Author's Notes –
Decided to give you a little bit of the steamy…
To answer a question, A Gallifreyan Primer for Hospitable Species, is a product of my imagination.
This is just a work of fan fiction; I have no claim to anything!
Amy Pond Gets Her Man
By Penmom
Chapter 4
DPV
He rolled over and over. His mind kept flashing on her lips, her eyes, her hair, her miles and miles of skin like cream. He would ease for a while and once relaxed, his mind would return to her, always to her. Thinking of her would soon result in more tossing and turning. It was becoming a never ending cycle.
It had never been like this, not even with… no, not even with Rose.
He enjoyed being around Rose, he missed her presence, her companionship. Intellectually, he knew she was a beautiful woman. He had resolved that at some point she would leave him to pursue a true relationship with a man, that she might want children or a traditional home. He never lost any sleep over these things. It was just how it was.
He had to admit that it stroked his ego that she ended up with a version of himself. Deep down, he prided himself that it was a watered down version, but still…
But Amelia Pond was a different case all together. She pulled at him like the tide of the moon. He loved how she charged into a situation. EEEKKKK, there he went again! He mentally chastised himself for once more applying the verb "love" to any part of Amy Pond.
He did not love the way her accent got stronger when she felt keen emotions. He did not love her laugh that was hearty and joyous. He did not love those legs that when on for miles. He did not love that she often gazed at him like he was a tasty piece of meat. The list was long and it eventually lulled him into an uneasy rest.
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He rolled closer to the warm body beside of him. She was soft and smelled delicious like cinnamon and nutmeg. Her back was turned away from him. He came closer still and pulled her body into the curve of his own. She sighed in her sleep and nestled back against him.
As she moved, the cleft of her bottom came into contact with his member. Immediately, all of his focus shifted to that one point on his body. He had never felt such physical need before. He took a deep breath and took in the scent of her hair and skin. He could feel every beat of his heart pound through him.
She moved slightly, pressing even closer, putting a constant pressure where he needed it the most. Before he could process his intentions, the hand that had loosely clasped her waist rose to cup her breast. It registered that she was nude, but that only encouraged him to run his fingers softly across her skin over and over, until the tip of her breast was tempting him to squeeze it gently between his thumb and forefinger.
In response to his touch, she shifted up and down directly rubbing against his erection. The firm and he knew, rosy cheeks, of her rear caressed him perfectly. The friction was heaven.
After the initial foray, the touching and rubbing became more and more constant and intense. His lips ran over the nape of her neck repeatedly. His hold on her breast became firmer and more insistent. Her hand grasped his hip pulling him even closer.
As her hand trailed away, she rolled toward him while he shifted to move on top of her. They moved sinuously together for several incredible moments. There were simply too many points of contact to catalog them all. His hands ran up and down her back. Her skin was like velvet.
Her thighs spread and clasped him to her, her pelvis tilted to welcome him. He pushed up on his forearms to gaze into her eyes…
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His eyes opened quickly. He was as hard as a rock. Reflexively, he grasped himself tightly and tugged - hard. He couldn't stop himself, didn't want to – it felt too good, too necessary. He closed his eyes and simply felt.
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He lay in bed, looking at the ceiling. What was he going to do? Obliviously ignoring it wasn't working, his obsession just made itself at home in his subconscious. Never had a companion affected him in such a way.
If she were any other problem, any other circumstance - he would charge in leading with his intuition. But no, he could see exactly where that course of action lead – right between those creamy thighs.
Giving up on sleep, reading seemed like a good proposition.
He didn't bother dressing before he went out. For goodness sakes, it was the middle of the night – TARDIS time. And so he made his way to the library, in his Tintin pajama bottoms and an old Man U t-shirt from a prior incarnation.
He rounded the corner and was surprised to find the object of his dismay, still curled in the chair she had claimed much earlier in the day.
As usual, he was immediately distracted, taking time to inspect the dark lashes that rested on her slightly flushed cheeks. His perusal at made it all the way to her lovely long fingers before he spied the book on her lap.
He tilted his head to see what had engrossed her so – A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Pride and Prejudice, Gray's Anatomy? With Amelia Pond who knew!
The words were out of his mouth before he fully processed what he was reading.
"Good Lord, Woman! What are you doing?"
"How in all the universe did you manage to find this vile little tome?" He went on to exclaim as he jerked the book away.