She had his number.

Oh boy, did she have his number.

And she used it. She called, not asking for help this time, just called and left a message, in that sexy, sultry voice... Hello, Sweetie. Come up and see me some time.

He knew that quote - even though it wasn't quite right, he knew that first hand. He'd known Miss West herself, after all. If anyone could pull off that look and that voice and that way about her, that person was River Song. And it sounded like she had seduction in mind, which was just fine with him; it had been quite a while since he'd seen her in any sort of conducive circumstance for that.

He looked forward to it.

So he went to the coordinates, which happened to be a hotel room in Las Vegas in 1933 and he had been right, she was gorgeous, all slinky and sparkly with unexpected flashes of smooth skin through slits in the slinky-sparkly dress and he wanted her, so much and oh... she flowed toward him, gliding on those high, high heels, and took his face between her hands and kissed him and slid her hands behind his head, lacing her fingers together and nibbling on his lower lip until he groaned with need into her mouth as his arms tightened reflexively around her. Then she threw back her head and laughed that deep, throaty laugh that sent chills down his spine. "Hello, Sweetie."

He tried to return the greeting but he had just realised that his hands on her back weren't encountering anything but River herself, her soft skin and the bones of her spine, and he couldn't speak. He just splayed his hands on the bare warm skin at the small of her back and pulled her hips into his, and this time the groan was mutual as their bodies molded together. Her high silver heels made them match perfectly, the same height, thigh to thigh, chest to breast, lips to lips, and they rubbed and stroked each other at all the points where their bodies met. She moaned into his mouth as she walked him backward to the bed and let go of him just long enough to push him onto it, landing on top of him and fastening her lips to his again.

He'd lost the top hat, but this once he didn't care, because River was on him, squirming and rubbing her body over his, and she unzipped his trousers and slipped her hand inside, stroking him until he thought he was going to go mad with wanting her. "Slow down, River," he whispered into the ear he was nuzzling, "Slow down. I'm not going anywhere." He took her arm by the wrist and pulled it away from him, flipping them over and pinning her arms to the bed as he straddled her hips. "Let me look at you, my sweet and sexy River Song. I want to see you. All of you." He unfastened the clasp holding the bodice of her dress, and slowly drew the fabric down, scraping at her nipples with his fingertips as he brought the shiny silver material down over her breasts. She arched into the touch, whimpering in protest as his calloused fingers left her breasts and moved down, taking the dress off over her hips and down her legs, where the fabric slithered off the bed into a silver puddle on the floor. He smiled up at her from his kneeling position between her feet at the end of the bed. "Oh, my River, look at you. So beautiful, my lovely River Song, and so very precious to me.". He ran one hand up the outside her leg from her ankle to her thigh, and she shivered, but when he tried to gently pull her knees apart, she resisted. He stopped and moved up the bed until he lay next to her where he could see her face, one hand resting lightly on her stomach but otherwise not touching her. She was watching him, her eyes wide and dark, and her body tense. She looks frightened, he thought with surprise, but this was her idea. What did I do? "Did I hurt you, River?" he asked very gently. She shook her head.

"I... I thought I could do this without telling you," she whispered, "But you're so... so kind and so sweet, and I need to tell you..." She trailed off and closed her eyes.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he said quietly, moving his hand up to her face and stroking her jaw with his thumb. "I won't hurt you."

She opened her eyes at the touch on her face, and but she looked away from him. "I... you're here under false pretenses," she said, miserably, "I'm an earlier River Song than you think. I... it's only been about a month for me since you left me with the Sisters." She finally looked at him, into his face, and he saw that her eyes were full of tears. "I've never... I... Please don't leave. I know I should have told you..."

"And why didn't you tell me?" His voice was still very gentle, and he hadn't stopped running his thumb up and down her jaw.

"Would you have come to me?"

The Doctor considered this. "I don't know," he finally admitted, "but I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." He smiled at her. "I do have one question though," he said, the tips of his ears going pink. "You... er... you said you hadn't ever... but you seem to know how to..." he trailed off as she was startled into laughter at the look on his face.

"Oh," she gasped, laughing, "How shall I put this? River Song hasn't ever, but Mels was a bad, bad girl." She captured the hand on her cheek and guided it down to one of her breasts. "Touch me. Please?" And then she moaned as he stroked her skin there and took her other nipple between his lips, sucking gently and then harder as she arched into his touch. "Oh..." she breathed, and let the sensations wash over her, his hands and his mouth were everywhere, touching and licking and caressing and sucking and finally, finally he reached between her legs and she exploded into a million pieces between his fingers and his tongue.

She was breathless as he made his way carefully back up her body, and he lay alongside her and nuzzled the soft spot under her ear. His hand lazily caressed her stomach, knowing it was about the only place on her body not too sensitive to touch. "Mmm, my beautiful River," he murmured into her ear, and she turned to face him, dropping little kisses from his lips along his jaw to his ear. He whimpered as she nipped at his earlobe and her small warm hands ran over his body teasingly as she removed his clothes, pushing him onto his back. "River..." It was a moan, as she took him into her hands and stroked him, over and over again, until he took her hands in his, stilling them. "River..." he groaned, "Please. I need... need you." She moaned his name, the only name she knew him by, and raised herself over him, impaling herself on him in one smooth motion, and stopped for just a moment. And then she began to move, and he moved with her, each of them stroking and kissing and nibbling and caressing whatever they could reach, and finally their loving came to a climax. They peaked together, each crying out the other's name, and she collapsed on him.

Hours later, as he held her sleeping body in his arms, the Doctor reflected that if he had known how young she was, he might not have left the TARDIS to see her. Not this time, anyway. And that would have been a shame. Because really, he was willing to come on up and see her any time.