Ohnoez, she's having one of her hair-brained ideas again!
So, in brief, here is the story: I just found today (at work, no less!) a free-for-the-taking vintage edition of The Joy of Sex. There is no end to how amused I am by this. And, honest-to-goodness my first thought was, "How can I use this for ficcing purposes?"
Well, the answer is right here.
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Rose lays against the sheets, blissed-out, and in her opinion, well-fucked. The Doctor is still dragging kisses across her heated skin, blue eyes blazing when he looks at her as if to gauge her reactions.
"My toes?" she asks, in slurred wonder.
"Haven't kissed 'em before," he observes. "Can't say I've kissed you everywhere 'til they're done, too."
"That's sweet," she mutters. He's got himself twisted around her and those narrow hips are tempting her to renewed energy. She smirks and decides its only fair to kiss him everywhere, too. But she starts with what's right in front of her.
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