Push It.
Song: Push It. Artist: Salt N Pepa.
Pairing: Sarah Jane/(older) Maria.
Rating. PWP. Plain and simple. Mature. 18. Brain explosion!
Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4onJ7Z2MLI
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Maria’s teeth zeroed in upon Sarah Jane’s earlobe in a way that made the older woman mewl like a kitten.
‘Ah,’ Sarah Jane said, tilting her head back, discarding her work immediately, ‘Maria, there’s a bed downstairs’. Maria’s mouth ghosted down from her ear to her jaw, seeming not to listen as she tasted the woman’s skin.
‘I’ve thought of taking you on this desk for longer than you’d care to imagine,’ she whispered against the journalists skin, and felt hands grip tightly around her waist. ‘Let me have you here, in the attic’, she purred persuasively, pushing Sarah Jane back against the desk.
Sarah Jane slumped against her desk, knocking aside papers and research as Maria nipped her way down her throat. ‘Have I ever been able to say no to you?’ she breathed, looking at the woman through half lidded eyes.
In answer, Maria dropped to her knees before the woman, looking up into eyes of pure want, before slowly pulling Sarah Jane’s knickers down her legs, glad that the woman had, for once, worn a skirt. She could feel the woman’s desire soaked into the material in her hands, could feel its source when her hands slid over silky thighs and stroked through wet folds.
‘Mmm, please,’ Sarah Jane panted, feeling weak as she trembled beneath the woman’s touch. She had to lie down before she fell down, so she did so, knocking aside the few remaining papers as she lay against her desk, offering herself up to the younger woman who wielded such power over her.
Sarah Jane would have begged for it, had Maria asked her to. But Maria seemed to sense her desire, her sheer, animalistic need, and took mercy, sliding two fingers inside of her with care. Maria’s kisses returned, hot and wet, and Sarah Jane’s back arched above the wood below her, her hands gripping helplessly at the desk. The feel of the assault of overstimulation; of lips and tongue and fingers, drew her precariously close to bliss. She forced herself to wait, to try and prolong this feeling of sheer ecstasy.
Maria’s fingers twisted inside her, curled until slowly, excruciatingly slowly, they began to rub and press all those little places inside her that made her want to scream. Heat, pure and enthralling, unfurled through Sarah Jane’s limbs, and she was forced into focusing on something within her, something that Maria unlocked every time she touched her this way. Her body undulated, rising and falling in time to the curl and press of Maria’s fingers, and the slow lap of her tongue; bringing her closer and closer to the inevitable, something she could no longer contain.
Her legs locked around Maria’s head, her back arched near painfully off of the desk, as she came with an incoherent cry, voice echoing in the attic.