, Kara couldn't keep quiet any longer. She tangled her legs with his and tilted her hips against him. Kara parted her thighs when he reached between them, and her panties become a distant memory.
"Do you..." he whispered softly against her ear.
Kara nodded and twisted closer, fisting his now-opened shirt in her hand. Tom kissed her then, and it was soft. Tension shifted from her chest to a point deep within her, and it was a welcome sensation. Like the menthol cigarette earlier, this was pleasant and challenging; it eluded her somewhat and she struggled toward it. In the process, she wrapped her legs around Tom's now-bare hips, urging him closer. She was surprised by how nervous she felt, how many questions seemed to fill her mind, how many doubts. As soon as she felt him move against her, though, her mind blanked. She was entirely consumed by sensation, a mix of fierce pleasure and immediate pain. She felt flush and alive and awake all at the same time as an extreme awareness possessed her.
Together, they moved cautiously, each testing the angle between them. Falling into a tempo came with more ease than Kara had ever imagined, and soon the pain ebbed away along with the caution. All at once, she felt his hands everywhere on her exposed skin and exploring what was still covered by her dress, and she gasped as they pressed closer and rocked together harder against one another. Suddenly, she felt him tense against her and he spoke her name with an unusual reverence and clarity before finding her mouth and kissing her roughly.
They lay tangled and panting for a long time, and Kara still felt the his pulse intimately influencing her own until at last they synced up and evened out. They withdrew from one another only long enough to rearrange clothing in some manner, and before Kara even had time to feel a chill, he was pressed against her again, all warmth and long, lean lines into which she sank willingly. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her neck, but neither spoke. There'd be time later, Kara thought.
It didn't take long for Kara to crash from the combination of consummated lust and physical exhaustion, and she slept quickly and completely, her dreams peaceful and sweet for the first time in years.
Muse: Kara Thrace
Rating: R
Prompt: [Battlestar Galactica] | When did you lose your virginity and what was it like?
'Verse: Canon
Word Count: ~1500