Fic: In the End It Was All About... ~ Chapter 3
Title: In the End It Was All About... - The Six Men Who Wanted Laura Roslin And The One Who Got Her
Author: Ria
Pairing (this Chapter): Laura/Lee
Rating: NC-17
Spoiler: up to 1x03 - Bastille Day
Disclaimer: Characters are property of RDM and Universal Pictures.
Author's Note: Written for Sira01. Thank you for allowing me to share this. *hugs*
In the End It Was All About... - The Six Men Who Wanted Laura Roslin and the One Who Got Her
Chapter Three: Admiration
In the end, it was all about admiration.
They had told him to go ahead, that he wouldn’t disturb her; she was usually still awake and working at this hour. It was the slight difference between ‘usually’ and ‘always’ which made him nervous. He was torn between hoping to find her working and wishing to encounter her naked on top of the covers of her cot. A woman like she had to have a healthy need of the sexual kind. Never mind that orgasms were said to help release tension. Although he was aware that there was no chance in Hades she would ever choose him to join her, to help her gain some release, a man could dream, couldn’t he? He certainly wouldn’t mind a glimpse at what her suits concealed all day, a little something to fuel his fantasy and provide pleasant dreams. His good conscience nudged him hard between the ribs, reminding him that it was his commander in chief he was having improper thoughts about, but he shrugged it off, arguing that he only fantasised about her off-duty.
His heart beating faster than it should, he announced his presence outside the closed curtain which served as a sorry excuse for a door to provide at least a bit of privacy for the woman who carried the responsibility for the remainder of mankind on her delicate shoulders
“Yes?” her voice came from the other side, sounding strained and tired.
Pulling the curtain aside, he stepped into what could be called her private quarters and closed it again behind himself. Upon turning around, he found her sitting with crossed legs on the covers of her improvised bed. As far as he could tell from behind, her blouse hung open while she was trying to massage her shoulder. He cleared his throat, not sure what else to say or do. Instantly, her head shot around, clearly surprised to find him standing there. Either she had already forgotten about him knocking or hadn’t really registered it in the first place, and she had reacted instinctively, without even noticing it. Shaking herself out of the moment of surprise, she hurried to button her blouse and cover her naked legs with the blanket before turning to face him fully.
“What can I do for you, Captain Apollo?” she asked, her voice betraying neither the earlier evident sleepiness nor her state of part undress. It sounded as presidential as he had ever heard it.
“I… uhmm… I just wanted to ask if there was anything I could do for you before I shuttle back to Galactica.”
“No, thank you. Get some sleep.”
Working up his courage, he shook his head. “I beg to differ, Madame President.” She raised an eyebrow in question. “I could help you loosen those muscles.”
“I don’t think that…”
“Please. It’ll only get worse with time and give you a headache. Please, turn around.” He stepped closer, and, although the second eyebrow joined its twin near her hairline, she wordlessly did as he had asked, presenting him with her backside. He let out a silent breath of relief.
However, he realised that this had been the easiest part of it all. Stealing himself for the experience of touching the woman he had dreamed of ever since he had first laid eyes on her - her legs, to be exact. They were made for climbing the ladders on Galactica in a short skirt - everybody who had ever been around to witness this agreed on this.
Sweeping her hair to one side, he began to rub her neck. She moaned when he hit a rather bad knot.
“Sorry.”
“’s okay.”
Tentatively, he kneaded his way lower, his fingers peeking under her collar. He felt her take a deep breath. “Hold for a moment.” She opened the buttons of her blouse again and slid the material off her shoulders. He held his breath as his dream came true. The night would be short of sleep. ‘Be careful what you wish for, you might get it,’ his subconscious teased.
The sight of bare presidential back confirmed what he had suspected - the beauty of her legs extended to the rest of her body.
Contrary to her muscles, her skin was soft to the touch, just as one would guess from looking at it. By now, his movements were sure as he worked her shoulders. With time, she leaned further and further forward.
“Lay down,” he suggested, halting his motion.
“Hmm?” Apparently, she was relaxed bordering on sleep.
“Lay down. It’ll be more comfortable that way.”
“Hmhm.” She seemed to agree.
Soon, he was treated with the view of the whole expanse of the presidential backside, obscured only by a simple white bra and matching panties. His fingers used the freedom to roam over every inch of the space between waistline and bra and above. It didn’t take long for the bra to get on his nerves. Without giving it any further thought, he opened the closer and pushed the material aside. She tensed for a moment but soon relaxed again when he made no other move but continuing his massage.
The longer he looked at the skin, though, the harder it became to resist the urge to feel it not only under his hands but also beneath his lips. Skin like this was made to be worshipped by any means. He leaned down but pulled himself up shortly before his lips would have made contact with her. This course of action was repeated several times; each time, it took him longer to pull himself together until he didn’t make it in time and his lips pressed against her shoulder. Her whole body became instantly rigid, even her breathing appeared to have stopped. Nevertheless, she didn’t voice any protest or attempted to put any distance between them - a fact he found encouraging. Slowly, he took is lips off her skin only to put them down in a second kiss an inch to the side again.
“Lee?” she breathed out.
“Please, Mada… Laura.” It was impossible to think of this almost naked woman as the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Presidents were asexual, Laura was anything but. She oozed sexuality with her curves, the cream-coloured skin and the flaming hair. The personification of temptation.
“Lee, you should… we shouldn’t…”
“Laura, please. Don’t resist. Don’t do anything. Just relax.”
“Lee…”
“Please.” He pressed his lips onto her neck, nuzzling her hair.
She sighed. “No one will know?”
He nodded although he knew she couldn’t see it. “No one will know,” he confirmed.
“Good.” Turning slightly onto her side, she looked at him.
Considering this an invitation, he leaned in and kissed her lips while one of his hands trailed over her waist from there upward to her breasts which had, for the most part, escaped the opened bra. Tracing the swell of a breast before cupping it and rolling her onto her back, he couldn’t believe his fortune. Frak sleep! This was better by far and much more than he would have ever dared hope for. Next, he took off the bra altogether, his every move observed by her eyes that still radiated discomfort even though her whole form was relaxed. Getting nervous under her scrutiny, he kissed her lids shut. As much as he loved her vivid green eyes, he hoped not to see them for a while, or he might not be able to fulfil his desire for his lips and hands to get to know her better. Given that he could drown in her eyes on a daily basis but the sight and feel of her naked torso was an exclusivity, the decision between those options was an easy one right now.
Satisfied that she indeed kept her eyes closed, he took one of her hands in each of his and began to massage her fingers, caressed his way up along her arms after some time and then down her sides, never breaking the connection to not startle her with an unexpected touch. He wanted her to relax and enjoy, wanted to feel her, not to drive her out of her mind; as nice as that would be, beggars couldn’t be choosers. His fingers trailed over her stomach, circled her navel, making her giggle softly before slowly wandering upward to her breast. He cupped the beautiful, round assets and placed a kiss on each erect nipple. She squirmed slightly when he brushed his thumbs over the peaks, and even more so when he started to suckle them.
Gods, she felt good under his lips. He showered her rack with butterfly kisses, enjoying the little moans she made in response. As his hands moved downward again, his lips realised there was more to explore and headed south as well. In rolling lines, he kissed a path over her stomach, his tongue making a detour into her navel and stopping at the line of her panties.
Reluctantly parting from her body, he moved down her legs with only his fingers skimming over her skin. At her feet, he began the same treatment he had earlier bestowed upon her hands and arms; first massaging her feet then working his way up over her calves and thighs. She sighed in a way that sounded almost frustrated when he reached the barrier of her panties, the total opposite of her in their innocent whiteness, again - only now at the other end. He traced the outline of the fabric with his index finger, contemplating his next move.
In the end not daring ask for more than she had already given him, his hands were starting their journey back down to her feet when she lifted her hips ever so slightly but in a clear invitation. Momentarily flabbergasted, he was unable to do anything but stare. She opened one eye and raised an eyebrow at him. If the expression was questioning or challenging, he didn’t know, but it pulled him out of his motionlessness, and he swiftly removed the last obscuring article. Once it was off, she rolled onto her stomach again, wriggling her ass. He had to smile; she was definitely cute when she wasn’t presidential.
Just like the rest of her, her buttocks were perfect and felt great moulded into his palms. For a while, he kneaded the cheeks, occasionally leaning down to kiss them - who wouldn’t take the opportunity to kiss a presidential ass that fine? - and making a beeline up her back or down her thighs, dipping his fingers farther and farther between her legs until she parted them a bit. His curious digits instantly took her up on the offer and caressed her sex, albeit almost shyly. Moaning, she writhed, pressing into his touch, encouraging him to be bolder. Not having to be told twice, he expertly fondled her sex. The smell of her lust filled his nostrils, made his mouth water. Without any resistance, she let him turn her around onto her back and spread her legs, between which he seated himself on his knees.
First kissing her nipples, simply because they were irresistibly hard, he then placed his mouth on her wet sex. With his thumbs, he parted her labia, opened her to his lips, tongue and teeth. He licked, nibbled, caressed, suckled, teased with his breath until she came hard under his ministrations, her juices flowing over his fingers and tongue.
Her breathing heavy, her body spent and relaxed, she was a picture of contentedness and peace, lying naked on the covers. Again, staring at her was all he was capable of, fascinated by the image that was destroyed a moment later when she opened the curtain to allow him entrance, wearing a light blue, silk nightgown, still busy tying her robe.
This was going to be a long night.
= End Chapter 3 =
Author: Ria
Pairing (this Chapter): Laura/Lee
Rating: NC-17
Spoiler: up to 1x03 - Bastille Day
Disclaimer: Characters are property of RDM and Universal Pictures.
Author's Note: Written for Sira01. Thank you for allowing me to share this. *hugs*
In the End It Was All About... - The Six Men Who Wanted Laura Roslin and the One Who Got Her
Chapter Three: Admiration
In the end, it was all about admiration.
They had told him to go ahead, that he wouldn’t disturb her; she was usually still awake and working at this hour. It was the slight difference between ‘usually’ and ‘always’ which made him nervous. He was torn between hoping to find her working and wishing to encounter her naked on top of the covers of her cot. A woman like she had to have a healthy need of the sexual kind. Never mind that orgasms were said to help release tension. Although he was aware that there was no chance in Hades she would ever choose him to join her, to help her gain some release, a man could dream, couldn’t he? He certainly wouldn’t mind a glimpse at what her suits concealed all day, a little something to fuel his fantasy and provide pleasant dreams. His good conscience nudged him hard between the ribs, reminding him that it was his commander in chief he was having improper thoughts about, but he shrugged it off, arguing that he only fantasised about her off-duty.
His heart beating faster than it should, he announced his presence outside the closed curtain which served as a sorry excuse for a door to provide at least a bit of privacy for the woman who carried the responsibility for the remainder of mankind on her delicate shoulders
“Yes?” her voice came from the other side, sounding strained and tired.
Pulling the curtain aside, he stepped into what could be called her private quarters and closed it again behind himself. Upon turning around, he found her sitting with crossed legs on the covers of her improvised bed. As far as he could tell from behind, her blouse hung open while she was trying to massage her shoulder. He cleared his throat, not sure what else to say or do. Instantly, her head shot around, clearly surprised to find him standing there. Either she had already forgotten about him knocking or hadn’t really registered it in the first place, and she had reacted instinctively, without even noticing it. Shaking herself out of the moment of surprise, she hurried to button her blouse and cover her naked legs with the blanket before turning to face him fully.
“What can I do for you, Captain Apollo?” she asked, her voice betraying neither the earlier evident sleepiness nor her state of part undress. It sounded as presidential as he had ever heard it.
“I… uhmm… I just wanted to ask if there was anything I could do for you before I shuttle back to Galactica.”
“No, thank you. Get some sleep.”
Working up his courage, he shook his head. “I beg to differ, Madame President.” She raised an eyebrow in question. “I could help you loosen those muscles.”
“I don’t think that…”
“Please. It’ll only get worse with time and give you a headache. Please, turn around.” He stepped closer, and, although the second eyebrow joined its twin near her hairline, she wordlessly did as he had asked, presenting him with her backside. He let out a silent breath of relief.
However, he realised that this had been the easiest part of it all. Stealing himself for the experience of touching the woman he had dreamed of ever since he had first laid eyes on her - her legs, to be exact. They were made for climbing the ladders on Galactica in a short skirt - everybody who had ever been around to witness this agreed on this.
Sweeping her hair to one side, he began to rub her neck. She moaned when he hit a rather bad knot.
“Sorry.”
“’s okay.”
Tentatively, he kneaded his way lower, his fingers peeking under her collar. He felt her take a deep breath. “Hold for a moment.” She opened the buttons of her blouse again and slid the material off her shoulders. He held his breath as his dream came true. The night would be short of sleep. ‘Be careful what you wish for, you might get it,’ his subconscious teased.
The sight of bare presidential back confirmed what he had suspected - the beauty of her legs extended to the rest of her body.
Contrary to her muscles, her skin was soft to the touch, just as one would guess from looking at it. By now, his movements were sure as he worked her shoulders. With time, she leaned further and further forward.
“Lay down,” he suggested, halting his motion.
“Hmm?” Apparently, she was relaxed bordering on sleep.
“Lay down. It’ll be more comfortable that way.”
“Hmhm.” She seemed to agree.
Soon, he was treated with the view of the whole expanse of the presidential backside, obscured only by a simple white bra and matching panties. His fingers used the freedom to roam over every inch of the space between waistline and bra and above. It didn’t take long for the bra to get on his nerves. Without giving it any further thought, he opened the closer and pushed the material aside. She tensed for a moment but soon relaxed again when he made no other move but continuing his massage.
The longer he looked at the skin, though, the harder it became to resist the urge to feel it not only under his hands but also beneath his lips. Skin like this was made to be worshipped by any means. He leaned down but pulled himself up shortly before his lips would have made contact with her. This course of action was repeated several times; each time, it took him longer to pull himself together until he didn’t make it in time and his lips pressed against her shoulder. Her whole body became instantly rigid, even her breathing appeared to have stopped. Nevertheless, she didn’t voice any protest or attempted to put any distance between them - a fact he found encouraging. Slowly, he took is lips off her skin only to put them down in a second kiss an inch to the side again.
“Lee?” she breathed out.
“Please, Mada… Laura.” It was impossible to think of this almost naked woman as the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Presidents were asexual, Laura was anything but. She oozed sexuality with her curves, the cream-coloured skin and the flaming hair. The personification of temptation.
“Lee, you should… we shouldn’t…”
“Laura, please. Don’t resist. Don’t do anything. Just relax.”
“Lee…”
“Please.” He pressed his lips onto her neck, nuzzling her hair.
She sighed. “No one will know?”
He nodded although he knew she couldn’t see it. “No one will know,” he confirmed.
“Good.” Turning slightly onto her side, she looked at him.
Considering this an invitation, he leaned in and kissed her lips while one of his hands trailed over her waist from there upward to her breasts which had, for the most part, escaped the opened bra. Tracing the swell of a breast before cupping it and rolling her onto her back, he couldn’t believe his fortune. Frak sleep! This was better by far and much more than he would have ever dared hope for. Next, he took off the bra altogether, his every move observed by her eyes that still radiated discomfort even though her whole form was relaxed. Getting nervous under her scrutiny, he kissed her lids shut. As much as he loved her vivid green eyes, he hoped not to see them for a while, or he might not be able to fulfil his desire for his lips and hands to get to know her better. Given that he could drown in her eyes on a daily basis but the sight and feel of her naked torso was an exclusivity, the decision between those options was an easy one right now.
Satisfied that she indeed kept her eyes closed, he took one of her hands in each of his and began to massage her fingers, caressed his way up along her arms after some time and then down her sides, never breaking the connection to not startle her with an unexpected touch. He wanted her to relax and enjoy, wanted to feel her, not to drive her out of her mind; as nice as that would be, beggars couldn’t be choosers. His fingers trailed over her stomach, circled her navel, making her giggle softly before slowly wandering upward to her breast. He cupped the beautiful, round assets and placed a kiss on each erect nipple. She squirmed slightly when he brushed his thumbs over the peaks, and even more so when he started to suckle them.
Gods, she felt good under his lips. He showered her rack with butterfly kisses, enjoying the little moans she made in response. As his hands moved downward again, his lips realised there was more to explore and headed south as well. In rolling lines, he kissed a path over her stomach, his tongue making a detour into her navel and stopping at the line of her panties.
Reluctantly parting from her body, he moved down her legs with only his fingers skimming over her skin. At her feet, he began the same treatment he had earlier bestowed upon her hands and arms; first massaging her feet then working his way up over her calves and thighs. She sighed in a way that sounded almost frustrated when he reached the barrier of her panties, the total opposite of her in their innocent whiteness, again - only now at the other end. He traced the outline of the fabric with his index finger, contemplating his next move.
In the end not daring ask for more than she had already given him, his hands were starting their journey back down to her feet when she lifted her hips ever so slightly but in a clear invitation. Momentarily flabbergasted, he was unable to do anything but stare. She opened one eye and raised an eyebrow at him. If the expression was questioning or challenging, he didn’t know, but it pulled him out of his motionlessness, and he swiftly removed the last obscuring article. Once it was off, she rolled onto her stomach again, wriggling her ass. He had to smile; she was definitely cute when she wasn’t presidential.
Just like the rest of her, her buttocks were perfect and felt great moulded into his palms. For a while, he kneaded the cheeks, occasionally leaning down to kiss them - who wouldn’t take the opportunity to kiss a presidential ass that fine? - and making a beeline up her back or down her thighs, dipping his fingers farther and farther between her legs until she parted them a bit. His curious digits instantly took her up on the offer and caressed her sex, albeit almost shyly. Moaning, she writhed, pressing into his touch, encouraging him to be bolder. Not having to be told twice, he expertly fondled her sex. The smell of her lust filled his nostrils, made his mouth water. Without any resistance, she let him turn her around onto her back and spread her legs, between which he seated himself on his knees.
First kissing her nipples, simply because they were irresistibly hard, he then placed his mouth on her wet sex. With his thumbs, he parted her labia, opened her to his lips, tongue and teeth. He licked, nibbled, caressed, suckled, teased with his breath until she came hard under his ministrations, her juices flowing over his fingers and tongue.
Her breathing heavy, her body spent and relaxed, she was a picture of contentedness and peace, lying naked on the covers. Again, staring at her was all he was capable of, fascinated by the image that was destroyed a moment later when she opened the curtain to allow him entrance, wearing a light blue, silk nightgown, still busy tying her robe.
This was going to be a long night.
= End Chapter 3 =