~BSG: Sleight of Hand
His quarters had become their quarters.
William Adama sat at his desk, pretending to write in the ship’s log. But his eyes weren’t on the page. They were on her. He was mesmerized.
It was a familiar routine. Blazer hung on a chair, shoes toed off and abandoned, shirt pulled from the waistline of her skirt, bra unhooked, loosened and removed-without ever unbuttoning her blouse. He found the ritual fascinating.
Of course, she knew his eyes were on her. He was her motivation for the nightly performance.
Finally, he couldn’t resist. “Let me know if you ever need any help with that, Madame President,” he said one evening. “I’m quite good at taking them off.” His eyes quickly returned to the ship’s log before she turned.
She smiled and turned. “Really? I didn’t know you wore a bra.” A snort escaped her.
His eyes met hers. “I don’t, but I’m an expert at taking them off,” he boasted. “Just let me know.”
“I will, Admiral. The next time, I definitely will.”
He smiled.
~*~
Blazer hung on a chair, shoes toed off and abandoned, shirt pulled from the waistline of her skirt…she paused.
William Adama sat at his desk, pretending to write in the ship’s log. But his eyes weren’t on the page. They were on her. He was mesmerized.
She turned and faced him. “Admiral, I was wondering if you might help me with my bra.” Her voice was coy, clever, and definitely sexy.
“It would be my pleasure, Madame President.” He flipped the log book closed, rose from the chair and casually walked over to where she stood. “Front loader or back?”
The technique he used would depend on they type of bra she was wearing. The front loader had a connector that would require a squeeze and a slide. It was fairly easy to do with one hand. The back loader-consisting of eyes and hooks-was a bit more difficult. But nothing was impossible. With his thumb and forefinger, he’d grasp, twist and then slide.
The most important thing to remember with a back loading bra was the back strap tension. If there was too much tension, there was the danger of back snap-the back strap snapping to the side, causing injury. This was to be avoided at all costs; it tended to ruin the mood.
William Adama was definitely in the mood.
She snorted. “WHAT?”
It took great effort to suppress his laughter. “The technique is different,” he said simply, his voice suave, controlled, and definitely sexy.
“Back,” she laughed.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Then he began intimately nuzzling her neck.
“What are you doing?” she giggled. “That tickles.”
“Distracting you,” he mumbled in-between soft, sensual kisses.
His hand slid under her blouse, his fingertips caressing her spine. It sent shivers up and down her back. He felt for the closure. Two hooks were easy; three or more, much more difficult. One…two…perfect. His hand moved in. Grasp, twist, slide… And he guided the hooks gently to the side. No back snap. It took less than half a second. A grin spread across his lips as his hand slid around her torso to the front. Gently he squeezed her breast, his forefinger and his thumb rolling her nipple to attention.
She inhaled sharply at his touch.
“Can I help you get out of anything else, Madame President,” he rasped in her ear.
Laura was sure; the Admiral was trying to kill her.
~finis~
William Adama sat at his desk, pretending to write in the ship’s log. But his eyes weren’t on the page. They were on her. He was mesmerized.
It was a familiar routine. Blazer hung on a chair, shoes toed off and abandoned, shirt pulled from the waistline of her skirt, bra unhooked, loosened and removed-without ever unbuttoning her blouse. He found the ritual fascinating.
Of course, she knew his eyes were on her. He was her motivation for the nightly performance.
Finally, he couldn’t resist. “Let me know if you ever need any help with that, Madame President,” he said one evening. “I’m quite good at taking them off.” His eyes quickly returned to the ship’s log before she turned.
She smiled and turned. “Really? I didn’t know you wore a bra.” A snort escaped her.
His eyes met hers. “I don’t, but I’m an expert at taking them off,” he boasted. “Just let me know.”
“I will, Admiral. The next time, I definitely will.”
He smiled.
~*~
Blazer hung on a chair, shoes toed off and abandoned, shirt pulled from the waistline of her skirt…she paused.
William Adama sat at his desk, pretending to write in the ship’s log. But his eyes weren’t on the page. They were on her. He was mesmerized.
She turned and faced him. “Admiral, I was wondering if you might help me with my bra.” Her voice was coy, clever, and definitely sexy.
“It would be my pleasure, Madame President.” He flipped the log book closed, rose from the chair and casually walked over to where she stood. “Front loader or back?”
The technique he used would depend on they type of bra she was wearing. The front loader had a connector that would require a squeeze and a slide. It was fairly easy to do with one hand. The back loader-consisting of eyes and hooks-was a bit more difficult. But nothing was impossible. With his thumb and forefinger, he’d grasp, twist and then slide.
The most important thing to remember with a back loading bra was the back strap tension. If there was too much tension, there was the danger of back snap-the back strap snapping to the side, causing injury. This was to be avoided at all costs; it tended to ruin the mood.
William Adama was definitely in the mood.
She snorted. “WHAT?”
It took great effort to suppress his laughter. “The technique is different,” he said simply, his voice suave, controlled, and definitely sexy.
“Back,” she laughed.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Then he began intimately nuzzling her neck.
“What are you doing?” she giggled. “That tickles.”
“Distracting you,” he mumbled in-between soft, sensual kisses.
His hand slid under her blouse, his fingertips caressing her spine. It sent shivers up and down her back. He felt for the closure. Two hooks were easy; three or more, much more difficult. One…two…perfect. His hand moved in. Grasp, twist, slide… And he guided the hooks gently to the side. No back snap. It took less than half a second. A grin spread across his lips as his hand slid around her torso to the front. Gently he squeezed her breast, his forefinger and his thumb rolling her nipple to attention.
She inhaled sharply at his touch.
“Can I help you get out of anything else, Madame President,” he rasped in her ear.
Laura was sure; the Admiral was trying to kill her.
~finis~