[time: 19 days earlier]
She rested on top of him, her head on his shoulder, comfortable in their newfound closeness.
"Am I too heavy?" She moved reluctantly, tilting her head to look in his eyes.
"Stay." His hand found her butt and kept her from moving. She didn't weigh much and he really didn't mind lying like this for a while, enjoying her scent, the way her breasts pressed against his chest, the tickling of her long hair and, most of all, her relaxed naked trust.
"Good." Her head dropped to his shoulder again and she nestled closer.
They dozed off contentedly.
He stirred when her lower body chafed with diminutive movements against his upper leg.
"Bill?" she sighed near his ear.
"Hmm?" he grunted, his eyes plastered shut with sleep
"Would you mind?"
The movements of her body left little doubt of her intentions. With effort, he opened one eye and saw the clock spelled 03:14.
"Now?" He was sixty-one years old and he felt like it.
"Now would be good."
He sighed and closed his eye again. She was only eight years his junior, she was terminally ill, but that didn't seem to stop her. Perhaps it was the chamalla.
He rubbed his face, trying to surface from his dream. The rest of his body slept too. He was just too darn comfortable after the frakking, earlier.
"Persuade me," he suggested after a while.
She chortled and slid down over his body. "That's not an unreasonable demand..."
Did he just hear her purr?
YOU ARE READING
No Phoenix for Roslin
FanfictionRoslin brought Bill his glass and perched on her desk, looking down at him. Normally, he would have resented that as a common demeaning politician trick, but now he only wondered if she realized how the position showed off her legs. "What's on your...
