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Nov. 24th, 2006 09:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cybermathwitchI know I should have this over in my fic journal, but I'm lazy and hate signing in and out of LJ names on a laptop. (Am borrowing my mom's. Please witness that I don't plan on getting my own anytime soon.)
So, I've been working on snippets to work into my NaNo, mostly to up my word count. And because I can't get them to talk to me without prompts. I found the list on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ishtaritu's LJ, which may or may not be flocked, I'm brain dead right now, but if it is, I'll try and get ya'll the origin/source of the list. It's like Smut69 or somesuch.
There's porny stuff here. Y'all have been warned. No admittance under 17, blah-dee-blah-dee-blah.
For the love of all the gods (especially Kalliope and Erato) please feedback me. Please?
1. moan
Kara can't help moaning when she has really good sex. The only way that she can even come close is if she has something she can bite down on. When she's had to be quiet she's usually either set her teeth in her partner's shoulder, or occasionally her own forearm when the former hasn't been practical.
There are several occasions when it's not practical. For instance, when she's with someone that she's never discussed pain with. She doesn't mind a little bit of pain with her sex - and in some cases, even thinks it's necessary. But she knows and can respect - usually - that not everyone feels the same way.
Other times, it just seems wrong to set her teeth into someone else. It's a primal thing, as well as the practical effects of keeping her quiet. She's marking her territory. Saying that this man belongs to her, in a way. She doesn't want to claim just anyone. At any given time, Zak carried a mark she'd made, both because the walls in the base barracks were terribly thin, and also because she liked seeing them there. He did too, and she usually had her own marks to show (or not) when she chose.
She never marked Sam. At first, on Caprica, she didn't know him well enough to want to claim him like that. When she brought him back to Galactica, and later New Caprica, it felt wrong to her, somehow. Her left arm had an almost permanent bruise from where she'd tried to silence herself. The walls of their tent were even thinner than the barracks.
That, and she was never quite sure who's name it was she would moan.
2. writhe
She writhes underneath him, and it's one of the sexiest things Lee's ever felt. The way that her back arches up to push her breast into his hand, the way that her leg twists against him when he's got one of his hands cuffed around her ankle. He trails light fingers down her stomach and watches the muscles jump in response.
Sex with Kara is beyond his expectations, and he had plenty. They'd built up the sexual tension for years - literally - and it was bound to be explosive when they finally gave in. He'd expected power, passion, even anger and pain- because they can't seem to escape those feelings when they deal with each other- but he'd never expected to be able to use the word exquisite. But he can.
Her writhing turns to more deliberate motions and she's rising up and pushing him back and down so that she's on top. Now it's her turn to make him writhe. He's pretty sure he'll enjoy it just as much.
3. satin
The blue dress she wears to the Colonial day dance is the first satin he's been able to touch in months. Since the end of the world, actually. One of the things Lee realizes he's never appropriately appreciated is the feel of satin stretched over a woman's body. Add to that that this is Kara's body he's talking about, and Lee is a very happy boy. In some ways, he's catapulted back to his first prom his junior year in high school, all awkwardness and shy anticipation. Except that they're adults, and part of the anticipation isn't the hope of stealing kisses, but rather a whole lot more.
The satin makes it easier for her to slide right out of his hands, he realizes later when the newly elected Vice President cuts in. He can't quite keep a grip on her, she's moving away and then he's watching her go - watching the play of light off of fabric and riotous blonde hair. He tries a few minutes later to catch another glimpse of her, so he can maybe wind his way back over to her, but she's nowhere to be seen.
4. lube
"It's the end of the world, and no one thought to bring any lube," Hot Dog muttered to himself as he stomped through the corridors on his way back to the bunkroom. He'd spent most of the morning hunting through lockers, shower kits, and talking to every black market contact he had. No one had anything that resembled lubricant on the whole damn ship. He wondered idly, in between trying to think of how to break the news to Kat, what exactly Tank and Crashdown had done for all those months they were together before Crash died. "No godsdamned lube anywhere..." he mumbled again.
"Did you ever think of trying soap?" came an irritated female voice, and Hot Dog looked up to see his CAG sitting kicked back in the Pilot's rec room, feet propped up on the table, and wearing a trademark scowl. When he blinked at her she arched an eyebrow. "Gods, be a little creative sometimes Costanza."
He stood there for just a moment dumb-founded, before continuing down the hall in a much brighter mood. Time to go ask Kat if she wanted to take a shower.
5. ring
Zak's ring is the only ring she'll ever wear. It's an unspoken but understood agreement fact. Sam doesn't quite understand this, when he attempts to give her a ring to commemorate their marriage. When she refuses, he first assumes that it's because it's really a rather bad job. The only metal they have access to is scrap, and the person he found to melt the metal down and reform it into a band isn't the greatest jeweler in the universe - (isn't a jeweler at all, actually) - and his assumption of that offends her quite a bit.
She realizes a few minutes after he's stormed out of the tent that she's never bothered to explain to him about Zak, and Lee, and the Adamas and herself. He's walking a minefield he actually doesn't even know is there. It's not fair, she knows that, and she deliberates briefly trying to explain it all to him. Tell him about her past and the ring she does wear as both a reminder and a punishment.
But when he comes back later, she's slipped the simple silver band onto her chain with her dog tags and hidden them both out of sight and doesn't tell him anything at all. She says she's sorry, that it's not the quality of the gift, but that she hates wearing rings and tattoos would be more permanent anyway. what does he think about tattoos instead?
6. restraints
Kara pulls at the restraints and wonders, not for the first time, why she ever agreed to this. Perhaps it was because it was such a surprising request - never in a million years would she have imagined herself doing something like this with Lee. Uptight, by the book, by the rules Lee, who was never the adventurous one in school. Of course, they'd never been lovers when they were in school, so she supposes she wouldn't really know.
She's tied to her rack in the otherwise empty officer's bunk room, and she does know Lee well enough to know that even though he's nowhere to be seen at the moment that he's not going to let anyone else walk in on her. But she is getting sick of waiting on him to come back.
He's raised up over her as he thrusts inside of her, his hands braceleted around her wrists like restraints and pinning her back down against the bunk. It hurts, and she's pretty sure - if she were really thinking all that clearly about it, which she's really not - that she's going to have bruises there tomorrow. But right now it's the pain is just rolling into all the other sensations and it just feels good.
7. feather
In a concerted effort to drive Lee crazy, Kara starts an all out assault on his senses.
It's after the rather disasterous almost one night stand they have, and even though she's the one that turns around and leaves, a part of her feels like he deserves to be punished for his part in it. After all, if he hadn't said anything, hadn't tried to slow her down, they would've just frakked and gotten it out of their systems, right? So she blames him because it's too easy to just blame herself and she begins doing everything in her power to frustrate the hell out of him.
If part of her is hoping that he'll get worked up to the point where he just throws her up against a wall and fraks her anyway, well, everybody wins, right?
She feathers her fingers with just a hint of her nails along the small of his back as he passes by her on the way to change, taking advantage of how low the his towel always rides on his hips.
She makes sure that he gets an eyeful every time she changes in the bunkroom, and that she just happens to be on the way too or from the shower everyday at the same time he is.
She surreptitiously sneaks his tanks out of his locker and sleeps in them before returning them so that he's surrounded by her scent all day long.
She makes sure to snag his coffee cup when they're in the mess so that he'll have to drink after her and taste her on the rim of his mug.
She whispers things in his ear as she passes by him in the hall, pitching her voice low enough that he can never be quite sure what he's just heard.
8. leather
Flight suits are made of unyielding leather and metal. They're unforgivingly hot, constrictive, and occasionally claustrophobic. They're what keep pilots alive out in space, keep them from freezing to death or dying of compression or decompression or from getting bloody scratches all over when a cockpit window gets blown in by a Cylon Raider.
They've saved Kara's life in another way today. If the leather had been just a little more flexible, a little more giving, Lee might have actually managed to get them her suit off of her arms and down her legs enough for him to get inside of her. If it had been just a little bit looser, he might have actually gotten inside to her skin and taken her over the edge. She would've let him. The Chief would've caught them at a lot more than pulling at buckles and while he probably wouldn't have said anything (because how many times had they caught him and Boomer doing the same thing, really?) she and Lee would've crossed that last line and that would've been the end of her life as she'd known it.
But the leather is unyielding, and Kara's damn grateful.
9. massage
One of her biggest regrets about leaving Lee is that Sam gives a crappy shitty massage. It sometimes strikes her as funny that she thinks of coming down to New Caprica as "leaving Lee" not "leaving Galactica" or "leaving the military". Even though Lee hasn't been on the Galactica for awhile now. She'll never admit it to anyone else (and certainly not to her husband) but what pushed her over the edge wasn't Sam wanting to go, or Baltar decomissioning the whole bloody lot of them. She could've fought the decomissioning. She really didn't give a good gods damn where Sam wanted to be. It wasn't even the Admiral encouraging her to go - though she's pretty sure that Sam had spoken to him and that rankles her just a bit.
No, it was the fight she had with Lee. The one where he told her she'd always be a frak-up, that they didn't need her up there and there was no more room for heroics. That the war was over and she should just go settle down on the planet with her true love. Never mind the fact that he'd moved on himself and didn't need her for anything anymore. Never mind that what they'd just done should never have happened and it might have been the best thing if they'd just forgotten about it entirely. But he'd told her to leave, and the time when she'd have disobeyed a direct order from her CAG was past. He wasn't even her CAG anymore. So she left him. Left them all.
And one of her biggest regrets is still the massages.
10. candle wax
She's kneeling in the temple three days after the accident when she flashes back on the dream. Part of one, anyway. Suddenly, she's back in the past, in a much larger, more elaborate temple on some planet somewhere, dressed in nothing but a mask, waiting. The smell of the candle wax and the heat of the flame is what throws her back into the sensory memory, and she remembers what it felt like to lie there, waiting.
The candle before her is a tall pillar, and she dips the tip of a finger into the molten wax in a sort of slow motion. She remembers feeling drops of hot wax falling from the ceiling where a chandelier hangs onto her naked flesh as she lay patient and nervous for a god to arrive. For a man pretending to be a god, for a man possessed by the god, or guided by him, Dionysus, she thinks, but she's not entirely sure. She smells flowers and herbs, feels stone under her back and against her heels. The time is passing slowly as she's waiting, waiting for him to arrive.
When she he finally does, she knows, she'll never be the same again.
Then she's back in the temple on Galactica, looking at the candle wax dried on her fingertip and wondering if she's losing her mind.
11. ice
There's ice in her blood when she thinks about what she's just done. She sits against the wall and she can feel it, tiny crystals hardening, sharpening, cutting into her skin from the inside out. She's going to freeze all the way through before this is over, and she wishes she'd hurry up and just die.
He's lying on the floor, bleeding out. She can see the pool of blood growing larger by the second - each second that seems interminably long.
My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault...
Over and over again in her head. Her fault he's dying, her fault Zak's dead. She's killing the Adamas off one by one, this time with her own hand. At the rate she's going, she can suddenly see herself standing over the Old Man with her hands wrapped around his neck, each victim getting closer, more personal, more deliberate.
She shakes her head to try to clear the images, the nightmares too close to the surface of her mind. They've always been too close, too vivid, too real for her to just disregard. Her mother told her it was because she was cursed. Her father had told her it was because she was special, but look how all that turned out for him in the end.
Leoben tells her she's special too. That's just it's own kind of creepy. But she's holding a gun in her hand, the one she's just used to shoot Lee, and she wonders not for the first time if it wouldn't be better to just turn it on herself. So easy. So quick. Then over.
Unfortunately the ice has spread from her blood and she's too numb to move.
12. oil
She manages to avoid seeing Lee for the first three weeks they're back on Galactica. She doesn't want anything to do with him, and since he hasn't made an effort to seek her out, she figures he doesn't want anything to do with her, either. It suits her just fine. That's what she tells herself, anyway.
The last time they'd talked had been disconcerting. He'd not been the man she'd known. Command had changed him, not for the better or for the worse, really. But different. He was always changing on her, that was true, but this time had been different. Part of it, she realized belatedly, had been his smell. A primal signal, a subliminal, subconcious sign, but one that had her instincts screaming at her. She's always been one to rely more on her hindbrain than her intellect in dangerous situations, and it's kicking into overdrive.
Lee's always, for as long as she's known him, smelled like flying. Oil and leather and fuel and sweat. From the very first day at the academy, to the day he stepped in front of her cell on the Galactica, whether he was coming off of duty or fresh out of the shower, that smell has always lingered on him, has always attracted and soothed her and told her he was there.
It's gone now. It has been was gone the last time she'd seen him. Replaced by soap and starch and something she can't quite place but smells vaguely female and she wonders wondered if it's it was because he's he was living with Dee now. Well worn, overworked leather has had been replaced by a crisp artificial smell that reminds reminded her rather unpleasantly of the Pegasus and Cain. Which causes caused her to shudder slightly at her memories.
So she's been avoiding him since she's been back because it's too unsettling for her. Everything has changed around her and she just wants to pretend that that little part of things isn't any different.
She's working on the engine of a Viper when a hand reaches over into her space for a tool out of her box. The scent hits her first, like a fist in the gut and she nearly drops the wrench she's holding. Oil, and leather, and fuel, and sweat. The combination that no one else has exactly right or exactly the same. The scent she never thought she'd smell again, and she closes her eyes and just breathes it in.
When she opens them, she sees Lee looking over at her, for the first time since they've been back on the ship. For the first time in a year and 6 months. He's giving her an odd look, but she really doesn't care. It's too soon to talk, they'll only get into a fight about the last time they were together. But somehow, it that doesn't bother her anymore. He's Lee again, and that's more than enough for her.
13. thrust
She can't remember what they're arguing about, but it's something. Lee's yelling and she's yelling and she's mostly yelling nonsense at this point, about him having a stick up his ass and needing to loosen up and get off his high horse - the usual lines she falls back upon on when she's too busy watching him get angry to pay attention to what she's supposed to be angry about.
He says something about her breaking the rules and thinking she can get away with it just because she's good on the stick and she remembers what started this round. An ill-timed comment about an archaic regulation - the frat regs, she thinks, the ones that no one has paid attention to since the worlds ended - including Lee, because there was that almost-time in the bunk room - and he's in just the kind of mood that her standing within ear shot and saying that something doesn't or shouldn't apply to her gets her busted.
"Just stop it, Starbuck," she hears him say, and thinks it's probably a bad sign that he's still using her call sign and not her given name, "you can't keep pushing me like this."
"Why the hell would you think I was trying to push you? Apparently you need an ego check, Apollo," because she can't be the first to call him Lee. His hands grab her upper arms hard enough to bruise (which thrills her just a little) and he slams her back against the bulkhead. Her head rocks backwards hard enough she sees stars.
"You're always trying to push me, Kara," there it is, she thinks with satisfaction, "Some days I think you just want to see what it'll take to push me over the edge." His voice has dropped now, it's quieter and lower and infinitely more dangerous. She meets his eyes and sees that he's no longer really in control, which excites her. "Is that what you want? To push me too far? To see what it is that I'll do to you?"
She's never been one to shrink back from pulling the tiger's tail. "Maybe. Maybe I keep pushing because I don't think that you can go over."
She watches something snap in his mind through his eyes. Then she's feeling his fingers and hands as he's tearing at her clothes and at his own. He keeps her pinned against the wall with is weight while he unfastens the pants of his dress uniform and jerks her sweats down her hips. Then he's flipping her over so she's face first against the wall and is wrenching one of her arms around to pin it against the small of her back. She feels strong wild fingers clench into her hip and then she feels his cock against her ass as he tries to find her entrance. He abandons his grip on her wrist to spread through her folds and finds that she's incredibly hot and wet. He lines up and thrusts into her, and she's pushing back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
It's over quickly, and he backs away even faster. He looks at her with something like horror in his eyes at what he's just done, but she smiles this slow smile and he realizes he's just done exactly what she wanted him to do. That the argument was just a ruse, and a way to make him angry enough with her to forget he's supposed to be the good soldier.
14. breast
He can't stop staring at the curve of her breast. It's showing through the open collar of her uniform jacket, the one she should probably still have buttoned up, but commencement is over and technically so is the school term. She's laughing raucously with one of the newly graduated seniors while they're passing out cigars, and she's such an incredible tomboy that it seems incongrous and wrong somehow that she's got such full and round curves.
But she does, and Lee can't seem to stop staring at them. She's his best friend, his wingman, his study partner and sometimes roommate (because her landlord keeps locking her out of the her apartment) and the last thing he should be doing is fantasizing about what she'll look like when she's sprawled across a bed naked. Something he happens to know she does on a regular basis, because he always ends up hearing all about it in the commissary the following day. They're actually going to get a place together over the summer, because he really doesn't want to go home, and she can't quite make the rising rent on her own and he's going to have to stop thinking about her breasts or he's never going to survive the experience.
She glances over her shoulder and smiles at him, and the movement spreads the fabric just a little bit further apart, giving him that much better a view. He shifts his hips uncomfortably in his chair as his pants become too tight through the crotch.
It's going to be a long summer.
15. throat
Alcohol burns her throat. She doesn't really care, and she knows the nerves will be deadened soon enough, but until then the little bit of pain is a self-inflicted wound she's happy to make. She's on her third, or is it fourth? bottle of the stuff. She should've stopped at two. It's been a long, long time since she's overdone it this badly, and the voice in her head (the one that sounds remarkably like Lee's) is telling her to stop already, for frak's sake, but she won't.
Because Lee's not coming back. No one's coming back. They saw those ships, the basestars that jumped into orbit, and they ran, and she doesn't blame them at all, she just blames herself for not being up there with them. For not being where she belongs, in a Viper, kicking Cylon ass. She's going to try to take all the skin-jobs she can take with her when she goes down in a blaze of glory, because she knows they'll never win down here, not as sick and tired and cold as they are. But she's going to find some weapons, she thinks, and fight them until she can't.
She never sees the syringe that presses against the pulse point on her neck, never feels the chemicals that invade her blood stream and knock her unconcious.
When she wakes up she's far too sober, too weak, and too scared to feel real. Then Leoben walks in and she realizes she's not real anymore.
She's just in hell.
16. taut
She waits to cross the hall into CIC and her nerves are stretched taut. She feels like they're about to break, to snap under the strain and she wonders for the forty-third time where the hell Lee is. If he's alright. She knew from the moment that the Blackbird broke up he wouldn't be coming back to help her with this, that's not the problem. The problem is not knowing if he's made it out alright.
On the one hand, she feels like if he were dead, she's know. Like there'd be a feeling in the pit of her stomach that would tell her yes, he's really gone. The feeling that she hadn't realized she didn't have until after he'd turned back up alive in those first few hours after the attacks. So she's pretty sure that he's still alive out there. Unless he's not and she's not feeling it because really, she's dead too and just hasn't acknowledged that yet. It's a suicide mission after all. Perhaps the Fates are hiding him from her as one last kindness (but when have the Fates ever been kind to her?) before she does this one last thing and her own death.
But if he's not really dead, and she dies, will she ultimately still take him with her, like she was supposed to?
17. supple
His hand traces supple skin that's stretched taut over her growing belly. She's asleep for once, and he has the unique opportunity to look at her without her realizing what he's doing. He knows she's upset about this, and that it's the last thing she's wanted. He knows she resents the hell out of having to carry the child to term, and that she keeps insisting that once it's born she wants nothing to do with it.
He's hoping she'll change her mind. Cottle has already confided in him that she'll likely have to take care of the baby the first few weeks regardless, because they're almost out of formula and can't afford to spare any if there's any other way to nourish the child. Wet nurses are a possibility, but it'll take time to try and track one down, and they won't be able to even get started until after the baby's born and they know for sure the blood type and RH factor.
19. whisper
A word is like a whisper in her ear. A note to end a dream on, to wake up on, to start a whole new story on. There's a whisper in her ear, like someone is calling to her from some kind of a faraway place.
"You have to remember, you have to learn."
"Remember."
"Learn."
Every time, in every life, Lee's breath is a whisper along her skin. When he holds her she's safe, for just a little bit of time, until they turn on each other and her world is uncertain and scary again. And it happens again and again, and she knows that because she's seen that and in the last several /few weeks she's relived that, relived all the memories and all the times and she knows how the story will end. Each time. With anger, and hatred, and betrayal and why the hell should they go through it again and again and again? Why can't they learn the lesson - they're bad for each other - and just stay away from each other.
"You haven't lived it all. You have lives yet to live. You haven't learned your lesson yet, and this time's time is running out."
Each time, she's noticing, it's getting harder. More painful, with larger and larger outward ripples effecting everyone around them. If they fail this time, how much worse will the next time be?
And every night when she's in between, in the fog between awake and a dream, she hears the whisper, reminding her.
25. orgy
The latest batch of the chief's home brew leads to an orgy of sorts on D deck. The triad game devolves rather rapidly into strip-Triad, because Kat's out of credits and socks again, and Helo's evil enough to suggest it as an alternative. With Starbuck still AWOL from the gaming table, and Lee sulking in his office about some latest breech of protocol (and Helo's pretty sure that, as usual, the two instances are somewhat related) the games have been really frakking boring lately.
Sharon shoots him a look just before folding her hand and kicking back to watch the fallout. He shrugs in such a way that says "I'll be good, but you can't blame me for wanting a peek" and she lifts a corner of her mouth in a half-smile. Strip leads to a kind of impromptu truth or dare game, with dares being the order of the evening and taking the place of items of clothing if someone is feeling particularly threatened. Which is how Racetrack ends up in just her briefs, sucking on Kat's nipple while Hot Dog is holding onto her hips to keep her from falling over. (She's had a jar and a half of the strong stuff by then.)
Lee's first thought when he walks into the scene is that they're all a bunch of frakking juveniles, and he really wishes Starbuck was there to talk him into joining in. But she's not, and without her, he can't unwind quite enough to give in.
26. corset
They can still hear the music from the drawing room below them, and as he pulls her towards him and their lips meet in a kiss their bodies sway together in time. His fingers play up and down her back softly, opening them the buttons slowly until he can peel the layer of her dress away from her shoulders and down to reveal a chemise /shift encased by a corset.
He works the heavy silks down over her hips so that they fall to the floor. He turns her around away from him with a hand to her neck and she can feel his other hand ghost along the boning and ties down her sides. She feels his lips and just a hint of teeth at the nape of her neck. She knows it's wrong, he's engaged, she has Costas, but she just doesn't care. Right now all that matters is the feel of his hands on her, his taste on her tongue and his scent in her nostrils. the air around her.
The constrictive garments begin to loosen under his searching fingers, and those fingers begin to play along her bare skin. She can still feel the music pound pounding in her blood and the beat of her heart, which is going faster now as his he rolls one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He pulls her corset apart and away and tosses it to the one side.
"Tell me you want me. Tell me that you want this," he whispers. He pushes himself against her so there's no mistaking how hard he is.
"Don't," she whispers back, breathlessly.
"Don't? Don't what?"
She turns sharply in his arms and grabs hold of his shoulders. "Don't talk. Don't... don't do anything but this," and she raises up on tip toe and presses her mouth to his, becoming the agressor in their little power play.
He tumbles her back onto the bed and starts pulling on her shift. It's unexpected (though not entirely unwelcome) to have a partner that's as active (not to mention demanding and agressive) a participant as he is. It's is a new experience for him. It makes him hotter, more impatient for her. Her shift rips as he tries to wrestle it over her head and she could honestly care less. He's eager for her, and it takes him a few tries to spread her open and guide himself inside of her. Then he's in and she's closing warm and tight - no, hot - around him. Her hips move up to meet his, and it's so different from when he's fraking Lena who just lies there beneath him waiting for it to be over. He's not as careful as he should be, and doesn't last long enough to make sure she comes first. But if the way she's breathing and shaking is any indication, he managed it anyway.
He slumps next to her, tangling their legs so she can't move away from him and takes the opportunity, now that they're at least momentarily sated to drink in the sight of her.
40. virgins
Neither one of them has been a virgin in a very, very long time. Without the alcohol or the anger, though, it feels like they are. They're both virgins again standing in front of their first partner, and they just don't quite know what to do. They can do rage, they can do drunk, they can do illicit all just fine, but coming together sober, calm, and without other ties binding them apart from each other may just be enough to do them in.
He reaches out tentatively for the hem of her tanks, and she slides her fingertips hesitantly into the waistband of his sweats and the sensation of skin against skin is almost too much for either of them to stand. It's never been like this before, it'll never be like this again, and the realization of just what they'll be losing if they frak it all up is almost enough to bring them both to their knees.
His mouth sets itself lightly against hers so that she can feel his breath against her lips and she feels more than hears him whisper a question to her. "Is this ok?"
In response she inhales, then gives herself over and lets go.
53. threesome
It's always a threesome when Kara's with Sam. Or anyone, really. Whether he ever realizes it or not, there's a third person in the bed with them, between them, beside them, separating them like some kind of invisible wall he'll never quite be able to breach. Lee's always there in her mind. When she lets herself go, gives herself over to the sex so that she can come, it's Lee she's picturing moving above her or beneath her or inside of her, not Sam. She learned part of her lesson when she was with Baltar - she doesn't speak during sex anymore - but she wonders sometimes if that was really the lesson she was supposed to have learned. Shouldn't it have been that she can't have Lee, won't have Lee, could never have Lee and that by fantasizing any differently she's just setting herself up for a fall? But no, what she's learned is that she can't mention Lee, can't talk about Lee, can't call out his name and so it's really just better that she has sex silently.
Sam just assumes she's not a screamer.
If only he knew...
So, I've been working on snippets to work into my NaNo, mostly to up my word count. And because I can't get them to talk to me without prompts. I found the list on
ishtaritu's LJ, which may or may not be flocked, I'm brain dead right now, but if it is, I'll try and get ya'll the origin/source of the list. It's like Smut69 or somesuch.There's porny stuff here. Y'all have been warned. No admittance under 17, blah-dee-blah-dee-blah.
For the love of all the gods (especially Kalliope and Erato) please feedback me. Please?
1. moan
Kara can't help moaning when she has really good sex. The only way that she can even come close is if she has something she can bite down on. When she's had to be quiet she's usually either set her teeth in her partner's shoulder, or occasionally her own forearm when the former hasn't been practical.
There are several occasions when it's not practical. For instance, when she's with someone that she's never discussed pain with. She doesn't mind a little bit of pain with her sex - and in some cases, even thinks it's necessary. But she knows and can respect - usually - that not everyone feels the same way.
Other times, it just seems wrong to set her teeth into someone else. It's a primal thing, as well as the practical effects of keeping her quiet. She's marking her territory. Saying that this man belongs to her, in a way. She doesn't want to claim just anyone. At any given time, Zak carried a mark she'd made, both because the walls in the base barracks were terribly thin, and also because she liked seeing them there. He did too, and she usually had her own marks to show (or not) when she chose.
She never marked Sam. At first, on Caprica, she didn't know him well enough to want to claim him like that. When she brought him back to Galactica, and later New Caprica, it felt wrong to her, somehow. Her left arm had an almost permanent bruise from where she'd tried to silence herself. The walls of their tent were even thinner than the barracks.
That, and she was never quite sure who's name it was she would moan.
2. writhe
She writhes underneath him, and it's one of the sexiest things Lee's ever felt. The way that her back arches up to push her breast into his hand, the way that her leg twists against him when he's got one of his hands cuffed around her ankle. He trails light fingers down her stomach and watches the muscles jump in response.
Sex with Kara is beyond his expectations, and he had plenty. They'd built up the sexual tension for years - literally - and it was bound to be explosive when they finally gave in. He'd expected power, passion, even anger and pain- because they can't seem to escape those feelings when they deal with each other- but he'd never expected to be able to use the word exquisite. But he can.
Her writhing turns to more deliberate motions and she's rising up and pushing him back and down so that she's on top. Now it's her turn to make him writhe. He's pretty sure he'll enjoy it just as much.
3. satin
The blue dress she wears to the Colonial day dance is the first satin he's been able to touch in months. Since the end of the world, actually. One of the things Lee realizes he's never appropriately appreciated is the feel of satin stretched over a woman's body. Add to that that this is Kara's body he's talking about, and Lee is a very happy boy. In some ways, he's catapulted back to his first prom his junior year in high school, all awkwardness and shy anticipation. Except that they're adults, and part of the anticipation isn't the hope of stealing kisses, but rather a whole lot more.
The satin makes it easier for her to slide right out of his hands, he realizes later when the newly elected Vice President cuts in. He can't quite keep a grip on her, she's moving away and then he's watching her go - watching the play of light off of fabric and riotous blonde hair. He tries a few minutes later to catch another glimpse of her, so he can maybe wind his way back over to her, but she's nowhere to be seen.
4. lube
"It's the end of the world, and no one thought to bring any lube," Hot Dog muttered to himself as he stomped through the corridors on his way back to the bunkroom. He'd spent most of the morning hunting through lockers, shower kits, and talking to every black market contact he had. No one had anything that resembled lubricant on the whole damn ship. He wondered idly, in between trying to think of how to break the news to Kat, what exactly Tank and Crashdown had done for all those months they were together before Crash died. "No godsdamned lube anywhere..." he mumbled again.
"Did you ever think of trying soap?" came an irritated female voice, and Hot Dog looked up to see his CAG sitting kicked back in the Pilot's rec room, feet propped up on the table, and wearing a trademark scowl. When he blinked at her she arched an eyebrow. "Gods, be a little creative sometimes Costanza."
He stood there for just a moment dumb-founded, before continuing down the hall in a much brighter mood. Time to go ask Kat if she wanted to take a shower.
5. ring
Zak's ring is the only ring she'll ever wear. It's an unspoken but understood agreement fact. Sam doesn't quite understand this, when he attempts to give her a ring to commemorate their marriage. When she refuses, he first assumes that it's because it's really a rather bad job. The only metal they have access to is scrap, and the person he found to melt the metal down and reform it into a band isn't the greatest jeweler in the universe - (isn't a jeweler at all, actually) - and his assumption of that offends her quite a bit.
She realizes a few minutes after he's stormed out of the tent that she's never bothered to explain to him about Zak, and Lee, and the Adamas and herself. He's walking a minefield he actually doesn't even know is there. It's not fair, she knows that, and she deliberates briefly trying to explain it all to him. Tell him about her past and the ring she does wear as both a reminder and a punishment.
But when he comes back later, she's slipped the simple silver band onto her chain with her dog tags and hidden them both out of sight and doesn't tell him anything at all. She says she's sorry, that it's not the quality of the gift, but that she hates wearing rings and tattoos would be more permanent anyway. what does he think about tattoos instead?
6. restraints
Kara pulls at the restraints and wonders, not for the first time, why she ever agreed to this. Perhaps it was because it was such a surprising request - never in a million years would she have imagined herself doing something like this with Lee. Uptight, by the book, by the rules Lee, who was never the adventurous one in school. Of course, they'd never been lovers when they were in school, so she supposes she wouldn't really know.
She's tied to her rack in the otherwise empty officer's bunk room, and she does know Lee well enough to know that even though he's nowhere to be seen at the moment that he's not going to let anyone else walk in on her. But she is getting sick of waiting on him to come back.
He's raised up over her as he thrusts inside of her, his hands braceleted around her wrists like restraints and pinning her back down against the bunk. It hurts, and she's pretty sure - if she were really thinking all that clearly about it, which she's really not - that she's going to have bruises there tomorrow. But right now it's the pain is just rolling into all the other sensations and it just feels good.
7. feather
In a concerted effort to drive Lee crazy, Kara starts an all out assault on his senses.
It's after the rather disasterous almost one night stand they have, and even though she's the one that turns around and leaves, a part of her feels like he deserves to be punished for his part in it. After all, if he hadn't said anything, hadn't tried to slow her down, they would've just frakked and gotten it out of their systems, right? So she blames him because it's too easy to just blame herself and she begins doing everything in her power to frustrate the hell out of him.
If part of her is hoping that he'll get worked up to the point where he just throws her up against a wall and fraks her anyway, well, everybody wins, right?
She feathers her fingers with just a hint of her nails along the small of his back as he passes by her on the way to change, taking advantage of how low the his towel always rides on his hips.
She makes sure that he gets an eyeful every time she changes in the bunkroom, and that she just happens to be on the way too or from the shower everyday at the same time he is.
She surreptitiously sneaks his tanks out of his locker and sleeps in them before returning them so that he's surrounded by her scent all day long.
She makes sure to snag his coffee cup when they're in the mess so that he'll have to drink after her and taste her on the rim of his mug.
She whispers things in his ear as she passes by him in the hall, pitching her voice low enough that he can never be quite sure what he's just heard.
8. leather
Flight suits are made of unyielding leather and metal. They're unforgivingly hot, constrictive, and occasionally claustrophobic. They're what keep pilots alive out in space, keep them from freezing to death or dying of compression or decompression or from getting bloody scratches all over when a cockpit window gets blown in by a Cylon Raider.
They've saved Kara's life in another way today. If the leather had been just a little more flexible, a little more giving, Lee might have actually managed to get them her suit off of her arms and down her legs enough for him to get inside of her. If it had been just a little bit looser, he might have actually gotten inside to her skin and taken her over the edge. She would've let him. The Chief would've caught them at a lot more than pulling at buckles and while he probably wouldn't have said anything (because how many times had they caught him and Boomer doing the same thing, really?) she and Lee would've crossed that last line and that would've been the end of her life as she'd known it.
But the leather is unyielding, and Kara's damn grateful.
9. massage
One of her biggest regrets about leaving Lee is that Sam gives a crappy shitty massage. It sometimes strikes her as funny that she thinks of coming down to New Caprica as "leaving Lee" not "leaving Galactica" or "leaving the military". Even though Lee hasn't been on the Galactica for awhile now. She'll never admit it to anyone else (and certainly not to her husband) but what pushed her over the edge wasn't Sam wanting to go, or Baltar decomissioning the whole bloody lot of them. She could've fought the decomissioning. She really didn't give a good gods damn where Sam wanted to be. It wasn't even the Admiral encouraging her to go - though she's pretty sure that Sam had spoken to him and that rankles her just a bit.
No, it was the fight she had with Lee. The one where he told her she'd always be a frak-up, that they didn't need her up there and there was no more room for heroics. That the war was over and she should just go settle down on the planet with her true love. Never mind the fact that he'd moved on himself and didn't need her for anything anymore. Never mind that what they'd just done should never have happened and it might have been the best thing if they'd just forgotten about it entirely. But he'd told her to leave, and the time when she'd have disobeyed a direct order from her CAG was past. He wasn't even her CAG anymore. So she left him. Left them all.
And one of her biggest regrets is still the massages.
10. candle wax
She's kneeling in the temple three days after the accident when she flashes back on the dream. Part of one, anyway. Suddenly, she's back in the past, in a much larger, more elaborate temple on some planet somewhere, dressed in nothing but a mask, waiting. The smell of the candle wax and the heat of the flame is what throws her back into the sensory memory, and she remembers what it felt like to lie there, waiting.
The candle before her is a tall pillar, and she dips the tip of a finger into the molten wax in a sort of slow motion. She remembers feeling drops of hot wax falling from the ceiling where a chandelier hangs onto her naked flesh as she lay patient and nervous for a god to arrive. For a man pretending to be a god, for a man possessed by the god, or guided by him, Dionysus, she thinks, but she's not entirely sure. She smells flowers and herbs, feels stone under her back and against her heels. The time is passing slowly as she's waiting, waiting for him to arrive.
When she he finally does, she knows, she'll never be the same again.
Then she's back in the temple on Galactica, looking at the candle wax dried on her fingertip and wondering if she's losing her mind.
11. ice
There's ice in her blood when she thinks about what she's just done. She sits against the wall and she can feel it, tiny crystals hardening, sharpening, cutting into her skin from the inside out. She's going to freeze all the way through before this is over, and she wishes she'd hurry up and just die.
He's lying on the floor, bleeding out. She can see the pool of blood growing larger by the second - each second that seems interminably long.
My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault...
Over and over again in her head. Her fault he's dying, her fault Zak's dead. She's killing the Adamas off one by one, this time with her own hand. At the rate she's going, she can suddenly see herself standing over the Old Man with her hands wrapped around his neck, each victim getting closer, more personal, more deliberate.
She shakes her head to try to clear the images, the nightmares too close to the surface of her mind. They've always been too close, too vivid, too real for her to just disregard. Her mother told her it was because she was cursed. Her father had told her it was because she was special, but look how all that turned out for him in the end.
Leoben tells her she's special too. That's just it's own kind of creepy. But she's holding a gun in her hand, the one she's just used to shoot Lee, and she wonders not for the first time if it wouldn't be better to just turn it on herself. So easy. So quick. Then over.
Unfortunately the ice has spread from her blood and she's too numb to move.
12. oil
She manages to avoid seeing Lee for the first three weeks they're back on Galactica. She doesn't want anything to do with him, and since he hasn't made an effort to seek her out, she figures he doesn't want anything to do with her, either. It suits her just fine. That's what she tells herself, anyway.
The last time they'd talked had been disconcerting. He'd not been the man she'd known. Command had changed him, not for the better or for the worse, really. But different. He was always changing on her, that was true, but this time had been different. Part of it, she realized belatedly, had been his smell. A primal signal, a subliminal, subconcious sign, but one that had her instincts screaming at her. She's always been one to rely more on her hindbrain than her intellect in dangerous situations, and it's kicking into overdrive.
Lee's always, for as long as she's known him, smelled like flying. Oil and leather and fuel and sweat. From the very first day at the academy, to the day he stepped in front of her cell on the Galactica, whether he was coming off of duty or fresh out of the shower, that smell has always lingered on him, has always attracted and soothed her and told her he was there.
It's gone now. It has been was gone the last time she'd seen him. Replaced by soap and starch and something she can't quite place but smells vaguely female and she wonders wondered if it's it was because he's he was living with Dee now. Well worn, overworked leather has had been replaced by a crisp artificial smell that reminds reminded her rather unpleasantly of the Pegasus and Cain. Which causes caused her to shudder slightly at her memories.
So she's been avoiding him since she's been back because it's too unsettling for her. Everything has changed around her and she just wants to pretend that that little part of things isn't any different.
She's working on the engine of a Viper when a hand reaches over into her space for a tool out of her box. The scent hits her first, like a fist in the gut and she nearly drops the wrench she's holding. Oil, and leather, and fuel, and sweat. The combination that no one else has exactly right or exactly the same. The scent she never thought she'd smell again, and she closes her eyes and just breathes it in.
When she opens them, she sees Lee looking over at her, for the first time since they've been back on the ship. For the first time in a year and 6 months. He's giving her an odd look, but she really doesn't care. It's too soon to talk, they'll only get into a fight about the last time they were together. But somehow, it that doesn't bother her anymore. He's Lee again, and that's more than enough for her.
13. thrust
She can't remember what they're arguing about, but it's something. Lee's yelling and she's yelling and she's mostly yelling nonsense at this point, about him having a stick up his ass and needing to loosen up and get off his high horse - the usual lines she falls back upon on when she's too busy watching him get angry to pay attention to what she's supposed to be angry about.
He says something about her breaking the rules and thinking she can get away with it just because she's good on the stick and she remembers what started this round. An ill-timed comment about an archaic regulation - the frat regs, she thinks, the ones that no one has paid attention to since the worlds ended - including Lee, because there was that almost-time in the bunk room - and he's in just the kind of mood that her standing within ear shot and saying that something doesn't or shouldn't apply to her gets her busted.
"Just stop it, Starbuck," she hears him say, and thinks it's probably a bad sign that he's still using her call sign and not her given name, "you can't keep pushing me like this."
"Why the hell would you think I was trying to push you? Apparently you need an ego check, Apollo," because she can't be the first to call him Lee. His hands grab her upper arms hard enough to bruise (which thrills her just a little) and he slams her back against the bulkhead. Her head rocks backwards hard enough she sees stars.
"You're always trying to push me, Kara," there it is, she thinks with satisfaction, "Some days I think you just want to see what it'll take to push me over the edge." His voice has dropped now, it's quieter and lower and infinitely more dangerous. She meets his eyes and sees that he's no longer really in control, which excites her. "Is that what you want? To push me too far? To see what it is that I'll do to you?"
She's never been one to shrink back from pulling the tiger's tail. "Maybe. Maybe I keep pushing because I don't think that you can go over."
She watches something snap in his mind through his eyes. Then she's feeling his fingers and hands as he's tearing at her clothes and at his own. He keeps her pinned against the wall with is weight while he unfastens the pants of his dress uniform and jerks her sweats down her hips. Then he's flipping her over so she's face first against the wall and is wrenching one of her arms around to pin it against the small of her back. She feels strong wild fingers clench into her hip and then she feels his cock against her ass as he tries to find her entrance. He abandons his grip on her wrist to spread through her folds and finds that she's incredibly hot and wet. He lines up and thrusts into her, and she's pushing back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
It's over quickly, and he backs away even faster. He looks at her with something like horror in his eyes at what he's just done, but she smiles this slow smile and he realizes he's just done exactly what she wanted him to do. That the argument was just a ruse, and a way to make him angry enough with her to forget he's supposed to be the good soldier.
14. breast
He can't stop staring at the curve of her breast. It's showing through the open collar of her uniform jacket, the one she should probably still have buttoned up, but commencement is over and technically so is the school term. She's laughing raucously with one of the newly graduated seniors while they're passing out cigars, and she's such an incredible tomboy that it seems incongrous and wrong somehow that she's got such full and round curves.
But she does, and Lee can't seem to stop staring at them. She's his best friend, his wingman, his study partner and sometimes roommate (because her landlord keeps locking her out of the her apartment) and the last thing he should be doing is fantasizing about what she'll look like when she's sprawled across a bed naked. Something he happens to know she does on a regular basis, because he always ends up hearing all about it in the commissary the following day. They're actually going to get a place together over the summer, because he really doesn't want to go home, and she can't quite make the rising rent on her own and he's going to have to stop thinking about her breasts or he's never going to survive the experience.
She glances over her shoulder and smiles at him, and the movement spreads the fabric just a little bit further apart, giving him that much better a view. He shifts his hips uncomfortably in his chair as his pants become too tight through the crotch.
It's going to be a long summer.
15. throat
Alcohol burns her throat. She doesn't really care, and she knows the nerves will be deadened soon enough, but until then the little bit of pain is a self-inflicted wound she's happy to make. She's on her third, or is it fourth? bottle of the stuff. She should've stopped at two. It's been a long, long time since she's overdone it this badly, and the voice in her head (the one that sounds remarkably like Lee's) is telling her to stop already, for frak's sake, but she won't.
Because Lee's not coming back. No one's coming back. They saw those ships, the basestars that jumped into orbit, and they ran, and she doesn't blame them at all, she just blames herself for not being up there with them. For not being where she belongs, in a Viper, kicking Cylon ass. She's going to try to take all the skin-jobs she can take with her when she goes down in a blaze of glory, because she knows they'll never win down here, not as sick and tired and cold as they are. But she's going to find some weapons, she thinks, and fight them until she can't.
She never sees the syringe that presses against the pulse point on her neck, never feels the chemicals that invade her blood stream and knock her unconcious.
When she wakes up she's far too sober, too weak, and too scared to feel real. Then Leoben walks in and she realizes she's not real anymore.
She's just in hell.
16. taut
She waits to cross the hall into CIC and her nerves are stretched taut. She feels like they're about to break, to snap under the strain and she wonders for the forty-third time where the hell Lee is. If he's alright. She knew from the moment that the Blackbird broke up he wouldn't be coming back to help her with this, that's not the problem. The problem is not knowing if he's made it out alright.
On the one hand, she feels like if he were dead, she's know. Like there'd be a feeling in the pit of her stomach that would tell her yes, he's really gone. The feeling that she hadn't realized she didn't have until after he'd turned back up alive in those first few hours after the attacks. So she's pretty sure that he's still alive out there. Unless he's not and she's not feeling it because really, she's dead too and just hasn't acknowledged that yet. It's a suicide mission after all. Perhaps the Fates are hiding him from her as one last kindness (but when have the Fates ever been kind to her?) before she does this one last thing and her own death.
But if he's not really dead, and she dies, will she ultimately still take him with her, like she was supposed to?
17. supple
His hand traces supple skin that's stretched taut over her growing belly. She's asleep for once, and he has the unique opportunity to look at her without her realizing what he's doing. He knows she's upset about this, and that it's the last thing she's wanted. He knows she resents the hell out of having to carry the child to term, and that she keeps insisting that once it's born she wants nothing to do with it.
He's hoping she'll change her mind. Cottle has already confided in him that she'll likely have to take care of the baby the first few weeks regardless, because they're almost out of formula and can't afford to spare any if there's any other way to nourish the child. Wet nurses are a possibility, but it'll take time to try and track one down, and they won't be able to even get started until after the baby's born and they know for sure the blood type and RH factor.
19. whisper
A word is like a whisper in her ear. A note to end a dream on, to wake up on, to start a whole new story on. There's a whisper in her ear, like someone is calling to her from some kind of a faraway place.
"You have to remember, you have to learn."
"Remember."
"Learn."
Every time, in every life, Lee's breath is a whisper along her skin. When he holds her she's safe, for just a little bit of time, until they turn on each other and her world is uncertain and scary again. And it happens again and again, and she knows that because she's seen that and in the last several /few weeks she's relived that, relived all the memories and all the times and she knows how the story will end. Each time. With anger, and hatred, and betrayal and why the hell should they go through it again and again and again? Why can't they learn the lesson - they're bad for each other - and just stay away from each other.
"You haven't lived it all. You have lives yet to live. You haven't learned your lesson yet, and this time's time is running out."
Each time, she's noticing, it's getting harder. More painful, with larger and larger outward ripples effecting everyone around them. If they fail this time, how much worse will the next time be?
And every night when she's in between, in the fog between awake and a dream, she hears the whisper, reminding her.
25. orgy
The latest batch of the chief's home brew leads to an orgy of sorts on D deck. The triad game devolves rather rapidly into strip-Triad, because Kat's out of credits and socks again, and Helo's evil enough to suggest it as an alternative. With Starbuck still AWOL from the gaming table, and Lee sulking in his office about some latest breech of protocol (and Helo's pretty sure that, as usual, the two instances are somewhat related) the games have been really frakking boring lately.
Sharon shoots him a look just before folding her hand and kicking back to watch the fallout. He shrugs in such a way that says "I'll be good, but you can't blame me for wanting a peek" and she lifts a corner of her mouth in a half-smile. Strip leads to a kind of impromptu truth or dare game, with dares being the order of the evening and taking the place of items of clothing if someone is feeling particularly threatened. Which is how Racetrack ends up in just her briefs, sucking on Kat's nipple while Hot Dog is holding onto her hips to keep her from falling over. (She's had a jar and a half of the strong stuff by then.)
Lee's first thought when he walks into the scene is that they're all a bunch of frakking juveniles, and he really wishes Starbuck was there to talk him into joining in. But she's not, and without her, he can't unwind quite enough to give in.
26. corset
They can still hear the music from the drawing room below them, and as he pulls her towards him and their lips meet in a kiss their bodies sway together in time. His fingers play up and down her back softly, opening them the buttons slowly until he can peel the layer of her dress away from her shoulders and down to reveal a chemise /shift encased by a corset.
He works the heavy silks down over her hips so that they fall to the floor. He turns her around away from him with a hand to her neck and she can feel his other hand ghost along the boning and ties down her sides. She feels his lips and just a hint of teeth at the nape of her neck. She knows it's wrong, he's engaged, she has Costas, but she just doesn't care. Right now all that matters is the feel of his hands on her, his taste on her tongue and his scent in her nostrils. the air around her.
The constrictive garments begin to loosen under his searching fingers, and those fingers begin to play along her bare skin. She can still feel the music pound pounding in her blood and the beat of her heart, which is going faster now as his he rolls one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He pulls her corset apart and away and tosses it to the one side.
"Tell me you want me. Tell me that you want this," he whispers. He pushes himself against her so there's no mistaking how hard he is.
"Don't," she whispers back, breathlessly.
"Don't? Don't what?"
She turns sharply in his arms and grabs hold of his shoulders. "Don't talk. Don't... don't do anything but this," and she raises up on tip toe and presses her mouth to his, becoming the agressor in their little power play.
He tumbles her back onto the bed and starts pulling on her shift. It's unexpected (though not entirely unwelcome) to have a partner that's as active (not to mention demanding and agressive) a participant as he is. It's is a new experience for him. It makes him hotter, more impatient for her. Her shift rips as he tries to wrestle it over her head and she could honestly care less. He's eager for her, and it takes him a few tries to spread her open and guide himself inside of her. Then he's in and she's closing warm and tight - no, hot - around him. Her hips move up to meet his, and it's so different from when he's fraking Lena who just lies there beneath him waiting for it to be over. He's not as careful as he should be, and doesn't last long enough to make sure she comes first. But if the way she's breathing and shaking is any indication, he managed it anyway.
He slumps next to her, tangling their legs so she can't move away from him and takes the opportunity, now that they're at least momentarily sated to drink in the sight of her.
40. virgins
Neither one of them has been a virgin in a very, very long time. Without the alcohol or the anger, though, it feels like they are. They're both virgins again standing in front of their first partner, and they just don't quite know what to do. They can do rage, they can do drunk, they can do illicit all just fine, but coming together sober, calm, and without other ties binding them apart from each other may just be enough to do them in.
He reaches out tentatively for the hem of her tanks, and she slides her fingertips hesitantly into the waistband of his sweats and the sensation of skin against skin is almost too much for either of them to stand. It's never been like this before, it'll never be like this again, and the realization of just what they'll be losing if they frak it all up is almost enough to bring them both to their knees.
His mouth sets itself lightly against hers so that she can feel his breath against her lips and she feels more than hears him whisper a question to her. "Is this ok?"
In response she inhales, then gives herself over and lets go.
53. threesome
It's always a threesome when Kara's with Sam. Or anyone, really. Whether he ever realizes it or not, there's a third person in the bed with them, between them, beside them, separating them like some kind of invisible wall he'll never quite be able to breach. Lee's always there in her mind. When she lets herself go, gives herself over to the sex so that she can come, it's Lee she's picturing moving above her or beneath her or inside of her, not Sam. She learned part of her lesson when she was with Baltar - she doesn't speak during sex anymore - but she wonders sometimes if that was really the lesson she was supposed to have learned. Shouldn't it have been that she can't have Lee, won't have Lee, could never have Lee and that by fantasizing any differently she's just setting herself up for a fall? But no, what she's learned is that she can't mention Lee, can't talk about Lee, can't call out his name and so it's really just better that she has sex silently.
Sam just assumes she's not a screamer.
If only he knew...
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Date: 2006-11-25 08:22 am (UTC)I can't really pick a fave...maybe leather...cause I just love that word and the images is conjures.
Lovely job.