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Entry tags:
BSG/24 porn: Dana/Sam Anders, Assignment: Stray Dog, R
Disclaimer: not mine
fandoms: BSG, 24
Pairing: Dana Walsh/Sam Anders
Rating: R
For the prompt: Sam Anders/Dana Walsh: spy games at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bsg_pornbattle
Summary: Dana lets herself get distracted on the job.
Assignment:Porn Stray Dog
by ALC Punk!
Dana isn't supposed to be distracted from her job. There's a mission, and she's got to keep to it. But she can't help but watch her opposite number as he strolls through the room. There's something about the way his hands seem so casual as they stroke the stem of the glass in his hands.
Official functions aren't supposed to make her feel hot and bothered, and Dana tears her eyes from him, turning instead to watch the man who's supposed to be under her surveillance.
The problem is he's boring: standing around, talking with boring people, telling boring stories (from what she can hear). And Dana is tired of boring.
She stifles a yawn and glances at her watch.
"It won't go faster." A voice murmurs.
Dana doesn't have to look to know who it is. She can smell him, that sort of gut-clenching machismo type of scent that always made her want to punch the wearer in the balls. For some reason, it just makes her want to shift closer to him. Gritting her teeth, she ignores him.
"Time," he clarifies.
"Go away." The words are free of artifice and full of irritation, and Dana wants to pull them back, afraid of how much she's blown her cover as a docile, quiet woman.
"All right."
His answer is so agreeable, Dana actually stops him, her hand shooting out to grab his wrist.
The moment seems to freeze and she turns to look at him. "There are ways to make it go faster." She feels a smirk stretch her lips at the surprise in his eyes. "Or weren't you thinking along those lines?"
It's a spur of the moment decision, and she tries to rationalize it to herself as sounding out an enemy agent.
"Now that you mention it..." His lips flash a grin at her.
There's a stairwell not far away, Dana jams her heel under the door to give them warning and lets him sit down first. Her little black dress hiked around her hips, she straddles his lap. "I hadn't planned for this," she whispers, kissing him before he could reply.
Dana tries to remind herself that she doesn't do this sort of thing. But the party was boring, her assignment was bland, and this guy--his hands on her hips hold her still as he kisses his way along her neck and the exposed parts of her chest. Dana's always been very proud about the way the dress displays her with just enough cleavage to be distracting and not enough to be considered a 42nd Avenue whore.
He's good with his hands and his mouth, and Dana feels a little embarrassed at how fast he's got her whimpering for a release while he's only got his pants unzipped.
"Wait--" she pants, suddenly pulling free and standing on not-quite steady legs.
He watches as she tugs his pants open, pulls him free. Hot and hard in her hand, his cock pulses just a little and Dana smiles at the way he swallows, his body straining at her touch.
With quick movements, she pulls a condom from her bag and has it out, unrolling it down his length, taking care to caress and stroke, her fingers dipping down to brush against his balls. The guy's hands clench on the step, and she tilts her head to the side, leaning in to suck at the side of his neck. "Better," she finally murmurs, proud of her handiwork.
"Oh, yeah--" his hands grab for her hips again, and Dana fights back a laugh at how eager he is.
Straddling him again, she lets him take control, his hand between her legs, fingers pushing up and in, stroking her lazily for a moment. "Harder," she whispers, wondering how far their voices will echo up the stairwell.
He can't be comfortable on the step, and Dana thinks of her ass going numb if it were her.
"I can do harder." His hand pulls down on her hip and he slips against her, before sliding in deep.
Dana feels a little shameless about the guttural little sound that escapes her, then. Her assignment is so far away, that her mind isn't even trying to catalogue where this little moment fits into her plans for her life.
It's fast, almost too frantic. She's going to have bruises on her knees later, and her new friend has at least one half-formed hickey. Dana feels obscurely pleased at having marked him, even as his fingers dig into her hips and his mouth sucks at her nipple. She doesn't remember him tugging the top down, freeing her enough for his mouth, but she doesn't really care, either.
She climaxes hard, hearing herself echo up to the top of the building and back down. In that instant, she has no shame.
Neither does he.
They slump against each other and the stairs, Dana propped on one hand, the cold from the step leaching into her fingers.
"Sam," he murmurs, brushing a kiss along her cheek. "You can say it next time."
"Hrm?" Disengaging, she slowly staggers to her feet, blindly reaching for the waste basket she spotted on their way in.
A chuckle escapes him as they clean up using wet naps from her purse and a napkin from his pocket. "My name."
"Oh." Dana pauses, one shoe in her hand. Her panties are already in place and her dress needs one more tug to be perfect again. "I wasn't going to ask."
"I didn't think you would. Dana." He leans back on an elbow, mouth curved into a smirk. "After all, we're both just doing our jobs."
A thought makes her freeze, and she almost trips over her shoes as she leaves the stairwell. Reaching the main reception again, hands smoothing down the front of her dress, she scans the crowd and mentally curses. Of all the times to break a regulation, now shouldn't have been one of them. Her assignment has disappeared, and so has his companions.
Her boss is going to take a dim view of things if she can't salvage her situation. Grabbing a glass of champagne, she heads for the service entrance. If anyone was watching, it would be the staff. A few bribes, and she'd know where to go from here.
-f-
fandoms: BSG, 24
Pairing: Dana Walsh/Sam Anders
Rating: R
For the prompt: Sam Anders/Dana Walsh: spy games at
bsg_pornbattleSummary: Dana lets herself get distracted on the job.
Assignment:
by ALC Punk!
Dana isn't supposed to be distracted from her job. There's a mission, and she's got to keep to it. But she can't help but watch her opposite number as he strolls through the room. There's something about the way his hands seem so casual as they stroke the stem of the glass in his hands.
Official functions aren't supposed to make her feel hot and bothered, and Dana tears her eyes from him, turning instead to watch the man who's supposed to be under her surveillance.
The problem is he's boring: standing around, talking with boring people, telling boring stories (from what she can hear). And Dana is tired of boring.
She stifles a yawn and glances at her watch.
"It won't go faster." A voice murmurs.
Dana doesn't have to look to know who it is. She can smell him, that sort of gut-clenching machismo type of scent that always made her want to punch the wearer in the balls. For some reason, it just makes her want to shift closer to him. Gritting her teeth, she ignores him.
"Time," he clarifies.
"Go away." The words are free of artifice and full of irritation, and Dana wants to pull them back, afraid of how much she's blown her cover as a docile, quiet woman.
"All right."
His answer is so agreeable, Dana actually stops him, her hand shooting out to grab his wrist.
The moment seems to freeze and she turns to look at him. "There are ways to make it go faster." She feels a smirk stretch her lips at the surprise in his eyes. "Or weren't you thinking along those lines?"
It's a spur of the moment decision, and she tries to rationalize it to herself as sounding out an enemy agent.
"Now that you mention it..." His lips flash a grin at her.
There's a stairwell not far away, Dana jams her heel under the door to give them warning and lets him sit down first. Her little black dress hiked around her hips, she straddles his lap. "I hadn't planned for this," she whispers, kissing him before he could reply.
Dana tries to remind herself that she doesn't do this sort of thing. But the party was boring, her assignment was bland, and this guy--his hands on her hips hold her still as he kisses his way along her neck and the exposed parts of her chest. Dana's always been very proud about the way the dress displays her with just enough cleavage to be distracting and not enough to be considered a 42nd Avenue whore.
He's good with his hands and his mouth, and Dana feels a little embarrassed at how fast he's got her whimpering for a release while he's only got his pants unzipped.
"Wait--" she pants, suddenly pulling free and standing on not-quite steady legs.
He watches as she tugs his pants open, pulls him free. Hot and hard in her hand, his cock pulses just a little and Dana smiles at the way he swallows, his body straining at her touch.
With quick movements, she pulls a condom from her bag and has it out, unrolling it down his length, taking care to caress and stroke, her fingers dipping down to brush against his balls. The guy's hands clench on the step, and she tilts her head to the side, leaning in to suck at the side of his neck. "Better," she finally murmurs, proud of her handiwork.
"Oh, yeah--" his hands grab for her hips again, and Dana fights back a laugh at how eager he is.
Straddling him again, she lets him take control, his hand between her legs, fingers pushing up and in, stroking her lazily for a moment. "Harder," she whispers, wondering how far their voices will echo up the stairwell.
He can't be comfortable on the step, and Dana thinks of her ass going numb if it were her.
"I can do harder." His hand pulls down on her hip and he slips against her, before sliding in deep.
Dana feels a little shameless about the guttural little sound that escapes her, then. Her assignment is so far away, that her mind isn't even trying to catalogue where this little moment fits into her plans for her life.
It's fast, almost too frantic. She's going to have bruises on her knees later, and her new friend has at least one half-formed hickey. Dana feels obscurely pleased at having marked him, even as his fingers dig into her hips and his mouth sucks at her nipple. She doesn't remember him tugging the top down, freeing her enough for his mouth, but she doesn't really care, either.
She climaxes hard, hearing herself echo up to the top of the building and back down. In that instant, she has no shame.
Neither does he.
They slump against each other and the stairs, Dana propped on one hand, the cold from the step leaching into her fingers.
"Sam," he murmurs, brushing a kiss along her cheek. "You can say it next time."
"Hrm?" Disengaging, she slowly staggers to her feet, blindly reaching for the waste basket she spotted on their way in.
A chuckle escapes him as they clean up using wet naps from her purse and a napkin from his pocket. "My name."
"Oh." Dana pauses, one shoe in her hand. Her panties are already in place and her dress needs one more tug to be perfect again. "I wasn't going to ask."
"I didn't think you would. Dana." He leans back on an elbow, mouth curved into a smirk. "After all, we're both just doing our jobs."
A thought makes her freeze, and she almost trips over her shoes as she leaves the stairwell. Reaching the main reception again, hands smoothing down the front of her dress, she scans the crowd and mentally curses. Of all the times to break a regulation, now shouldn't have been one of them. Her assignment has disappeared, and so has his companions.
Her boss is going to take a dim view of things if she can't salvage her situation. Grabbing a glass of champagne, she heads for the service entrance. If anyone was watching, it would be the staff. A few bribes, and she'd know where to go from here.
-f-
no subject
and I love how Sam is so sure there'll be a next time. heh.
no subject
Thank you =D
no subject
Sam says he's SURE to run into her at another assignment. =D
Thank you!
no subject
no subject
Thank you! =D