How does the President relax?
The President slipped off her shoe and held her foot out until she felt the material against her panty hose. She reached her foot out further, feeling the firmness of a muscled leg.
She knew she'd struck her target when she saw the figure opposite her fidget slightly. A small grin spread across her lips as she watched them squirm. They were pretending to listen to some point the Admiral was making, but Laura knew their head was elsewhere.
She slowly slid her elegant foot upward. Stroking the thigh ever so slightly above their knee. She was enjoying this. Knowing they were helpless, they couldn't make her stop or make her go any further without making those present at the table aware of the game they were playing.
Laura sipped her wine as she kept her foot where it was, on the inside of the knee, barely moving. She would look over at the handsome specimen over her wine glass every now and then to make sure they were still focused on her, and her damned foot. They sipped at their liquor, Laura noticed with glee when she noticed their normally steady hand was shaking.
The President kept this up for another ten minutes, her foot moving oh so slowly up from the knee.
She looked at her target again to make sure they were still effected and grinned widely when their eyes met. Hers were playful and teasing, theirs were threatening, burning. She licked her lips when she saw beads of sweat appear.
Those at the table were oblivious to all of these little communications. Those at the table were, Mr and Mrs Tigh, (well on their way to drunk), the Admiral (who was too busy talking to anyone who would listen about his days before the Cylon attack), Lee and Gaius (having a hot debate over where the fleet should go next) and Starbuck (watching the two men, more interested in her drink than anyone else).
Laura had lost interest in the conversations a while ago, she had only come to show the Admiral her support but if she was truly honest she would say she found these meals taxing. The conversations almost always led back to command and what's best for the fleet, she found it most aggravating, for once she just wanted to relax. And so she did, tonight she was feeling predatory.
She slid her foot further up the trouser leg, she always loved uniforms, and Galacticas uniforms were particularly, appealing. She pushed her foot further up until she was so close to the crotch she could almost hear the heart beating quickly across from her. Her lips twitched and spread into a wicked grin. She downed her wine when she noticed everyone was leaving. Everyone except her prey.
When everyone had said their goodbyes and the hatch was firmly shut she cleared her throat, staring intently at the figure opposite her. She could've sworn she felt them shiver. Her foot was still rubbing their thigh.
"Madame President..."They said then paused.
"Was there something you needed, Lt. Thrace?" Laura said eventually, still grinning.