(no subject)
Title: Of Science and Sensation.
Rating: ADULT.
Genre: Fluff, romance and sexy snuggles.
Characters and Pairings: The Tenth Doctor, Rose; Rose/Ten.
Spoilers: Nope.
Author's Note: I don't usually write adult stories, because I fear that they often just come down to...well, sex, which has been written about since before the dawn of time. Nevertheless, this demanded to be written and I hope that it presents something of a new angle.
Summary: The Doctor is a man of science, but sometimes scientific explanation and description can't ever hope to do certain things justice. One of those things is making love to Rose Tyler.
. . . .
Sexual intercourse, the Doctor thought as Rose, who was knelt before him, pushed her fingers into the flesh of his bum, is a very funny thing. She tugged him closer and began to lick and nibble at the hollow above his hip; a very funny thing indeed.
It wasn’t new to him, but it also wasn’t a constant in his life. At least not until Rose and run!
Suddenly she moved her mouth upwards and across ah-just...just...yes! there and his thoughts derailed. She sucked softly at the skin of his stomach, just above the tell-tale trail of hair and muscles low in his belly jumped and quivered anticipatorily. He pondered briefly the miraculous wonder that was touch; how her soft lips and warm tongue and familiar squeezing hands all conspired against him in the most delightful of ways.
He wasn’t wired up like a human; he could withstand a lot more in the bedroom than Rose (although not half as much as he’d thought he could, the little minx). If he slipped a hand between her thighs, nibbled her collarbones or pressed his hips to her bum, he knew that she’d gasp and tremble and that her legs would attain the molecular consistency of jelly.
There was just so much to touch and see and feel and lick and caress and squeeze during intercourse that his curious mind never knew quite what to focus on first.
As such, he was thinking very much of her lips when she slipped her fingers between his legs, tracing up and down the insides of his thighs. Such soft lips, must kiss th- oh, yes, I like tha-ah yes touch…her fingers brushed lightly against his balls and he gasped, gulped when she cupped them, gently moving them about.
Whenever he felt like his thoughts were running too far away from him (or when he felt like he was going to come far too soon), he tried to focus on the science of intercourse.
It’s all about chemicals. Pheromones, hormones, endorphins. Right now, her body is getting ready to make room, to accept and allow. His erection twitched when her hair brushed over it and he grinned at himself. My body is preparing too.
It’s all about nerves and their bodily highways; one touch here zings and snakes and twists and darts through limbs, ends up there and result in that.
She started to drop her kisses lower and lower, making them sloppier and somehow even more suggestive, and his plan to focus on science went out the metaphorical window with a very satisfied groan.
He chanced a glance down and had to breathe in deeply when met with the sight of her golden head moving this way and that. As if she knew he was watching her, she sat back on her heels and looked up at him, her eyes wide and dark.
It was always at this moment, the moment when she really looked at him and he really looked at her, that he remembered that science really was peripheral in the bedroom. It had everything to do with touching her, everything to do with looking at her, everything to do with her. It had everything to do with the knowledge that she encouraged him to do so, wanted him to do so, cried out for him to do so.
It might not have been difficult in the same vein as saving a planet from a dastardly foe, but finding somebody to love who loved in return was altogether harder. Certainly more frightening. It was impossibly empowering, knowing that he was loved.
She smiled up at him. Not suggestively - it wasn’t a mischievous grin nor a knowing smirk, it was a simple curving of the lips; demonstrative of her happiness at being around him. His penis twitched, lifted just that little bit higher into the air to bump into her chin.
He quite simply couldn’t take it any longer. Glad that he’d kept his little joke about her weak legs to himself, he sunk down to the ground beside her and wrapped his arms around her. There was a half-hearted and mutual attempt to shimmy backwards onto the bed but it was quickly abandoned in favour of the more easily accessible floor beside it. The Doctor flopped gracelessly onto his back with a light thud against the carpet.
Scooting up his body, Rose straddled him, the warm wetness between her legs coming to rest on his right thigh. With a sigh, she found a comfortable position, his erection pressed up against her belly. Knowing that he was looking, she curled her fingers around his length and smiled at the way he hardened beneath her touch. She watched in fascination as skin slid up and down underneath her hand.
He gasped, looking up at her with dark eyes that shone with affection.
Her fingers were gentle as they stroked along the shaft, her thumb firm as it traced along the underside, following the faint trace of a vein. She twisted her wrist and rubbed her palm over the flared head, smearing the oily liquid that had seeped out against his skin.
He moaned, a happy rumbling noise from deep within his belly and pulled her closer, desperate for touch. Her breasts bounced above him and he leant up to capture a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it gently. The only noise in the room was their hitched breathing and the soft wet noises his lips made against her skin.
Eventually, he released her nipple with a gentle bite and she collapsed over him, sandwiching his erection between their bellies.
All was silent for a moment as they both caught their breath. She didn’t kiss him, but ghosted her lips and nose over his features slowly, watching his eyes as his eyes watched hers. Hands quested for purchase, challenging each other to hold on more tightly; everything that could be caressed and touched and clung to was, until neither of them could wait any longer.
Wet kisses and nibbles were trailed up his neck, along his cheek until finally her lips met his in question. He strained upwards to meet her mouth and kissed her warmly, then rested his head back on the floor to watch her.
She sat up, freeing his erection. It bobbed into the air until she curled her hand around it. Lifting her hips up, she shuffled somewhat awkwardly up his body to position herself above him.
She bit her bottom lip in concentration, breathed in deeply and slowly sat back down, letting him slide into her. When there was nowhere left to go, she let all the air out of her lungs in one great exhalation.
He let out a soft cry and she smiled knowingly. He enjoyed this more than almost anything else, more than kissing her, caressing her, coming inside of her; he liked to watch himself disappear into her body.
She rested her hands beside his shoulders, arched her back to gain more control of her hips and lifted up off him. She felt the pressure of him inside of her recede and waited, watched him as he gazed at where they were joined, his mouth slack and eyes wide. With a smile, she lowered herself back down.
Eventually, as she’d known he would, he shook himself from his trance and set about touching her. His hands were everywhere, resting on her hips to guide her movements, cupping her breasts, smoothing over her belly, sneaking between her legs. He did anything and everything that he could think of to make her happy, to create the blessed friction that they both sought.
When the pace reached something near desperate, he pushed up from the ground and settled into a sitting position beneath her. He turned them slightly to rest his back against the bed and began to push up into her almost frantically, one arm wrapped around her, the other resting on the mattress behind him to help his thrusts.
Pushing all thoughts of carpet-burn from her mind, Rose shifted her knees beside his hips and gripped his shoulders to help fuel her movements. It was impossible how wonderful it felt, how wonderful he felt and her womb twinged as warmth started to spread through her.
He cried out softly and pushed up into her, holding onto her so tightly it almost hurt. Again he cried out. Again. Again. Again. Again, he thrust up, pushing against the bed so hard that it slid backwards a little. Once more, one final time and then, with his back arched and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he came, releasing into her with a groan.
She was so focussed on watching his orgasm play out that she didn’t notice his lips on her breasts and his fingers between their bodies until it was too late to prolong anything.
Twist, curl, slide, rub. Lick, suck, nibble, tease.
The warmth that had steadily grown low in her belly suddenly spilled out, coursing through her until she thought she would burst. Her toes curled, her womb fluttered and her eyes squeezed shut. She cried out softly as everything inside of her seemed to clench and pulse and swell, hoping to draw him more tightly to her.
Eventually, in the quiet of the room, their three hearts slowed. They stayed curled together, she with her cheek against the top of his thick, messy, ruffled mop of hair, and he with his brow pressed to her chest.
When he sensed that she was about to fall asleep, he slipped his hands to her hips and picked her up and off him. A few awkward adjustments later saw them snuggled together on the bed, a sleepy, sweaty mess of limbs. It didn’t take Rose long to drift off, and the Doctor propped himself up on his elbow to look at her.
“Chemicals. Nerves. Action. Reaction. Pheromones. Endorphins. Hormones. Science,” he whispered to himself. “Touch. Kiss. Lick. Hug. Squeeze. Hold. Nibble. You.”
He smiled.
“You.”
. . . .
EEEEK! *goes to pull duvet over self* Sorry, I'm shy, me. Adult fic always seems to be so...impossibly spectacular and I'm afraid that I didn't deny the cliche here.
Rating: ADULT.
Genre: Fluff, romance and sexy snuggles.
Characters and Pairings: The Tenth Doctor, Rose; Rose/Ten.
Spoilers: Nope.
Author's Note: I don't usually write adult stories, because I fear that they often just come down to...well, sex, which has been written about since before the dawn of time. Nevertheless, this demanded to be written and I hope that it presents something of a new angle.
Summary: The Doctor is a man of science, but sometimes scientific explanation and description can't ever hope to do certain things justice. One of those things is making love to Rose Tyler.
. . . .
Sexual intercourse, the Doctor thought as Rose, who was knelt before him, pushed her fingers into the flesh of his bum, is a very funny thing. She tugged him closer and began to lick and nibble at the hollow above his hip; a very funny thing indeed.
It wasn’t new to him, but it also wasn’t a constant in his life. At least not until Rose and run!
Suddenly she moved her mouth upwards and across ah-just...just...yes! there and his thoughts derailed. She sucked softly at the skin of his stomach, just above the tell-tale trail of hair and muscles low in his belly jumped and quivered anticipatorily. He pondered briefly the miraculous wonder that was touch; how her soft lips and warm tongue and familiar squeezing hands all conspired against him in the most delightful of ways.
He wasn’t wired up like a human; he could withstand a lot more in the bedroom than Rose (although not half as much as he’d thought he could, the little minx). If he slipped a hand between her thighs, nibbled her collarbones or pressed his hips to her bum, he knew that she’d gasp and tremble and that her legs would attain the molecular consistency of jelly.
There was just so much to touch and see and feel and lick and caress and squeeze during intercourse that his curious mind never knew quite what to focus on first.
As such, he was thinking very much of her lips when she slipped her fingers between his legs, tracing up and down the insides of his thighs. Such soft lips, must kiss th- oh, yes, I like tha-ah yes touch…her fingers brushed lightly against his balls and he gasped, gulped when she cupped them, gently moving them about.
Whenever he felt like his thoughts were running too far away from him (or when he felt like he was going to come far too soon), he tried to focus on the science of intercourse.
It’s all about chemicals. Pheromones, hormones, endorphins. Right now, her body is getting ready to make room, to accept and allow. His erection twitched when her hair brushed over it and he grinned at himself. My body is preparing too.
It’s all about nerves and their bodily highways; one touch here zings and snakes and twists and darts through limbs, ends up there and result in that.
She started to drop her kisses lower and lower, making them sloppier and somehow even more suggestive, and his plan to focus on science went out the metaphorical window with a very satisfied groan.
He chanced a glance down and had to breathe in deeply when met with the sight of her golden head moving this way and that. As if she knew he was watching her, she sat back on her heels and looked up at him, her eyes wide and dark.
It was always at this moment, the moment when she really looked at him and he really looked at her, that he remembered that science really was peripheral in the bedroom. It had everything to do with touching her, everything to do with looking at her, everything to do with her. It had everything to do with the knowledge that she encouraged him to do so, wanted him to do so, cried out for him to do so.
It might not have been difficult in the same vein as saving a planet from a dastardly foe, but finding somebody to love who loved in return was altogether harder. Certainly more frightening. It was impossibly empowering, knowing that he was loved.
She smiled up at him. Not suggestively - it wasn’t a mischievous grin nor a knowing smirk, it was a simple curving of the lips; demonstrative of her happiness at being around him. His penis twitched, lifted just that little bit higher into the air to bump into her chin.
He quite simply couldn’t take it any longer. Glad that he’d kept his little joke about her weak legs to himself, he sunk down to the ground beside her and wrapped his arms around her. There was a half-hearted and mutual attempt to shimmy backwards onto the bed but it was quickly abandoned in favour of the more easily accessible floor beside it. The Doctor flopped gracelessly onto his back with a light thud against the carpet.
Scooting up his body, Rose straddled him, the warm wetness between her legs coming to rest on his right thigh. With a sigh, she found a comfortable position, his erection pressed up against her belly. Knowing that he was looking, she curled her fingers around his length and smiled at the way he hardened beneath her touch. She watched in fascination as skin slid up and down underneath her hand.
He gasped, looking up at her with dark eyes that shone with affection.
Her fingers were gentle as they stroked along the shaft, her thumb firm as it traced along the underside, following the faint trace of a vein. She twisted her wrist and rubbed her palm over the flared head, smearing the oily liquid that had seeped out against his skin.
He moaned, a happy rumbling noise from deep within his belly and pulled her closer, desperate for touch. Her breasts bounced above him and he leant up to capture a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it gently. The only noise in the room was their hitched breathing and the soft wet noises his lips made against her skin.
Eventually, he released her nipple with a gentle bite and she collapsed over him, sandwiching his erection between their bellies.
All was silent for a moment as they both caught their breath. She didn’t kiss him, but ghosted her lips and nose over his features slowly, watching his eyes as his eyes watched hers. Hands quested for purchase, challenging each other to hold on more tightly; everything that could be caressed and touched and clung to was, until neither of them could wait any longer.
Wet kisses and nibbles were trailed up his neck, along his cheek until finally her lips met his in question. He strained upwards to meet her mouth and kissed her warmly, then rested his head back on the floor to watch her.
She sat up, freeing his erection. It bobbed into the air until she curled her hand around it. Lifting her hips up, she shuffled somewhat awkwardly up his body to position herself above him.
She bit her bottom lip in concentration, breathed in deeply and slowly sat back down, letting him slide into her. When there was nowhere left to go, she let all the air out of her lungs in one great exhalation.
He let out a soft cry and she smiled knowingly. He enjoyed this more than almost anything else, more than kissing her, caressing her, coming inside of her; he liked to watch himself disappear into her body.
She rested her hands beside his shoulders, arched her back to gain more control of her hips and lifted up off him. She felt the pressure of him inside of her recede and waited, watched him as he gazed at where they were joined, his mouth slack and eyes wide. With a smile, she lowered herself back down.
Eventually, as she’d known he would, he shook himself from his trance and set about touching her. His hands were everywhere, resting on her hips to guide her movements, cupping her breasts, smoothing over her belly, sneaking between her legs. He did anything and everything that he could think of to make her happy, to create the blessed friction that they both sought.
When the pace reached something near desperate, he pushed up from the ground and settled into a sitting position beneath her. He turned them slightly to rest his back against the bed and began to push up into her almost frantically, one arm wrapped around her, the other resting on the mattress behind him to help his thrusts.
Pushing all thoughts of carpet-burn from her mind, Rose shifted her knees beside his hips and gripped his shoulders to help fuel her movements. It was impossible how wonderful it felt, how wonderful he felt and her womb twinged as warmth started to spread through her.
He cried out softly and pushed up into her, holding onto her so tightly it almost hurt. Again he cried out. Again. Again. Again. Again, he thrust up, pushing against the bed so hard that it slid backwards a little. Once more, one final time and then, with his back arched and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he came, releasing into her with a groan.
She was so focussed on watching his orgasm play out that she didn’t notice his lips on her breasts and his fingers between their bodies until it was too late to prolong anything.
Twist, curl, slide, rub. Lick, suck, nibble, tease.
The warmth that had steadily grown low in her belly suddenly spilled out, coursing through her until she thought she would burst. Her toes curled, her womb fluttered and her eyes squeezed shut. She cried out softly as everything inside of her seemed to clench and pulse and swell, hoping to draw him more tightly to her.
Eventually, in the quiet of the room, their three hearts slowed. They stayed curled together, she with her cheek against the top of his thick, messy, ruffled mop of hair, and he with his brow pressed to her chest.
When he sensed that she was about to fall asleep, he slipped his hands to her hips and picked her up and off him. A few awkward adjustments later saw them snuggled together on the bed, a sleepy, sweaty mess of limbs. It didn’t take Rose long to drift off, and the Doctor propped himself up on his elbow to look at her.
“Chemicals. Nerves. Action. Reaction. Pheromones. Endorphins. Hormones. Science,” he whispered to himself. “Touch. Kiss. Lick. Hug. Squeeze. Hold. Nibble. You.”
He smiled.
“You.”
. . . .
EEEEK! *goes to pull duvet over self* Sorry, I'm shy, me. Adult fic always seems to be so...impossibly spectacular and I'm afraid that I didn't deny the cliche here.