And Do They Ever (1/1)
Title: And Do They Ever
Part: 1 of 1
Author: ninamazing, or Nina
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Slings and Arrows
Word Count: 339
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None. Our heroines like sex.
Characters: Ellen Tigh/Ellen Fanshaw
Excerpt: "That's it!" says Fanshaw, and in her excitement she scrapes her hand across the lace of Tigh's cleavage as she points. "That's it exactly. Er, sorry."
Author's Note: Written for (and originally posted at) bsg-pornbattle #3: Porntober. FRAK YEAH! Prompt: I'm sorry for caring.
"And do they ever say they're sorry?"
Ellen Fanshaw says this line as if it is an expensive accessory, it too designed and arranged to match the Hermès scarf and the extra-long cigarette perched between her fingers. When she gestures with that hand, her bracelets jangle.
"I know what you mean," says the woman who's taken her name and given her an attitude, and her legs brush her fellow Ellen's as she moves.
"Hours and hours of rehearsal," the actress goes on. "Look, I know Maria says he's sticking to the rules and everything, but Maria's not the one who's trussed up in a fucking corset all day! You know? I'm not seventeen anymore, and I don't get to come to work in sweatpants like the crew. And then we're required to get our bodies to perform - I hate to speak for just the actors, but if someone could have a little consideration ...." She drops her cigarette into an ashtray beside the couch; an indignant punctuation.
"I know," says Ellen Tigh, soothingly. "I know." She smiles like she's bitten into a peach. "It's a thankless job, taking care of people."
"That's it!" says Fanshaw, and in her excitement she scrapes her hand across the lace of Tigh's cleavage as she points. "That's it exactly. Er, sorry."
"I was going to say," says Ellen, catching Ellen's hand - neither Ellen balks at the vista of newly exposed skin beneath her bra - "that your body performs just fine." Tigh leans in close, bringing that saffron-and-dahlia scent with her, and Fanshaw opens her mouth against those peach lips and sinks in.
Her bracelets dangle against the other Ellen's nipples, and she shivers; she drags the actress's hand down to cover herself. Fanshaw's fingers are already warm when she kneads Tigh's breast with gentle authority.
"You're so good to me," she murmurs. In answer Tigh closes her teeth briefly around Ellen's lip, making her gasp. Ellen shifts against her, heated, and Tigh's lean legs wrap around her like a promise.
Part: 1 of 1
Author: ninamazing, or Nina
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica/Slings and Arrows
Word Count: 339
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None. Our heroines like sex.
Characters: Ellen Tigh/Ellen Fanshaw
Excerpt: "That's it!" says Fanshaw, and in her excitement she scrapes her hand across the lace of Tigh's cleavage as she points. "That's it exactly. Er, sorry."
Author's Note: Written for (and originally posted at) bsg-pornbattle #3: Porntober. FRAK YEAH! Prompt: I'm sorry for caring.
"And do they ever say they're sorry?"
Ellen Fanshaw says this line as if it is an expensive accessory, it too designed and arranged to match the Hermès scarf and the extra-long cigarette perched between her fingers. When she gestures with that hand, her bracelets jangle.
"I know what you mean," says the woman who's taken her name and given her an attitude, and her legs brush her fellow Ellen's as she moves.
"Hours and hours of rehearsal," the actress goes on. "Look, I know Maria says he's sticking to the rules and everything, but Maria's not the one who's trussed up in a fucking corset all day! You know? I'm not seventeen anymore, and I don't get to come to work in sweatpants like the crew. And then we're required to get our bodies to perform - I hate to speak for just the actors, but if someone could have a little consideration ...." She drops her cigarette into an ashtray beside the couch; an indignant punctuation.
"I know," says Ellen Tigh, soothingly. "I know." She smiles like she's bitten into a peach. "It's a thankless job, taking care of people."
"That's it!" says Fanshaw, and in her excitement she scrapes her hand across the lace of Tigh's cleavage as she points. "That's it exactly. Er, sorry."
"I was going to say," says Ellen, catching Ellen's hand - neither Ellen balks at the vista of newly exposed skin beneath her bra - "that your body performs just fine." Tigh leans in close, bringing that saffron-and-dahlia scent with her, and Fanshaw opens her mouth against those peach lips and sinks in.
Her bracelets dangle against the other Ellen's nipples, and she shivers; she drags the actress's hand down to cover herself. Fanshaw's fingers are already warm when she kneads Tigh's breast with gentle authority.
"You're so good to me," she murmurs. In answer Tigh closes her teeth briefly around Ellen's lip, making her gasp. Ellen shifts against her, heated, and Tigh's lean legs wrap around her like a promise.