Fic: BSG: puttin' on the Ritz
Title: puttin' on the Ritz
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Rating: R
A/N: This is for my fellow K/L girls who requested Kara/Lee smut that took place in the bathroom of the Ritz-Carlton. Huge hugs to you: eugis, rayruz sci_fi_shipper, stripes13, thegreenkitty, thrace_adama, & workerbee73! (Also, if you're new to my flist, I promise I do more with my Livejournal than just write porn. *_* Just maybe not this week.)
Disclaimers: This isn't for profit, just for fun! All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a song, which I also had nothing to do with.
It was Lee's idea to have dinner in the Ritz-Carlton's lavish restaurant, but it was Kara's idea to fuck Lee in the bathroom around the corner, her long blue dress hitched up around her waist, her legs wrapped around him, the points of her stilettos digging into his ass. He doesn't know if she locked the door when she dragged him in here-- hell, he doesn't even know if the damn door even has a lock-- but as soon as her hand had slipped into his trousers, he'd stopped caring about either of those things.
He should have known this would happen. Kara had acquiesced all too quickly to his request to have their anniversary dinner here, and when Kara doesn't put up a fight, he should know after this many years that she's got something up her sleeve, even when the dress she's wearing doesn't have any. When she had excused herself from the table, he hadn't even bothered to wait for the text message, he'd just followed her out into the hall, the tiny part of him that still cares about propriety hoping that maybe this was not actually going to be an exercise in spending the remainder of the evening avoiding the disapproving glares of other restaurant patrons who happened to have entered the bathroom at an inopportune moment.
But after ten years, even Kara is somewhat predictable in her unpredictability, and when her hand had reached out to grab his tie and pull him into the washroom, he hadn't been all that surprised. He'd made some obligatory comment about appropriate public behavior, even glanced around to make sure the beautifully decorated bathroom was devoid of other guests, but all the while he was pushing at her dress, lifting her up onto the counter, helping her with the clasp of his trousers, not even remotely invested in arguing the point. He's practically made a career out of giving Kara whatever she wants, and if she wants hot fast sex in the bathroom of one of the swankiest hotels in downtown Atlanta, well, she'll get it, and at this very moment, as he presses into her, the smooth taut heat of her pulling him inexorably toward orgasm, he can't imagine why he'd want to be anywhere else.
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Rating: R
A/N: This is for my fellow K/L girls who requested Kara/Lee smut that took place in the bathroom of the Ritz-Carlton. Huge hugs to you: eugis, rayruz sci_fi_shipper, stripes13, thegreenkitty, thrace_adama, & workerbee73! (Also, if you're new to my flist, I promise I do more with my Livejournal than just write porn. *_* Just maybe not this week.)
Disclaimers: This isn't for profit, just for fun! All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a song, which I also had nothing to do with.
It was Lee's idea to have dinner in the Ritz-Carlton's lavish restaurant, but it was Kara's idea to fuck Lee in the bathroom around the corner, her long blue dress hitched up around her waist, her legs wrapped around him, the points of her stilettos digging into his ass. He doesn't know if she locked the door when she dragged him in here-- hell, he doesn't even know if the damn door even has a lock-- but as soon as her hand had slipped into his trousers, he'd stopped caring about either of those things.
He should have known this would happen. Kara had acquiesced all too quickly to his request to have their anniversary dinner here, and when Kara doesn't put up a fight, he should know after this many years that she's got something up her sleeve, even when the dress she's wearing doesn't have any. When she had excused herself from the table, he hadn't even bothered to wait for the text message, he'd just followed her out into the hall, the tiny part of him that still cares about propriety hoping that maybe this was not actually going to be an exercise in spending the remainder of the evening avoiding the disapproving glares of other restaurant patrons who happened to have entered the bathroom at an inopportune moment.
But after ten years, even Kara is somewhat predictable in her unpredictability, and when her hand had reached out to grab his tie and pull him into the washroom, he hadn't been all that surprised. He'd made some obligatory comment about appropriate public behavior, even glanced around to make sure the beautifully decorated bathroom was devoid of other guests, but all the while he was pushing at her dress, lifting her up onto the counter, helping her with the clasp of his trousers, not even remotely invested in arguing the point. He's practically made a career out of giving Kara whatever she wants, and if she wants hot fast sex in the bathroom of one of the swankiest hotels in downtown Atlanta, well, she'll get it, and at this very moment, as he presses into her, the smooth taut heat of her pulling him inexorably toward orgasm, he can't imagine why he'd want to be anywhere else.