WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS PART 8B
Ok, kids, now this bit is really and truly rated R! A Time Lord's normal body temperature is around 60 degrees Fahrenheit, so I've read. A human's is 98.6. It's about to become very warm in the Doctor's room. Ye have been warned.
Oh, and one request. Not to sound whiny, but would some of you please give me some feedback on how this part is going? I've never written Dr. Who, let alone Dr. Who sex, and I'm worried I might be mucking this up. Thank you!
Passion. Lust. Desire.
Those "other" emotions. Ones he didn't have much experience with. He understood them as an abstract concept. But up close and personal: well, there hadn't been much point in it before. Or much opportunity. He'd held each of his companions very dear to his hearts. But it hadn't really occurred to him to be anything more than a friend to them. There had been no real urge to expand the relationship into something more.
All that had changed with Sarah. When he'd first realized his feelings for her were more complex than friendship, more evolved than companionship, he'd been stunned. And because she'd never given any hint that she felt the same, he'd kept it on that more uncomplicated level. And things had been all right: had been grand, really. Until a few days ago when he'd started to unravel.
THAT was not good. Discovering that Sarah shared his feelings. THAT was good.
Especially right now, when she was doing the most amazing things to his ear with her tongue. As she darted that tongue slightly into his ear and slowly withdrew it he shivered. He realized that, although he'd had deeper feelings for her than friendship for a while now, he'd never really seen her in a sexual way before that kiss. Now she was very female, very sexual to him. A part of his mind began analyzing how his perception of her could have altered so dramatically so quickly.
Sarah slid her hands down to the buttons of his black flannel shirt, an action that quickly made it difficult to focus on anything other than what she was doing. He watched her long slim fingers tug open the first button, and the next, and the next.
"Sarah," he said.
"Hush," she replied.
"No, listen to me. Are you sure?"
Her answer was to undo the final button and peel the shirt away from his chest. She smoothed aside the layers of material, her dark eyes drinking in the sight of his exposed skin. She ran the palms of her hands down his muscles to the flat plane of his stomach and back up again, watching the expressions that crossed his face. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being touched: every inch her fingers slid along his flesh caused him to twitch. She smiled. "Does that answer your question?" She asked.
"Quite," he gasped.
She gently pressed him down on the bed until he was stretched out on his back with her straddling him. She continued to caress his bare chest with her fingertips a bit longer before she leaned over him and licked his left nipple. His eyes closed and a low sigh escaped him. She flicked her tongue over the sensitive nub again, then took it into her mouth and very gently sucked on it. He jerked slightly and moaned.
She continued her assault on the other side, then brushed each thumb over a nipple as she trailed her mouth in damp circles from his collarbone to the waistband of his trousers. He was twisting beneath her, breath coming out in small pants. She grinned. He was a babe in the woods, a babe who was about to meet a wolf.
He opened his eyes as he felt her unzipping his trousers, raised his head slightly to watch and discovered that she was staring at him intently. Her eyes never leaving his, she slid them down and off his body. He laid back and shut his eyes again, enjoying the feeling of her touch. She gazed at him from head to toe. and abruptly giggled.
He shot up on the bed with an indignant expression. "DO YOU MIND!"
She pushed him back down with a laugh. "Black! All black!"
He titled his head, puzzled. "What?"
"All black! Your shirt, your shoes, your pants. even your underwear is black! When did you decide to become the Gothic Time Lord poster child?"
"Oh. that. I'll have you know black is very fashionable! Goes with anything, never out of style."
"Right. Then why don't you wear black all the time and not tweed and burgundy?"
He settled down, eyes flicking over her as he considered the question. "I suppose I never felt the urge to," he said at length.
Her expression darkened. She didn't have to be a Time Lord to understand the symbolism of black. Sadness, mourning. He'd never felt like doing those things. Until now.
"Yes, well, let's see if we can't get you to feel the urge to wear something a bit more cheery, eh?" She smiled at him as she slowly snaked her fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers.
"There is nothing wrong with.Rassilon's Sash! What ARE you doing!" He gasped, feeling as if a fire had suddenly been started in his groin.
Sarah grinned at him, her fingers still curving around his member. "Oh, did you like that?" She asked innocently. Outside, she was cool as a cucumber. Inside, she was having fits.
"Like that, indeed!" He exclaimed. He was about to say more, but she stroked him again, a smooth quick slide of her hand. The words caught in his throat and were replaced by a moan. She bent over him, capturing his mouth with hers at the exact same moment that she caressed him once more. Her tongue slid past his parted lips, explored the inside of his mouth as her hands explored the length of his shaft. He wasn't fully aroused yet, but he had definitely bought a ticket!
She chuckled. "You Time Lords do take some extra effort to start up, don't you!"
If he voiced a reply, it was muffled by her kisses. She traveled down his body and back up again, caressing him, getting to know the texture and tastes of him, from sweet and spiced to where he had a tiny patch of freckles on his left shoulder blade. Her hands and lips and teeth and tongue explored the angles of his arms, the clean lines of his legs, the dark curls of hair on his lower stomach. She stroked his elbows, his eyebrows, his feet. Gently, she wound him into a state of relaxed desire, not stopping her attentions until he was trembling beneath her. Only then did she remove the last barrier, her eyes soft and full of longing as he raised his hips to help her strip the piece of clothing away.
"Sarah."
His voice was so dark, so deep it made her shiver. Her hands skimmed down him until they came to rest at the junction of his thighs. She felt him tremble again as she settled her hands on his hips. There seemed to be a questioning in his eyes, something he wanted to say, or to hear her say.
"Doctor? What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
"You have that look about you."
"I was. I just." His voice trailed off uncertainly.
"Come on, out with it. It's not like you've got anything left to be shy about," she teased.
To her amazement he seemed to be at a loss for words. "Well," he began finally, hesitantly, "I know humans have a concept of physical beauty."
"And Time Lords don't?" She asked, surprised.
He shook his head. " Yes, but not in the same sense. Beauty to us is more, how can I explain it, seen by our minds and hearts than with our eyes. We see what's inside the package, not just the wrapping, so to speak. But humans aren't always like that."
"We usually go by looks, care more about style than substance, you mean." She nodded. "I can't disagree with you there: it's an obsession. But why did you." Understanding dawned on her. "You want to know if I. if I find you attractive?"
He shrugged, a casual gesture, but the casualness was belied by his words. "I've never asked anyone. It never mattered before, you see."
"Oh, Doctor," she said. She wanted to laugh again, but she suspected he'd had quite enough of that from her already. Instead she kissed him, and taking his face in her hands, looked deeply into his eyes and said: "I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive, man or Time Lord."
Her reply stunned him, she could tell. He half looked as if he thought she was pulling his leg. She continued. "You know, when I look at you, I don't just see what you look like. I see the person you are: the one who tries to help others, who's gentle and kind, who makes me laugh. All that's part of who you are to me. And it just makes you all the brighter in my eyes."
His slightly wary expression melted into a warm smile. "Thank you, Sarah. That means a great deal to me."
She didn't have time to reply: with a swift catlike movement he neatly flipped them over so that she was on her back beneath him. "What the devil are you playing at?" She laughed.
"It just occurred to me that this arrangement is rather unbalanced," he informed her.
"Oh? How's that?"
He licked his lips and grinned. "One of us has entirely too many clothes on."
Ok, kids, now this bit is really and truly rated R! A Time Lord's normal body temperature is around 60 degrees Fahrenheit, so I've read. A human's is 98.6. It's about to become very warm in the Doctor's room. Ye have been warned.
Oh, and one request. Not to sound whiny, but would some of you please give me some feedback on how this part is going? I've never written Dr. Who, let alone Dr. Who sex, and I'm worried I might be mucking this up. Thank you!
Passion. Lust. Desire.
Those "other" emotions. Ones he didn't have much experience with. He understood them as an abstract concept. But up close and personal: well, there hadn't been much point in it before. Or much opportunity. He'd held each of his companions very dear to his hearts. But it hadn't really occurred to him to be anything more than a friend to them. There had been no real urge to expand the relationship into something more.
All that had changed with Sarah. When he'd first realized his feelings for her were more complex than friendship, more evolved than companionship, he'd been stunned. And because she'd never given any hint that she felt the same, he'd kept it on that more uncomplicated level. And things had been all right: had been grand, really. Until a few days ago when he'd started to unravel.
THAT was not good. Discovering that Sarah shared his feelings. THAT was good.
Especially right now, when she was doing the most amazing things to his ear with her tongue. As she darted that tongue slightly into his ear and slowly withdrew it he shivered. He realized that, although he'd had deeper feelings for her than friendship for a while now, he'd never really seen her in a sexual way before that kiss. Now she was very female, very sexual to him. A part of his mind began analyzing how his perception of her could have altered so dramatically so quickly.
Sarah slid her hands down to the buttons of his black flannel shirt, an action that quickly made it difficult to focus on anything other than what she was doing. He watched her long slim fingers tug open the first button, and the next, and the next.
"Sarah," he said.
"Hush," she replied.
"No, listen to me. Are you sure?"
Her answer was to undo the final button and peel the shirt away from his chest. She smoothed aside the layers of material, her dark eyes drinking in the sight of his exposed skin. She ran the palms of her hands down his muscles to the flat plane of his stomach and back up again, watching the expressions that crossed his face. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being touched: every inch her fingers slid along his flesh caused him to twitch. She smiled. "Does that answer your question?" She asked.
"Quite," he gasped.
She gently pressed him down on the bed until he was stretched out on his back with her straddling him. She continued to caress his bare chest with her fingertips a bit longer before she leaned over him and licked his left nipple. His eyes closed and a low sigh escaped him. She flicked her tongue over the sensitive nub again, then took it into her mouth and very gently sucked on it. He jerked slightly and moaned.
She continued her assault on the other side, then brushed each thumb over a nipple as she trailed her mouth in damp circles from his collarbone to the waistband of his trousers. He was twisting beneath her, breath coming out in small pants. She grinned. He was a babe in the woods, a babe who was about to meet a wolf.
He opened his eyes as he felt her unzipping his trousers, raised his head slightly to watch and discovered that she was staring at him intently. Her eyes never leaving his, she slid them down and off his body. He laid back and shut his eyes again, enjoying the feeling of her touch. She gazed at him from head to toe. and abruptly giggled.
He shot up on the bed with an indignant expression. "DO YOU MIND!"
She pushed him back down with a laugh. "Black! All black!"
He titled his head, puzzled. "What?"
"All black! Your shirt, your shoes, your pants. even your underwear is black! When did you decide to become the Gothic Time Lord poster child?"
"Oh. that. I'll have you know black is very fashionable! Goes with anything, never out of style."
"Right. Then why don't you wear black all the time and not tweed and burgundy?"
He settled down, eyes flicking over her as he considered the question. "I suppose I never felt the urge to," he said at length.
Her expression darkened. She didn't have to be a Time Lord to understand the symbolism of black. Sadness, mourning. He'd never felt like doing those things. Until now.
"Yes, well, let's see if we can't get you to feel the urge to wear something a bit more cheery, eh?" She smiled at him as she slowly snaked her fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers.
"There is nothing wrong with.Rassilon's Sash! What ARE you doing!" He gasped, feeling as if a fire had suddenly been started in his groin.
Sarah grinned at him, her fingers still curving around his member. "Oh, did you like that?" She asked innocently. Outside, she was cool as a cucumber. Inside, she was having fits.
"Like that, indeed!" He exclaimed. He was about to say more, but she stroked him again, a smooth quick slide of her hand. The words caught in his throat and were replaced by a moan. She bent over him, capturing his mouth with hers at the exact same moment that she caressed him once more. Her tongue slid past his parted lips, explored the inside of his mouth as her hands explored the length of his shaft. He wasn't fully aroused yet, but he had definitely bought a ticket!
She chuckled. "You Time Lords do take some extra effort to start up, don't you!"
If he voiced a reply, it was muffled by her kisses. She traveled down his body and back up again, caressing him, getting to know the texture and tastes of him, from sweet and spiced to where he had a tiny patch of freckles on his left shoulder blade. Her hands and lips and teeth and tongue explored the angles of his arms, the clean lines of his legs, the dark curls of hair on his lower stomach. She stroked his elbows, his eyebrows, his feet. Gently, she wound him into a state of relaxed desire, not stopping her attentions until he was trembling beneath her. Only then did she remove the last barrier, her eyes soft and full of longing as he raised his hips to help her strip the piece of clothing away.
"Sarah."
His voice was so dark, so deep it made her shiver. Her hands skimmed down him until they came to rest at the junction of his thighs. She felt him tremble again as she settled her hands on his hips. There seemed to be a questioning in his eyes, something he wanted to say, or to hear her say.
"Doctor? What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
"You have that look about you."
"I was. I just." His voice trailed off uncertainly.
"Come on, out with it. It's not like you've got anything left to be shy about," she teased.
To her amazement he seemed to be at a loss for words. "Well," he began finally, hesitantly, "I know humans have a concept of physical beauty."
"And Time Lords don't?" She asked, surprised.
He shook his head. " Yes, but not in the same sense. Beauty to us is more, how can I explain it, seen by our minds and hearts than with our eyes. We see what's inside the package, not just the wrapping, so to speak. But humans aren't always like that."
"We usually go by looks, care more about style than substance, you mean." She nodded. "I can't disagree with you there: it's an obsession. But why did you." Understanding dawned on her. "You want to know if I. if I find you attractive?"
He shrugged, a casual gesture, but the casualness was belied by his words. "I've never asked anyone. It never mattered before, you see."
"Oh, Doctor," she said. She wanted to laugh again, but she suspected he'd had quite enough of that from her already. Instead she kissed him, and taking his face in her hands, looked deeply into his eyes and said: "I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive, man or Time Lord."
Her reply stunned him, she could tell. He half looked as if he thought she was pulling his leg. She continued. "You know, when I look at you, I don't just see what you look like. I see the person you are: the one who tries to help others, who's gentle and kind, who makes me laugh. All that's part of who you are to me. And it just makes you all the brighter in my eyes."
His slightly wary expression melted into a warm smile. "Thank you, Sarah. That means a great deal to me."
She didn't have time to reply: with a swift catlike movement he neatly flipped them over so that she was on her back beneath him. "What the devil are you playing at?" She laughed.
"It just occurred to me that this arrangement is rather unbalanced," he informed her.
"Oh? How's that?"
He licked his lips and grinned. "One of us has entirely too many clothes on."