BSG Battle Fic Compilation
Here's a compilation of the rest of my bsg_pornbattle fic.
To see all my stories for the battle (hosted on my LJ), go here.
Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar, Laura, fingers, alone, anger
"Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar," she growls as she slides a finger deep inside her pussy, all the way to the knuckle. She's on her makeshift bed on Colonial One, the small, insignificant space she's forced to call home, and she left motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar sitting in Bill's brig, smug and defiant as ever.
Gods, how she hates him. But she's wet when she returns from dragging his ass around Galactica, after screaming at him and hurling empty threats at him. She's wet after seeing his anger, confusion and defeat, but then, then, when he realized her hands were tied, that she couldn't toss him out a frakkin' airlock like she had threatened, he was smug again, that smirk, those dark eyes telling her what she already knew.
He was in control.
It made her so wet.
She slides another finger in, curling up and stroking herself inside, her legs splayed apart as far as they can go. She strokes slowly at first, and it feels good, so frakkin' good, but she's picturing Gaius's face for some reason, behind her tightly closed eyelids. Her fingers drag through her folds and circle her clit and she moans, her hips thrusting up to her hand. She starts to wonder what his tongue feels like, if it would be rough or smooth over her nipples, if he would lick or suck or nibble his way down to the wetness between her thighs.
Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar.
She's stroking her clit harder now, fingers working frantically, and she teases herself nearly too much before sliding those fingers back down and thrusting them hard inside again, one, two, three times, and she loses count and loses rhythm as she pictures his dark eyes looking up at her from the juncture of her thighs. His tongue, the tongue that spouts lies and falsity, is shoved so deeply inside her pussy that she can feel his teeth grinding against her flesh.
Her back arches when she thinks about it. It sends shockwaves through her body. She circles her fingers like his tongue would circle inside of her, lapping her up, all this wetness she had for him, that he made in her, because she hates him so frakkin' much she can't stand it.
Her hips are moving with her hand and she's moaning with her head tilted back, mouth open, tongue tracing her upper lip. Her free hand slides over her breast and plucks at a nipple, twisting it, thinking about his hand reaching up and torturing her that way, all the while licking at her clit, sucking at it voraciously. Her fingers find her clit and work harder, faster, and she starts to whimper, starts to thrust her hips in a rhythm.
She would grab his dark hair and pull it so hard that he'd wince. She'd want to pull it out by the fistfuls while he frakked her with his mouth, and he should frak her with his mouth, he deserves to frak her with his mouth, and she would make him frak her until his jaw ached and his tongue lagged. She would press his face so hard into her wetness that he couldn't breathe. He would moan and squirm and whimper. He would lap at her so hard she'd cry out in ecstasy, he'd be desperate to make her come so that she would release him to come up for air.
That thought and a few more strokes of her clit makes her come hard, and she's surprised when she calls out his name into the empty room. Her eyes snap open and she looks around as she pants, to see if anyone is there watching, listening.
"Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar," she breathes.
_______________________________________________________________
Journalistic Endeavor, Helo/ninamazing, you're all the woman I need
"So you're here to write an article about me?" Helo asked, his bulging tanned arm muscles distracting Nina from her work duties. His cloth fleet-issue undershirt was clinging to him in all the right places, and his pants were incredibly tight on his ass, and his hair was close-cropped and she could see the tendons of his neck strain while he lifted the dumbbells, flexing his biceps, in the Galactica Gym.
Nina was distracted.
"Yes," she said, and she tried to ignore the quivering she felt in her gut as she watched him lift his weights, his skin glistening with a sweaty sheen. He grit his teeth on the last few lifts and all Nina could think about was running her tongue over them.
"Why the frak would anyone want to read an article about me?" he said, setting down the weights and walking over to her. It was then she realized how truly tall he was--he towered over her, and she looked up into his eyes and then looked down at his chest, and then down to his belt, and then lower, and if she focused really hard she swore she could an outline of his--
"Well," she said slowly, staring at the outline.
"Hey," he said. "Eyes are up here."
She blushed. She looked up into his eyes and he was standing only inches from her.
"Well, people seem to be...very interested in the fact that you've fathered the first successful Cylon/human hybrid," she stuttered, her lips dry. She flicked her tongue out over them and he tilted his head, gazing into her eyes.
"Yeah," he said. "Big frakkin' deal. You know, we don't want any extra publicity. We want Hera to have a normal life as she grows up."
"I understand," Nina said, secretly hoping that he'd reconsider so she could spend more time with this sexy, sexy man.
"Come with me," Helo said, walking out of the gym. Nina followed obediently, more turned on about being ordered around than she was by just looking at this magnificent specimen.
Helo walked into the shower room and she hesitated. He looked back over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Nobody's here. Come talk to me while I wash up."
Nina silently thanked all the Lords of Kobol individually for this opportunity to pursue her journalistic excellence.
She followed him in and he quickly shed his undershirt and tossed it into a basket. Yes, Galactica has laundry baskets. Nina nearly gasped at Helo's finely defined chest and abs. Then he shed his pants and tossed them in the basket. If she couldn't see an outline of that then, she certainly could now. She tried not to pant.
"All right," he said. "Now tell me why you're really here."
"Excuse me?" Nina asked.
Helo walked up to her and she backed up against the tiled wall. He ground his hard body into hers and she gasped, dropping all of her journalistic tools, such as her little electronic scribble book and her stylus and her bag of things.
"You're here to frak me," Helo said. "That's fine. I want to frak you too."
"Oh, Gods," Nina said as Helo stripped off her shirt. "I mean, that certainly wasn't my intention, but now that you mention it, it's not a horribly bad idea, and..."
Helo kissed her hard to shut her up. Her inner monologue was narrating the entire porny scenario. It was like all of her dreams and fantasies and all the porny fanfic she'd ever written combined. Helo pushed up her skirt and yanked down his boxers and pressed their naked bodies together. The wall was cold against her back but she really didn't frakkin' care.
"Helo, what about Athena?" she murmured between frantic, passionate, mindblowing kisses.
"You're all the woman I need," Helo said, dropping to his knees.
"Motherfrakkin' right," Nina said, the back of her head hitting the tile.
_______________________________________________________________
Helo/Hot Dog, my two dads
Helo slipped Hot Dog into his mouth, moaning as he felt the hot length slide over his tongue. It was nothing like he'd ever felt, nothing like he'd ever tasted, and suddenly he knew he wanted nothing more than to feel the hot juices running down his throat.
He moved his lips gently over the skin, then chewed it up and ate it in one big swallow.
"Athena, you make the best hot dogs, even if they're algae dogs," he said, licking the mustard from his lips.
"That's right, baby," she said. "I learned how to cook them from my two dads."
_______________________________________________________________
Cylon Cyclops, Saul/Bill, I liked you with two eyes
"I liked you with two eyes," Bill Adama spat drunkenly at his best friend Saul Tigh.
"You frakkin' motherfrakker," Saul growled, throwing his empty clear glass bottle at a nearby wall. "I frakkin' lost my frakkin' eye in a frakkin' Cylon prison tryin' to fight the fight against those frakkin' motherfrakkin' Cylons, so shut yer frakkin' mouth about my frakkin' eye or I'll kick yer frakkin' ass from here to the CIC!"
"Ohhhhhhhhh shut your frakkin' mouth," Bill yelled, forcefully chugging the rest of his tumbler of Galactica moonshine. "Shut that frakkin' mouth of yours or I'll show you what you can do with it."
"What the frak are you talkin' about, you frakker," Saul shouted, his one eye nearly bulging out of his head.
"Take that dirty mouth and suck my frakkin' cock, is what you can do, if you don't shut the frak up with your frakkin' whining about frakkin' New Caprica already," Bill growled, grabbing a model ship and crumpling it up and throwing it across the room.
"Frrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaackkkk yoooooooooooou," Saul grumbled angrily. He walked up to Bill and dropped to his knees. "Frak you, you frakker. I'll show you what New Caprica was like, I had to kill my own wife, you disrespecting motherfrakker."
"She was a whore," Bill yelled, undoing his belt buckle.
"Drop yer frakkin' pants, Bill Adama," Saul growled.
Bill dropped his pants and Saul saw he was already rock hard. "You frakker," he growled, taking Bill's cock in his hands. Bill growled, as usual. "No wonder Laura won't frak ya, your cock's motherfrakkin' pitiful."
"Suck it, you frakkin' Cyclops," Bill slurred.
"Ohhhhhhh, I'll suck it, all right," Saul declared, looking up at Bill with his incredibly emotional eye. "I'll frakkin' suck you dry."
It was then that Bill Adama shed a single tear at the overwhelming bond he felt with his best friend of many years, the friend who would suck him off no matter what, even if Bill teased him relentlessly about having only one eye and being a frakkin' drunkard all the frakkin' time.
He was still his XO.
It was then that Saul Tigh shed a single tear from his single eye at the overwhelming feeling of love he had for his best friend of many years, the friend who would let him suck him off even though he wasn't really gay, but Laura wouldn't put out yet, so he was just kinda needy for it, and Saul was more gay than Bill so he was actually happy for the chance to frakkin' suck Bill off.
He was still his Admiral.
"I frakkin' love you," Saul wept.
"I frakkin' love you," Bill wept. "Now suck it, Saul."
"It would be my honor, Admiral," Saul stated with a sniffle.
To see all my stories for the battle (hosted on my LJ), go here.
Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar, Laura, fingers, alone, anger
"Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar," she growls as she slides a finger deep inside her pussy, all the way to the knuckle. She's on her makeshift bed on Colonial One, the small, insignificant space she's forced to call home, and she left motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar sitting in Bill's brig, smug and defiant as ever.
Gods, how she hates him. But she's wet when she returns from dragging his ass around Galactica, after screaming at him and hurling empty threats at him. She's wet after seeing his anger, confusion and defeat, but then, then, when he realized her hands were tied, that she couldn't toss him out a frakkin' airlock like she had threatened, he was smug again, that smirk, those dark eyes telling her what she already knew.
He was in control.
It made her so wet.
She slides another finger in, curling up and stroking herself inside, her legs splayed apart as far as they can go. She strokes slowly at first, and it feels good, so frakkin' good, but she's picturing Gaius's face for some reason, behind her tightly closed eyelids. Her fingers drag through her folds and circle her clit and she moans, her hips thrusting up to her hand. She starts to wonder what his tongue feels like, if it would be rough or smooth over her nipples, if he would lick or suck or nibble his way down to the wetness between her thighs.
Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar.
She's stroking her clit harder now, fingers working frantically, and she teases herself nearly too much before sliding those fingers back down and thrusting them hard inside again, one, two, three times, and she loses count and loses rhythm as she pictures his dark eyes looking up at her from the juncture of her thighs. His tongue, the tongue that spouts lies and falsity, is shoved so deeply inside her pussy that she can feel his teeth grinding against her flesh.
Her back arches when she thinks about it. It sends shockwaves through her body. She circles her fingers like his tongue would circle inside of her, lapping her up, all this wetness she had for him, that he made in her, because she hates him so frakkin' much she can't stand it.
Her hips are moving with her hand and she's moaning with her head tilted back, mouth open, tongue tracing her upper lip. Her free hand slides over her breast and plucks at a nipple, twisting it, thinking about his hand reaching up and torturing her that way, all the while licking at her clit, sucking at it voraciously. Her fingers find her clit and work harder, faster, and she starts to whimper, starts to thrust her hips in a rhythm.
She would grab his dark hair and pull it so hard that he'd wince. She'd want to pull it out by the fistfuls while he frakked her with his mouth, and he should frak her with his mouth, he deserves to frak her with his mouth, and she would make him frak her until his jaw ached and his tongue lagged. She would press his face so hard into her wetness that he couldn't breathe. He would moan and squirm and whimper. He would lap at her so hard she'd cry out in ecstasy, he'd be desperate to make her come so that she would release him to come up for air.
That thought and a few more strokes of her clit makes her come hard, and she's surprised when she calls out his name into the empty room. Her eyes snap open and she looks around as she pants, to see if anyone is there watching, listening.
"Motherfrakkin' Gaius Baltar," she breathes.
_______________________________________________________________
Journalistic Endeavor, Helo/ninamazing, you're all the woman I need
"So you're here to write an article about me?" Helo asked, his bulging tanned arm muscles distracting Nina from her work duties. His cloth fleet-issue undershirt was clinging to him in all the right places, and his pants were incredibly tight on his ass, and his hair was close-cropped and she could see the tendons of his neck strain while he lifted the dumbbells, flexing his biceps, in the Galactica Gym.
Nina was distracted.
"Yes," she said, and she tried to ignore the quivering she felt in her gut as she watched him lift his weights, his skin glistening with a sweaty sheen. He grit his teeth on the last few lifts and all Nina could think about was running her tongue over them.
"Why the frak would anyone want to read an article about me?" he said, setting down the weights and walking over to her. It was then she realized how truly tall he was--he towered over her, and she looked up into his eyes and then looked down at his chest, and then down to his belt, and then lower, and if she focused really hard she swore she could an outline of his--
"Well," she said slowly, staring at the outline.
"Hey," he said. "Eyes are up here."
She blushed. She looked up into his eyes and he was standing only inches from her.
"Well, people seem to be...very interested in the fact that you've fathered the first successful Cylon/human hybrid," she stuttered, her lips dry. She flicked her tongue out over them and he tilted his head, gazing into her eyes.
"Yeah," he said. "Big frakkin' deal. You know, we don't want any extra publicity. We want Hera to have a normal life as she grows up."
"I understand," Nina said, secretly hoping that he'd reconsider so she could spend more time with this sexy, sexy man.
"Come with me," Helo said, walking out of the gym. Nina followed obediently, more turned on about being ordered around than she was by just looking at this magnificent specimen.
Helo walked into the shower room and she hesitated. He looked back over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Nobody's here. Come talk to me while I wash up."
Nina silently thanked all the Lords of Kobol individually for this opportunity to pursue her journalistic excellence.
She followed him in and he quickly shed his undershirt and tossed it into a basket. Yes, Galactica has laundry baskets. Nina nearly gasped at Helo's finely defined chest and abs. Then he shed his pants and tossed them in the basket. If she couldn't see an outline of that then, she certainly could now. She tried not to pant.
"All right," he said. "Now tell me why you're really here."
"Excuse me?" Nina asked.
Helo walked up to her and she backed up against the tiled wall. He ground his hard body into hers and she gasped, dropping all of her journalistic tools, such as her little electronic scribble book and her stylus and her bag of things.
"You're here to frak me," Helo said. "That's fine. I want to frak you too."
"Oh, Gods," Nina said as Helo stripped off her shirt. "I mean, that certainly wasn't my intention, but now that you mention it, it's not a horribly bad idea, and..."
Helo kissed her hard to shut her up. Her inner monologue was narrating the entire porny scenario. It was like all of her dreams and fantasies and all the porny fanfic she'd ever written combined. Helo pushed up her skirt and yanked down his boxers and pressed their naked bodies together. The wall was cold against her back but she really didn't frakkin' care.
"Helo, what about Athena?" she murmured between frantic, passionate, mindblowing kisses.
"You're all the woman I need," Helo said, dropping to his knees.
"Motherfrakkin' right," Nina said, the back of her head hitting the tile.
_______________________________________________________________
Helo/Hot Dog, my two dads
Helo slipped Hot Dog into his mouth, moaning as he felt the hot length slide over his tongue. It was nothing like he'd ever felt, nothing like he'd ever tasted, and suddenly he knew he wanted nothing more than to feel the hot juices running down his throat.
He moved his lips gently over the skin, then chewed it up and ate it in one big swallow.
"Athena, you make the best hot dogs, even if they're algae dogs," he said, licking the mustard from his lips.
"That's right, baby," she said. "I learned how to cook them from my two dads."
_______________________________________________________________
Cylon Cyclops, Saul/Bill, I liked you with two eyes
"I liked you with two eyes," Bill Adama spat drunkenly at his best friend Saul Tigh.
"You frakkin' motherfrakker," Saul growled, throwing his empty clear glass bottle at a nearby wall. "I frakkin' lost my frakkin' eye in a frakkin' Cylon prison tryin' to fight the fight against those frakkin' motherfrakkin' Cylons, so shut yer frakkin' mouth about my frakkin' eye or I'll kick yer frakkin' ass from here to the CIC!"
"Ohhhhhhhhh shut your frakkin' mouth," Bill yelled, forcefully chugging the rest of his tumbler of Galactica moonshine. "Shut that frakkin' mouth of yours or I'll show you what you can do with it."
"What the frak are you talkin' about, you frakker," Saul shouted, his one eye nearly bulging out of his head.
"Take that dirty mouth and suck my frakkin' cock, is what you can do, if you don't shut the frak up with your frakkin' whining about frakkin' New Caprica already," Bill growled, grabbing a model ship and crumpling it up and throwing it across the room.
"Frrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaackkkk yoooooooooooou," Saul grumbled angrily. He walked up to Bill and dropped to his knees. "Frak you, you frakker. I'll show you what New Caprica was like, I had to kill my own wife, you disrespecting motherfrakker."
"She was a whore," Bill yelled, undoing his belt buckle.
"Drop yer frakkin' pants, Bill Adama," Saul growled.
Bill dropped his pants and Saul saw he was already rock hard. "You frakker," he growled, taking Bill's cock in his hands. Bill growled, as usual. "No wonder Laura won't frak ya, your cock's motherfrakkin' pitiful."
"Suck it, you frakkin' Cyclops," Bill slurred.
"Ohhhhhhh, I'll suck it, all right," Saul declared, looking up at Bill with his incredibly emotional eye. "I'll frakkin' suck you dry."
It was then that Bill Adama shed a single tear at the overwhelming bond he felt with his best friend of many years, the friend who would suck him off no matter what, even if Bill teased him relentlessly about having only one eye and being a frakkin' drunkard all the frakkin' time.
He was still his XO.
It was then that Saul Tigh shed a single tear from his single eye at the overwhelming feeling of love he had for his best friend of many years, the friend who would let him suck him off even though he wasn't really gay, but Laura wouldn't put out yet, so he was just kinda needy for it, and Saul was more gay than Bill so he was actually happy for the chance to frakkin' suck Bill off.
He was still his Admiral.
"I frakkin' love you," Saul wept.
"I frakkin' love you," Bill wept. "Now suck it, Saul."
"It would be my honor, Admiral," Saul stated with a sniffle.