A/R REMIX: "We Scream"
ROUND TWO! Because I forgot to explain on Monday: I will be posting two stories on Mondays and Wednesdays until we're out of stories.
Title: We Scream
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: NC-17
Remixed fic: I Scream, You Scream by flamingo55
Title: We Scream
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Uhm... lack of plot?
Remixed fic: I Scream, You Scream by flamingo55
We Scream
This had definitely been worth the wait, he thought as he looked up at the woman straddling him, her hair in complete disarray - a state that he had contributed to a lot. It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen each other in between at all. Quite the contrary, but all those meetings had involved work of the paper kind, proper hairdos and definitely a lot more clothing than they were wearing right now.
The sudden cold that hit his skin near one of his nipples reminded him what else hadn’t been part of those times spent together in the same room - ice cream. While yet no C-Buck crunch, it was still rarity in the Fleet, one not too many people knew about in order to not cause a riot. However, having a distinctively naked Laura Roslin sitting on his hips was a very good reason in his book to forget about anything else he was blessed with - at least for the moment - even though at some point, it had looked like there wouldn’t be any ice cream tonight which should make it even more special, more memorable.
How had he been supposed to know or even guess that the women had conspired against him, that one particular woman had had the same plans he had and had just been faster executing them than he?
Three days ago, they had finally found a free evening in their schedules and no more urgent paperwork on their desks. So tonight had been blocked in their calendars. The day after, he had called Marianne to order a bowl of ice cream for the date, only to be told that it wouldn’t be possible to get any at that point due to complications in the production process. To say he had been frustrated and disappointed would be an understatement. Especially the latter had been difficult to hide. He knew he had no right to feel this way, considering he had already had a taste of this delicious invention whereas the majority of the fleet still only had their distant memories of how ice cream tasted, what it felt like when it melted on your tongue.
However, it all been forgotten the moment she showed up at his hatch - with no folders on her arm but a familiar-looking container in her hands instead. At his surprised expression, she had only smirked - wordless communication tended to be his favourite one, no matter how much he enjoyed the written words of great litterateurs.
It was part of what attracted her to him: her ability to understand him when he didn’t say a word and to respond in kind. This trait had come in handy during one or the other meeting. It seemed, though, that even looks weren’t necessary when it came to planning their evening together.
Granted, her eating ice cream off his chest was not quite the role allocation he had had in mind, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.
Slowly, she moved down his body, nibbling, kissing, licking along his scar, following its trail. The further south she moved, the more he started to squirm, had difficulties lying still under her ministrations. When she started to fondle his testicles, he summoned all his will power and tried to tug her up his body again. As much as he would enjoy a blowjob, it was not what he had envisioned for this night. It would change said plans drastically, shortening them to be exact. It had been too long since he had last been treated to this - or any other kind of - carnal pleasure so it would most likely be over before it even really started, and he couldn’t count on rising to the occasion again before the end of the night. It was a possibility but in no way a given.
At first, she resisted his attempts to urge her upward, and it needed an almost strangled “please” from him to make her comply, slide up along his body until her lips touched his in a kiss as passionate as their sweet treat was cold.
Keeping their lips fused, he wrapped his arms around her back, slung a leg over hers and switched their positions on his rather narrow rack.
Once the kiss broke due to the need for air, he took his time looking down at her, finding it impossible not to smile. It had been too long since he’d had a bounty in his rack - the last time Laura had been lying here sick not withstanding - and she made for a very beautiful one, especially with her lips swollen from his kisses, a light blush colouring her cheeks, her eyes shining with lust staring straight back at him.
“Not fair. I wasn’t done with you yet,” she complained, although it sounded very token to his ears.
“Later. I want some of that ice cream, too.” He grinned at her while reaching for the spoon to spread some of the rare treat onto her chest, paying special attention to her breasts and nipples, the latter hardening instantly. She seemed to enjoy the coldness on her skin, hummed contently as he started to lick the melting substance off of her. He took his time caressing her with his tongue and lips, relishing the task even more than the taste of the ice cream, nibbling and sucking at her nipples, careful not to leave marks - especially not in places where they could be spotted by anybody else. Judging by the sounds she made, she enjoyed this treatment as much as he had liked her ministrations earlier. She continued to hum, moaned, occasionally voiced a breathy ‘yes’.
Her being an apparently vocal lover came as a pleasant surprise. He couldn’t deny having fantasised about her naked underneath or above him in his rack, on his couch, on his desk, on her desk, on her cot, in a raptor - the list went on, was countably infinite. However, he was aware of the fact that there would be differences between fantasy and reality and thus didn’t expect her to act like his mind had envisioned. So far, reality pretty much beat fantasy, though. After all, there was nothing like the real thing. Nothing like Laura writhing on his sheets, urging him on and begging him to stop at the same time. Nothing like experiencing her with all his senses. Nothing like playfully dipping his tongue into her navel to not waste even a drop of liquefied ice cream and making her giggle in the process.
From the first time he had been witness to one of her giggle attacks, he had thought that laughing suited her, had made it his secret mission to make her at least smile regularly. All these moments paled in comparison to feeling her naked form giggle against his own. Whoever considered sex a serious affair was misguided and to be pitied as he missed out on a lot of fun in life.
As he relished the joyfulness bubbling out of the woman beneath him, he contemplated how much more fun he dared have, if it was worth risking staining his sheets or if it would be better to play it safer. He had just finished thinking the question when he mentally slapped himself on the forehead, spooned some ice cream with two fingers and pushed them between her labia. The shriek that interrupted the giggles told him that the move had been unexpected, the way her expression morphed from shock to a mischievous smile while she spread her legs further for him said that it wasn’t an unwelcome one. If there had been any doubt left in him about her knowing what she wanted, it would have been vaporised right now. Laura definitely wasn’t a shy lover as she had proven earlier when she had spoon-fed him and used some purposely-spilled ice cream as an excuse to undress him - a bold tactical manoeuvre he had copied without shame. Good tactics deserved to be repeated after all.
Yes, she absolutely was his kind of woman. If he weren’t busy with his tongue, he might have snorted or shaken his head in slight disbelief. When they had first met, he couldn’t have gotten rid of her fast enough; now he couldn’t get close enough to her for long enough. At some point, he should thank fate for putting this woman in his path and forcing him to deal with her for longer than five minutes and a handshake. Happiness truly could be found in the most unexpected places. Granted, between the legs of a beautiful woman was not an unlikely place for a soldier to find joy; the identity of the woman whose clitoris he was currently sucking was the real surprise - at least compared to where they had started, in light of recent times not so much.
Holding her rocking hips in place, he licked, suckled, scratched and nipped more insistently by the minute. The ice cream had long been cleared away, leaving behind a flavour that was just her. Right now, he couldn’t be bothered to decide which one he liked best and he didn’t think he ever could. Not that it matter. What did matter, though, was her writhing increasing, her threatening him with bodily harm should he not make her come - quote - right frakking now - unquote. Dirty talk had never been more adorable, but he better never let her know that if he wanted a repeat performance.
After another few minutes of sweet torture, he gave in to her pleas, pushed her over the edge into the sea of orgasmic fulfilment. The loud moan that accompanied her inner walls pulsating around his fingers rapidly made his cock twitch. For quite a while, he had managed to ignore his pressing need, had concentrated on the woman in his bed, in his arms, on giving her pleasure, on imprinting her reactions into his memory for later usage during similar occasions and as entertainment during boring, seemingly endless meetings with people other than her. Watching her orgasm, however, pushed his arousal to the forefront of his mind.
Judging by the foot stroking his erection lazily, Laura hadn’t forgotten about his pleasure despite just having gotten some satisfaction. He groaned at the caress, his eyes shooting up to hers, finding them twinkling mischievously.
“May I take care of this now, Admiral?” she asked with a quiet politeness that defied not only their location and state of undress but also her having moaned his name passionately only a few minutes earlier. Her skills were astonishing, almost made him wonder how much practice she had had before the colonies had gotten nuked, if she had hurried from a frak on her desk to a cabinet meeting looking all prim and proper, giving away nothing of what had happened only a short time earlier. But only almost. The fact that she had used his rank while being naked in his rack had been given a higher priority by his mind as it created a connection between the title spoken by her with that particular voice and her looking nicely frakked. As if she could read his thoughts, her lips curled into a smirk. Devious woman. She knew what she was doing and would put his ability to keep a straight face to a thorough test soon. He could already see himself getting hard in public thanks to her. Damned woman.
“Permission granted, Madame President,” he said, mirroring her level of officiality while wrapping her title into a tone of intimacy. Her eyes narrowed, but she remained quiet, only raised an eyebrow to acknowledge his successful volley. He had gotten her back alright. However, that didn’t equal him having the upper hand in the current situation - even though he was physically still on top, at least kind of as he kneeled between her legs. From one moment to the next, she moved her lovely behind from the sheet onto his lap, wrapped her legs around his torso, rubbed her wet flesh against his erection.
“Laura,” he groaned, protracting the last vowel.
“Yes, Bill?” She grinned, pushed herself up with her arms behind her then reached for his shoulder with one hand to pull herself into a sitting position on his lap, coming face to face with him.
Although his knees complained about the added weight resting on them, he buried his hands in her hair and leaned in to kiss her deeply. Lips melting, tongues dancing - as much as he enjoyed it, some repositioning was necessary before a night spent together in this rack would once again involve Cottle. So he reluctantly tore his lips from hers, guided her up and shifted until he sat rather comfortably against the wall. Laura moved to straddle him again, slowly sinking down on his erection in the process.
For a moment, they remained motionless, eyes locked, relishing the feeling of being joined for the first time. Tenderly, she caressed his face in a way that made him actually feel handsome for the first time in decades. He had no illusions about his looks, his age, knew he didn’t fit the requirements for common beauty, had accepted it and moved on; thus her emotion-laden gaze surprised him, even more so than the kiss full of affection that followed shortly after. He wasn’t quite sure what this stunning redhead who could have her choice among many men and women - including some of his pilots - saw in him, why she had chosen him instead of a younger model with less baggage, but he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t complain, was just happy she had regardless of her motives.
Continuing to stroke his lips with hers, occasionally letting her tongue join in, she started to move her hips.
The position he had manoeuvred them into didn’t allow for much movement for him to meet her stroke for stroke. Involuntarily, he found himself at her mercy by his own fault, could ‘only’ hold onto her waist, cup her buttocks or play with her breasts. For the time being, he opted for the last two: kneaded her behind with his fingers, treated her chest - which he had chosen over her lips - to ministrations of his lips, teeth and tongue.
Fortunately, she obviously had no intention of hanging him out to dry as her motions accelerated, her inner muscles squeezing his member purposefully. Even though she had to do most of the work, the position proved to be a most enjoyable one for her. By her expression, he could watch her pleasure building along with his. As he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could hold out, though, he slid a hand to her front between them to stroke her clitoris.
The idea proved to be a good one for, a few moments later, he felt his orgasm rolling over him. Groaning loudly, he tried to concentrate on stimulating her to a second peak. His efforts turned out to be successful shortly after. She sagged against him, snuggled close, breathed heavily against his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders, he held her close while they both basked in the tingling highs that ruled over their bodies.
Being comfortable, they stayed like that for way past the time when their heart beats had evened out again. It was Laura who initiated the shift into a horizontal position, pulling him down with her under the cover, where she cuddled up to him once more.
While his hands lovingly roamed her naked body with a touch that communicated love not lust, his eyes roamed his quarters, spotting the disarray dominated by the pieces of clothes they had dropped and thrown somewhere without care earlier as well as the bowl of ice cream, ice cream that was completely melted by now. However, that was no reason to spurn the remains.
He reached for the bowl, and once it was within her range, she took it from him, offered him the spoon. A spoonful for her, a spoonful for him, they ate the last of their vespertine treat. Eventually, she put the spoon away and cleaned the bowl with her finger, not letting any of this treat go to waste, sharing with him even that way. He closed his lips around her finger, sucked it clean.
“Tastes even better.”
She smiled, contently, happily and somehow suggestively. “Absolutely.”
He’d take a combination of a few hours off, ice cream and Laura anytime, but yes, the naked, doctor-free version was definitely his favourite.
= End =
Title: We Scream
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: NC-17
Remixed fic: I Scream, You Scream by flamingo55
Title: We Scream
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Uhm... lack of plot?
Remixed fic: I Scream, You Scream by flamingo55
We Scream
This had definitely been worth the wait, he thought as he looked up at the woman straddling him, her hair in complete disarray - a state that he had contributed to a lot. It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen each other in between at all. Quite the contrary, but all those meetings had involved work of the paper kind, proper hairdos and definitely a lot more clothing than they were wearing right now.
The sudden cold that hit his skin near one of his nipples reminded him what else hadn’t been part of those times spent together in the same room - ice cream. While yet no C-Buck crunch, it was still rarity in the Fleet, one not too many people knew about in order to not cause a riot. However, having a distinctively naked Laura Roslin sitting on his hips was a very good reason in his book to forget about anything else he was blessed with - at least for the moment - even though at some point, it had looked like there wouldn’t be any ice cream tonight which should make it even more special, more memorable.
How had he been supposed to know or even guess that the women had conspired against him, that one particular woman had had the same plans he had and had just been faster executing them than he?
Three days ago, they had finally found a free evening in their schedules and no more urgent paperwork on their desks. So tonight had been blocked in their calendars. The day after, he had called Marianne to order a bowl of ice cream for the date, only to be told that it wouldn’t be possible to get any at that point due to complications in the production process. To say he had been frustrated and disappointed would be an understatement. Especially the latter had been difficult to hide. He knew he had no right to feel this way, considering he had already had a taste of this delicious invention whereas the majority of the fleet still only had their distant memories of how ice cream tasted, what it felt like when it melted on your tongue.
However, it all been forgotten the moment she showed up at his hatch - with no folders on her arm but a familiar-looking container in her hands instead. At his surprised expression, she had only smirked - wordless communication tended to be his favourite one, no matter how much he enjoyed the written words of great litterateurs.
It was part of what attracted her to him: her ability to understand him when he didn’t say a word and to respond in kind. This trait had come in handy during one or the other meeting. It seemed, though, that even looks weren’t necessary when it came to planning their evening together.
Granted, her eating ice cream off his chest was not quite the role allocation he had had in mind, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.
Slowly, she moved down his body, nibbling, kissing, licking along his scar, following its trail. The further south she moved, the more he started to squirm, had difficulties lying still under her ministrations. When she started to fondle his testicles, he summoned all his will power and tried to tug her up his body again. As much as he would enjoy a blowjob, it was not what he had envisioned for this night. It would change said plans drastically, shortening them to be exact. It had been too long since he had last been treated to this - or any other kind of - carnal pleasure so it would most likely be over before it even really started, and he couldn’t count on rising to the occasion again before the end of the night. It was a possibility but in no way a given.
At first, she resisted his attempts to urge her upward, and it needed an almost strangled “please” from him to make her comply, slide up along his body until her lips touched his in a kiss as passionate as their sweet treat was cold.
Keeping their lips fused, he wrapped his arms around her back, slung a leg over hers and switched their positions on his rather narrow rack.
Once the kiss broke due to the need for air, he took his time looking down at her, finding it impossible not to smile. It had been too long since he’d had a bounty in his rack - the last time Laura had been lying here sick not withstanding - and she made for a very beautiful one, especially with her lips swollen from his kisses, a light blush colouring her cheeks, her eyes shining with lust staring straight back at him.
“Not fair. I wasn’t done with you yet,” she complained, although it sounded very token to his ears.
“Later. I want some of that ice cream, too.” He grinned at her while reaching for the spoon to spread some of the rare treat onto her chest, paying special attention to her breasts and nipples, the latter hardening instantly. She seemed to enjoy the coldness on her skin, hummed contently as he started to lick the melting substance off of her. He took his time caressing her with his tongue and lips, relishing the task even more than the taste of the ice cream, nibbling and sucking at her nipples, careful not to leave marks - especially not in places where they could be spotted by anybody else. Judging by the sounds she made, she enjoyed this treatment as much as he had liked her ministrations earlier. She continued to hum, moaned, occasionally voiced a breathy ‘yes’.
Her being an apparently vocal lover came as a pleasant surprise. He couldn’t deny having fantasised about her naked underneath or above him in his rack, on his couch, on his desk, on her desk, on her cot, in a raptor - the list went on, was countably infinite. However, he was aware of the fact that there would be differences between fantasy and reality and thus didn’t expect her to act like his mind had envisioned. So far, reality pretty much beat fantasy, though. After all, there was nothing like the real thing. Nothing like Laura writhing on his sheets, urging him on and begging him to stop at the same time. Nothing like experiencing her with all his senses. Nothing like playfully dipping his tongue into her navel to not waste even a drop of liquefied ice cream and making her giggle in the process.
From the first time he had been witness to one of her giggle attacks, he had thought that laughing suited her, had made it his secret mission to make her at least smile regularly. All these moments paled in comparison to feeling her naked form giggle against his own. Whoever considered sex a serious affair was misguided and to be pitied as he missed out on a lot of fun in life.
As he relished the joyfulness bubbling out of the woman beneath him, he contemplated how much more fun he dared have, if it was worth risking staining his sheets or if it would be better to play it safer. He had just finished thinking the question when he mentally slapped himself on the forehead, spooned some ice cream with two fingers and pushed them between her labia. The shriek that interrupted the giggles told him that the move had been unexpected, the way her expression morphed from shock to a mischievous smile while she spread her legs further for him said that it wasn’t an unwelcome one. If there had been any doubt left in him about her knowing what she wanted, it would have been vaporised right now. Laura definitely wasn’t a shy lover as she had proven earlier when she had spoon-fed him and used some purposely-spilled ice cream as an excuse to undress him - a bold tactical manoeuvre he had copied without shame. Good tactics deserved to be repeated after all.
Yes, she absolutely was his kind of woman. If he weren’t busy with his tongue, he might have snorted or shaken his head in slight disbelief. When they had first met, he couldn’t have gotten rid of her fast enough; now he couldn’t get close enough to her for long enough. At some point, he should thank fate for putting this woman in his path and forcing him to deal with her for longer than five minutes and a handshake. Happiness truly could be found in the most unexpected places. Granted, between the legs of a beautiful woman was not an unlikely place for a soldier to find joy; the identity of the woman whose clitoris he was currently sucking was the real surprise - at least compared to where they had started, in light of recent times not so much.
Holding her rocking hips in place, he licked, suckled, scratched and nipped more insistently by the minute. The ice cream had long been cleared away, leaving behind a flavour that was just her. Right now, he couldn’t be bothered to decide which one he liked best and he didn’t think he ever could. Not that it matter. What did matter, though, was her writhing increasing, her threatening him with bodily harm should he not make her come - quote - right frakking now - unquote. Dirty talk had never been more adorable, but he better never let her know that if he wanted a repeat performance.
After another few minutes of sweet torture, he gave in to her pleas, pushed her over the edge into the sea of orgasmic fulfilment. The loud moan that accompanied her inner walls pulsating around his fingers rapidly made his cock twitch. For quite a while, he had managed to ignore his pressing need, had concentrated on the woman in his bed, in his arms, on giving her pleasure, on imprinting her reactions into his memory for later usage during similar occasions and as entertainment during boring, seemingly endless meetings with people other than her. Watching her orgasm, however, pushed his arousal to the forefront of his mind.
Judging by the foot stroking his erection lazily, Laura hadn’t forgotten about his pleasure despite just having gotten some satisfaction. He groaned at the caress, his eyes shooting up to hers, finding them twinkling mischievously.
“May I take care of this now, Admiral?” she asked with a quiet politeness that defied not only their location and state of undress but also her having moaned his name passionately only a few minutes earlier. Her skills were astonishing, almost made him wonder how much practice she had had before the colonies had gotten nuked, if she had hurried from a frak on her desk to a cabinet meeting looking all prim and proper, giving away nothing of what had happened only a short time earlier. But only almost. The fact that she had used his rank while being naked in his rack had been given a higher priority by his mind as it created a connection between the title spoken by her with that particular voice and her looking nicely frakked. As if she could read his thoughts, her lips curled into a smirk. Devious woman. She knew what she was doing and would put his ability to keep a straight face to a thorough test soon. He could already see himself getting hard in public thanks to her. Damned woman.
“Permission granted, Madame President,” he said, mirroring her level of officiality while wrapping her title into a tone of intimacy. Her eyes narrowed, but she remained quiet, only raised an eyebrow to acknowledge his successful volley. He had gotten her back alright. However, that didn’t equal him having the upper hand in the current situation - even though he was physically still on top, at least kind of as he kneeled between her legs. From one moment to the next, she moved her lovely behind from the sheet onto his lap, wrapped her legs around his torso, rubbed her wet flesh against his erection.
“Laura,” he groaned, protracting the last vowel.
“Yes, Bill?” She grinned, pushed herself up with her arms behind her then reached for his shoulder with one hand to pull herself into a sitting position on his lap, coming face to face with him.
Although his knees complained about the added weight resting on them, he buried his hands in her hair and leaned in to kiss her deeply. Lips melting, tongues dancing - as much as he enjoyed it, some repositioning was necessary before a night spent together in this rack would once again involve Cottle. So he reluctantly tore his lips from hers, guided her up and shifted until he sat rather comfortably against the wall. Laura moved to straddle him again, slowly sinking down on his erection in the process.
For a moment, they remained motionless, eyes locked, relishing the feeling of being joined for the first time. Tenderly, she caressed his face in a way that made him actually feel handsome for the first time in decades. He had no illusions about his looks, his age, knew he didn’t fit the requirements for common beauty, had accepted it and moved on; thus her emotion-laden gaze surprised him, even more so than the kiss full of affection that followed shortly after. He wasn’t quite sure what this stunning redhead who could have her choice among many men and women - including some of his pilots - saw in him, why she had chosen him instead of a younger model with less baggage, but he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t complain, was just happy she had regardless of her motives.
Continuing to stroke his lips with hers, occasionally letting her tongue join in, she started to move her hips.
The position he had manoeuvred them into didn’t allow for much movement for him to meet her stroke for stroke. Involuntarily, he found himself at her mercy by his own fault, could ‘only’ hold onto her waist, cup her buttocks or play with her breasts. For the time being, he opted for the last two: kneaded her behind with his fingers, treated her chest - which he had chosen over her lips - to ministrations of his lips, teeth and tongue.
Fortunately, she obviously had no intention of hanging him out to dry as her motions accelerated, her inner muscles squeezing his member purposefully. Even though she had to do most of the work, the position proved to be a most enjoyable one for her. By her expression, he could watch her pleasure building along with his. As he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could hold out, though, he slid a hand to her front between them to stroke her clitoris.
The idea proved to be a good one for, a few moments later, he felt his orgasm rolling over him. Groaning loudly, he tried to concentrate on stimulating her to a second peak. His efforts turned out to be successful shortly after. She sagged against him, snuggled close, breathed heavily against his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders, he held her close while they both basked in the tingling highs that ruled over their bodies.
Being comfortable, they stayed like that for way past the time when their heart beats had evened out again. It was Laura who initiated the shift into a horizontal position, pulling him down with her under the cover, where she cuddled up to him once more.
While his hands lovingly roamed her naked body with a touch that communicated love not lust, his eyes roamed his quarters, spotting the disarray dominated by the pieces of clothes they had dropped and thrown somewhere without care earlier as well as the bowl of ice cream, ice cream that was completely melted by now. However, that was no reason to spurn the remains.
He reached for the bowl, and once it was within her range, she took it from him, offered him the spoon. A spoonful for her, a spoonful for him, they ate the last of their vespertine treat. Eventually, she put the spoon away and cleaned the bowl with her finger, not letting any of this treat go to waste, sharing with him even that way. He closed his lips around her finger, sucked it clean.
“Tastes even better.”
She smiled, contently, happily and somehow suggestively. “Absolutely.”
He’d take a combination of a few hours off, ice cream and Laura anytime, but yes, the naked, doctor-free version was definitely his favourite.
= End =