Fic: Of A Dream Come True
Title: Of A Dream Come True
Author: Ria
Rating: NC-17 / MA
Pairing: Laura/Sean
Spoiler: 4x20 - Daybreak II & III
Summary: What happened before she threw him out. Prequel to Leftover: Frustration
Disclaimer: Characters are property of RDM and Universal Pictures.
Author's Note: I took some artistic licence with Laura's clothes and Sean's expression/mood near the end, so this is slightly AU.
Of A Dream Come True
As I’m standing in the dark on the street in front of her house, I would be lying if I said that I’m not disappointed, but it would also be a lie to say I’m sad. The night lasted longer than anticipated; I got a lot more out of this than I had ever dared dream of, hope for. After all, how many of us can claim for their secret college crushes to become reality? I hadn’t expected her to recognise me, but obviously, teachers speak the truth when they say that they’re going to remember all of us till the end of time. I had feared that the evening would end right then and there, the moment she debunked my (former) relation to her. However, to my utter amazement, it didn’t. She didn’t throw me out but bestowed one of the best nights of my life upon me.
When I first got a call from a friend, informing me that she had arranged for a blind date - or so she thought - for me with a certain Laura Roslin, I couldn’t believe my luck. Back at college, there hadn’t been many of us who hadn’t had a crush on Miss Roslin at some point. We spent whole lessons paying more attention to her incredible legs and red locks than to the knowledge she tried to impart. Her always decent yet somehow hinting to sexy clothes didn’t help the matter at all. We wanted to peel away layer after layer, wanted to know what lay underneath, suspecting, hoping to uncover some dark-coloured lace.
A good friend of mine who had never met or even seen her, who had known her only through my ramblings, had always teased me by stating that she was most probably frigid. Now, I know that not only was he wrong, but that even our wildest fantasies didn’t do her justice.
After we had gotten over the first, kind of awkward minutes, conversation came easily. We talked about where life had led me, about the pyramid championships, music and wine; our more private lives, especially hers, the family situation wasn’t even mentioned. It seemed that sadness lurked behind her light-heartedness that might as well have been a façade. Not that I dared, cared to bring up the subject. Why cloud a nice evening with uncomfortable topics? Why take on problems of a person you’ll most likely never see again? And I didn’t expect to meet her again, certainly not in this way - and by now I’m very sure it won’t happen. So I tried to get the most out of the evening.
She had relaxed on the couch when I returned from the bathroom, her head leaned back, resting on the backrest of the sofa, baring her creamy neck. I’m not exactly sure what come over me, but I couldn’t resist the delicate-looking skin. My feet stopped behind the piece of upholstery, behind her, and I bent down, kissing the part of her that only my eyes had feasted on a moment ago tentatively. She was clearly surprised but didn’t resist, didn’t shy away from my touch. Quite the contrary. After I had bestowed a few kisses along her neck, she grabbed my head and guided my lips to hers. The aggressiveness, the passion she poured into the kiss blew me away. It took a few moments for me to catch up. Never before had a woman kissed me quite like that, with such hunger, never had my mouth been attacked this way. Her tongue invading my mouth, encouraging my own to make a move, felt great, was irresistible.
While I needed one hand to keep my balance, to not tumble over, the other boldly found its way to her chest. This wasn’t me, this couldn’t be me, but it was a heady, wonderful feeling. As I carefully fondled her breast through her clothes, she moaned into our oral connection and bit my lip. Another thing I wasn’t accustomed to, but my body kind of relished the slight sting of pain.
Her breathing was heavy when we parted; as was mine. Panting, we stared at each other, her gaze radiating lust, my hand still resting on her breast. As I realised the latter, embarrassment rose within me and I tried to remove my hand. However, her hand shot up to hold mine in place. With a challenging smile on her lips, she moved my hand to squeeze her soft flesh. I felt my eyes growing wide at her forwardness, her boldness, the prospect of what was going to transpire. The surprise at her move made me pause in immovableness that only fled from my body when she raised an eyebrow and asked, “You staying or leaving?” A verbal reply refused to form on my lips, so I opted for answering with them and kissed her again, trying to return the passion she had shown earlier.
Panting, she pulled her lips from mine and grabbed my tie, by which she led me to her bedroom. I could do nothing but follow this temptress, this mistress like an obedient puppy. However, by the time we reached our destination, an urgent passion had taken possession of me, reigned over my actions, guided my hands to the buttons of her blouse and undoing them while she made short work of my tie and shirt. Since her fingers weren’t shaking, unlike my own, she was already busy with the closer of my pants when I opened the last button and pushed the material aside to reveal a crimson bra. My pulse quickened at the sight of her porcelain skin partly obscured by the lacy fabric, and my briefs became even more restrictive. This woman was a goddess, just like we had always expected, fantasised. And she wasn’t even near naked yet. What was she doing to me? Yes, I liked women, had been with attractive ones, but none had ever affected me with such a ferocity as Laura Roslin did at this moment. This effect obviously didn’t elude her, for she smiled enigmatically and shed her blouse, dropping it carelessly to the floor. Her skirt followed before she took my hands to cup her breasts while she sent my trousers downward and squeezed my erection through my briefs. It was embarrassing just how close to orgasm I was simply due to seeing this long-legged beauty with flaming locks in sheer lingerie and feeling her touch me with clothes preventing the sensation of skin-to-skin contact.
I had to get the upper hand or I’d come before this had even really begun. So I stepped out of my pants, grasped her hands and lowered her backward onto the bed, sitting down beside her, gazing at her for some moments. Her heaving chest captured my attention. I just couldn’t stop looking at this piece of fleshly art. With a forefinger, I traced the roundness, the outline of her nipples visible through the sheer material of the bra. When I tweaked an already taut peak, she drew in a breath with a hiss but didn’t complain. Apparently, she relished the light pain. For a second, I panicked and prayed to the Gods that she didn’t want to continue in this direction because it would be totally out of my comfort zone and would set a fast and unsatisfying end to the evening. Thankfully, my prayer was answered. She beckoned me down for a kiss - an invitation I couldn’t resist, didn’t want to. I stretched out on my side next to her and claimed her lips. She hummed as she gave as good as she got. This more aggressive thing grew on me, proved to be entertaining. Seemed she could still teach me a thing or two. This lesson, though, was a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the ones at college. As the kiss dragged on, she inched even closer to me, turned onto her side, swung a long leg over my thigh to press her groin easily against mine. My upper hand was clearly slipping away at a hurried pace. Couldn’t have that - the earlier reason still valid. To save, to regain the dominate role, I rolled over, taking her with me so she came to rest on her back under me. Not the best move in order to accomplish what I had aimed at, I realised a few moments later when she raised her other leg to meet the one she had never lowered on my ass and started to push her hips against mine.
Gods damn it. This woman was driving me crazy. So near and yet so far… I cursed myself for not having taken off either of our underwear. The reactions of her body to my answering moves, my pushing back against her, worked in my favour to remedy this unfortunate situation, for when she arched her back, I reached beneath her and unclasped her bra, baring her breasts at last. The garment flung uncaringly aside, my mouth was unable to stay away from the invitingly hard nipples. So I bowed, licked a rosy pebble before rounding my lips and suckling it. The moans that escaped her were the greatest praise I had received in a long time, and when she grabbed my head to press me impossibly closer to her bosom, I knew for sure that I wasn’t the only one enjoying this action. So I happily continued to worship her soft assets with my hands and mouth. Soon, she was writhing beneath me, causing my ego, my male pride to make a mental not to date, to bed more responsive women in the future.
Along with the intensity of her wriggling, my arousal rose, nearing the point of no return. And we still weren’t completely naked! This wouldn’t do any longer. Forcefully, to overcome my reluctance to do it, I pried my lips from her breast and sat up to kneel between her legs. Her dispraising glare almost made me chuckle because I remembered it, had seen it all too often under different circumstances. To see it now, in this situation, was an unexpected reminder that I was literally in bed with my favourite - albeit former - teacher. Nervousness boiled up in me upon this sudden realisation of what I had tried to suppress, to ignore.
The foot which trailed along my erection shook me out of my reverie with a vengeance. Unable to bite back a groan and to hold on to the last snippet of patience, I pulled her panties down, climbing off the bed in the process. I made short work of my own remaining piece of clothing before taking her feet, placing them on my shoulder, over which they slid as I neared her again on my knees until the tip of my member collided with her wetness. In that moment, something snapped inside of me and I lost it, drove into her with a speed and force that was unknown to me, but I had to have her, my body had to have her. Even her cry - of pain or passion or maybe both, I’m not sure - couldn’t’ bring me back to my senses entirely. It sufficed to make me remain motionless to let her body adjust to me but not to have me regain my manners and apologise. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind, for she soon smiled at me, urging me to continue, to start moving. The squeeze of her inner muscles around my cock, probably meant as an encouragement, however, nearly rendered me unable to do just that. I was so keyed up, so close to coming undone that it wouldn’t, didn’t take much for me to find release. Spurred on by the rush of pre-orgasmic sensations, I pumped into her in a hard and frantic rhythm. She raised, moved her hips to meet mine, to intensity the feeling - most likely more for herself than for us, me, but I wouldn’t know. I was too far gone. Staring down at her slightly flushed body, her jiggling breasts, hearing her moan turned me on even more.
Almost all my senses were fogged by this amazing woman who managed to turn me into a foreigner to myself with an easiness that was scary. I didn’t recognise myself, couldn’t restrain myself, couldn’t make the slow love to this stunning beautiful form that it deserved. Looking at her, a battle broke loose within me between my eyes and my mouth. The former wanted me to continue to devour the sight she presented, the second demanded to satisfy the momentarily neglected sense and latch onto her erect nipples. I surrendered to the latter, leaning down and nipping a taut bud, causing her to arch her back, pressing herself further against me in result. After that, it didn’t take long, went fast, to be honest. The orgasm clouded my mind, nothing registered with me but the blissful sensation. To my embarrassment, several moments passed between me collapsing on her, me noticing it and rolling off her.
Lying next to her, I studied her face, and the expression spoke of dissatisfaction. I made the attempt to reach out between her legs, but she rolled away, pulled a nightie from under a pillow and left the bed toward the bathroom.
With a sigh of frustration, I stared at the ceiling. Something had gone seriously wrong, and she wouldn’t give me a chance to try to make it right. A last glimmer of hope kept me from searching my clothes and getting dressed, but I knew this was it. She confirmed this assumption when she finally returned, clothed in a slip that had my arousal rising all over again. No woman should look that sexy, especially not when she threw you out, but Laura Roslin could and did.
She didn’t bring me to the door, told me goodbye without looking at me. This wasn’t the outcome of the evening I had expected, not the end I had hoped for, but it was what I got.
I cast a last lingering glance at the house, tug my hands into the pockets of my trousers and walk away. At this time of the night, it will take me some time to get home.
= End =
Author: Ria
Rating: NC-17 / MA
Pairing: Laura/Sean
Spoiler: 4x20 - Daybreak II & III
Summary: What happened before she threw him out. Prequel to Leftover: Frustration
Disclaimer: Characters are property of RDM and Universal Pictures.
Author's Note: I took some artistic licence with Laura's clothes and Sean's expression/mood near the end, so this is slightly AU.
Of A Dream Come True
As I’m standing in the dark on the street in front of her house, I would be lying if I said that I’m not disappointed, but it would also be a lie to say I’m sad. The night lasted longer than anticipated; I got a lot more out of this than I had ever dared dream of, hope for. After all, how many of us can claim for their secret college crushes to become reality? I hadn’t expected her to recognise me, but obviously, teachers speak the truth when they say that they’re going to remember all of us till the end of time. I had feared that the evening would end right then and there, the moment she debunked my (former) relation to her. However, to my utter amazement, it didn’t. She didn’t throw me out but bestowed one of the best nights of my life upon me.
When I first got a call from a friend, informing me that she had arranged for a blind date - or so she thought - for me with a certain Laura Roslin, I couldn’t believe my luck. Back at college, there hadn’t been many of us who hadn’t had a crush on Miss Roslin at some point. We spent whole lessons paying more attention to her incredible legs and red locks than to the knowledge she tried to impart. Her always decent yet somehow hinting to sexy clothes didn’t help the matter at all. We wanted to peel away layer after layer, wanted to know what lay underneath, suspecting, hoping to uncover some dark-coloured lace.
A good friend of mine who had never met or even seen her, who had known her only through my ramblings, had always teased me by stating that she was most probably frigid. Now, I know that not only was he wrong, but that even our wildest fantasies didn’t do her justice.
After we had gotten over the first, kind of awkward minutes, conversation came easily. We talked about where life had led me, about the pyramid championships, music and wine; our more private lives, especially hers, the family situation wasn’t even mentioned. It seemed that sadness lurked behind her light-heartedness that might as well have been a façade. Not that I dared, cared to bring up the subject. Why cloud a nice evening with uncomfortable topics? Why take on problems of a person you’ll most likely never see again? And I didn’t expect to meet her again, certainly not in this way - and by now I’m very sure it won’t happen. So I tried to get the most out of the evening.
She had relaxed on the couch when I returned from the bathroom, her head leaned back, resting on the backrest of the sofa, baring her creamy neck. I’m not exactly sure what come over me, but I couldn’t resist the delicate-looking skin. My feet stopped behind the piece of upholstery, behind her, and I bent down, kissing the part of her that only my eyes had feasted on a moment ago tentatively. She was clearly surprised but didn’t resist, didn’t shy away from my touch. Quite the contrary. After I had bestowed a few kisses along her neck, she grabbed my head and guided my lips to hers. The aggressiveness, the passion she poured into the kiss blew me away. It took a few moments for me to catch up. Never before had a woman kissed me quite like that, with such hunger, never had my mouth been attacked this way. Her tongue invading my mouth, encouraging my own to make a move, felt great, was irresistible.
While I needed one hand to keep my balance, to not tumble over, the other boldly found its way to her chest. This wasn’t me, this couldn’t be me, but it was a heady, wonderful feeling. As I carefully fondled her breast through her clothes, she moaned into our oral connection and bit my lip. Another thing I wasn’t accustomed to, but my body kind of relished the slight sting of pain.
Her breathing was heavy when we parted; as was mine. Panting, we stared at each other, her gaze radiating lust, my hand still resting on her breast. As I realised the latter, embarrassment rose within me and I tried to remove my hand. However, her hand shot up to hold mine in place. With a challenging smile on her lips, she moved my hand to squeeze her soft flesh. I felt my eyes growing wide at her forwardness, her boldness, the prospect of what was going to transpire. The surprise at her move made me pause in immovableness that only fled from my body when she raised an eyebrow and asked, “You staying or leaving?” A verbal reply refused to form on my lips, so I opted for answering with them and kissed her again, trying to return the passion she had shown earlier.
Panting, she pulled her lips from mine and grabbed my tie, by which she led me to her bedroom. I could do nothing but follow this temptress, this mistress like an obedient puppy. However, by the time we reached our destination, an urgent passion had taken possession of me, reigned over my actions, guided my hands to the buttons of her blouse and undoing them while she made short work of my tie and shirt. Since her fingers weren’t shaking, unlike my own, she was already busy with the closer of my pants when I opened the last button and pushed the material aside to reveal a crimson bra. My pulse quickened at the sight of her porcelain skin partly obscured by the lacy fabric, and my briefs became even more restrictive. This woman was a goddess, just like we had always expected, fantasised. And she wasn’t even near naked yet. What was she doing to me? Yes, I liked women, had been with attractive ones, but none had ever affected me with such a ferocity as Laura Roslin did at this moment. This effect obviously didn’t elude her, for she smiled enigmatically and shed her blouse, dropping it carelessly to the floor. Her skirt followed before she took my hands to cup her breasts while she sent my trousers downward and squeezed my erection through my briefs. It was embarrassing just how close to orgasm I was simply due to seeing this long-legged beauty with flaming locks in sheer lingerie and feeling her touch me with clothes preventing the sensation of skin-to-skin contact.
I had to get the upper hand or I’d come before this had even really begun. So I stepped out of my pants, grasped her hands and lowered her backward onto the bed, sitting down beside her, gazing at her for some moments. Her heaving chest captured my attention. I just couldn’t stop looking at this piece of fleshly art. With a forefinger, I traced the roundness, the outline of her nipples visible through the sheer material of the bra. When I tweaked an already taut peak, she drew in a breath with a hiss but didn’t complain. Apparently, she relished the light pain. For a second, I panicked and prayed to the Gods that she didn’t want to continue in this direction because it would be totally out of my comfort zone and would set a fast and unsatisfying end to the evening. Thankfully, my prayer was answered. She beckoned me down for a kiss - an invitation I couldn’t resist, didn’t want to. I stretched out on my side next to her and claimed her lips. She hummed as she gave as good as she got. This more aggressive thing grew on me, proved to be entertaining. Seemed she could still teach me a thing or two. This lesson, though, was a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the ones at college. As the kiss dragged on, she inched even closer to me, turned onto her side, swung a long leg over my thigh to press her groin easily against mine. My upper hand was clearly slipping away at a hurried pace. Couldn’t have that - the earlier reason still valid. To save, to regain the dominate role, I rolled over, taking her with me so she came to rest on her back under me. Not the best move in order to accomplish what I had aimed at, I realised a few moments later when she raised her other leg to meet the one she had never lowered on my ass and started to push her hips against mine.
Gods damn it. This woman was driving me crazy. So near and yet so far… I cursed myself for not having taken off either of our underwear. The reactions of her body to my answering moves, my pushing back against her, worked in my favour to remedy this unfortunate situation, for when she arched her back, I reached beneath her and unclasped her bra, baring her breasts at last. The garment flung uncaringly aside, my mouth was unable to stay away from the invitingly hard nipples. So I bowed, licked a rosy pebble before rounding my lips and suckling it. The moans that escaped her were the greatest praise I had received in a long time, and when she grabbed my head to press me impossibly closer to her bosom, I knew for sure that I wasn’t the only one enjoying this action. So I happily continued to worship her soft assets with my hands and mouth. Soon, she was writhing beneath me, causing my ego, my male pride to make a mental not to date, to bed more responsive women in the future.
Along with the intensity of her wriggling, my arousal rose, nearing the point of no return. And we still weren’t completely naked! This wouldn’t do any longer. Forcefully, to overcome my reluctance to do it, I pried my lips from her breast and sat up to kneel between her legs. Her dispraising glare almost made me chuckle because I remembered it, had seen it all too often under different circumstances. To see it now, in this situation, was an unexpected reminder that I was literally in bed with my favourite - albeit former - teacher. Nervousness boiled up in me upon this sudden realisation of what I had tried to suppress, to ignore.
The foot which trailed along my erection shook me out of my reverie with a vengeance. Unable to bite back a groan and to hold on to the last snippet of patience, I pulled her panties down, climbing off the bed in the process. I made short work of my own remaining piece of clothing before taking her feet, placing them on my shoulder, over which they slid as I neared her again on my knees until the tip of my member collided with her wetness. In that moment, something snapped inside of me and I lost it, drove into her with a speed and force that was unknown to me, but I had to have her, my body had to have her. Even her cry - of pain or passion or maybe both, I’m not sure - couldn’t’ bring me back to my senses entirely. It sufficed to make me remain motionless to let her body adjust to me but not to have me regain my manners and apologise. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind, for she soon smiled at me, urging me to continue, to start moving. The squeeze of her inner muscles around my cock, probably meant as an encouragement, however, nearly rendered me unable to do just that. I was so keyed up, so close to coming undone that it wouldn’t, didn’t take much for me to find release. Spurred on by the rush of pre-orgasmic sensations, I pumped into her in a hard and frantic rhythm. She raised, moved her hips to meet mine, to intensity the feeling - most likely more for herself than for us, me, but I wouldn’t know. I was too far gone. Staring down at her slightly flushed body, her jiggling breasts, hearing her moan turned me on even more.
Almost all my senses were fogged by this amazing woman who managed to turn me into a foreigner to myself with an easiness that was scary. I didn’t recognise myself, couldn’t restrain myself, couldn’t make the slow love to this stunning beautiful form that it deserved. Looking at her, a battle broke loose within me between my eyes and my mouth. The former wanted me to continue to devour the sight she presented, the second demanded to satisfy the momentarily neglected sense and latch onto her erect nipples. I surrendered to the latter, leaning down and nipping a taut bud, causing her to arch her back, pressing herself further against me in result. After that, it didn’t take long, went fast, to be honest. The orgasm clouded my mind, nothing registered with me but the blissful sensation. To my embarrassment, several moments passed between me collapsing on her, me noticing it and rolling off her.
Lying next to her, I studied her face, and the expression spoke of dissatisfaction. I made the attempt to reach out between her legs, but she rolled away, pulled a nightie from under a pillow and left the bed toward the bathroom.
With a sigh of frustration, I stared at the ceiling. Something had gone seriously wrong, and she wouldn’t give me a chance to try to make it right. A last glimmer of hope kept me from searching my clothes and getting dressed, but I knew this was it. She confirmed this assumption when she finally returned, clothed in a slip that had my arousal rising all over again. No woman should look that sexy, especially not when she threw you out, but Laura Roslin could and did.
She didn’t bring me to the door, told me goodbye without looking at me. This wasn’t the outcome of the evening I had expected, not the end I had hoped for, but it was what I got.
I cast a last lingering glance at the house, tug my hands into the pockets of my trousers and walk away. At this time of the night, it will take me some time to get home.
= End =