Identity Theft Part 4 , NC-17, 10/Rose
Title: Identity Theft Part 4
author: briodenebuliser
rated: NC-17 for lots of sex
characters: 10/Rose
Word count: 883
disclaimer: BBC owns these characters
summary: Jumping into her universe with the intention of wiring Rose's house with a protective barrier against alien intruders, he is unwittingly seduced by a drunk Rose, who assumed he's the Clone 10. Not wanting her to suspect otherwise, he goes along with the game, feeling both guilty for deceiving her while comforting himself with the fact that, at any second, aliens could come and hurt her, so in a sense he should stick around to protect her while she's home alone.
Unzipping his fly, she got down on her knees and began to pump his cock in her hand. Her lips, only a few inches away, smiled knowingly, filled with small white teeth.
Don't put it in your mouth, don't put it in your mouth, he thought, his cock growing steadily harder and darker, though at the same time
imagining how her tongue would feel. She licked her lips, though never motioning to open them.
Pushing him down to the cold floor, she straddled his aching cock, slicking it up with her cunt. Her head fell back with the pleasure
of this friction, grinding against him gently but insistently. "Doncha want to come back to bed?" she said, her face flushed.
All the time they'd been together back on the ship, and she had to ask that now? In an ordinary house, when anyone could walk in?
She felt amazing against him, and he imagined what she would feel like inside, where her muscles roiled to feel his hardness, feel the satisfaction that only a cock could give her. She leaned a hand on the nearby sink, moving wetly against him, lost in abstraction, and he thought he would come all over himself if she didn't stop.
He closed his eyes and thought as rationally as could be expected with a nymphet's ripe breasts dangling in his face. She was pretty
close to orgasm, all things considering, he could probably get away with ten, twenty seconds tops, of penetration to get her off.
After all, she thought he was someone else. He didn't have the right to her.
A tree limb clicked against the window, and he started, thinking it was a burglar. "Yes, let's head back to the bedroom." he said.
She lept onto the bed, tearing her shirt off onto the floor, her arms open to accept him. On the television screen, hundreds of
scantily clad Greek soldiers were bravely dying in battle, horses screaming as the pikemen felled them.
What kind of Faustian bargain had he made to deserve this? Can you stick your hand in a blender and walk away from it?
He took off his pants, sliding onto the sheets next to her. Placing a hand on each of her knees, he lay his head next to hers, and tried
to enter her.
As wet as she was, she was so small that he had to go very slowly, first placing the tip in, and slowly pushing the rest an inch at a
time. He would have continued this slow pace had her hands not grabbed his buttocks and forced him to go faster.
"Ah FINALLY." she said, her teeth gleaming. He closed his eyes and counted ten strokes, completely oblivious to whether or not this was
enough for her, and pulled out. She gave him a look.
"What's this? Back you go!" she said, grabbing his cock and forcing it back inside. This time he counted to twenty before attempting to
pull out, but she would have none of that, her legs wrapping around him like vines on a trellis.
A car drove past the window, had his clone come home already? How much noise were they making anyway?
"Why won't you stay?" she hissed, her tongue beneath her teeth, "It's waaaaaaaarm inside."
She squeezed down on him, and he cried out, for it felt fantastic and painful at the same time. Throwing all chivalry to the wind, he
gave up and began to screw her as hard as he could, kissing her, biting her, lapping her sweat like a dying man in the desert.
He no longer cared, he no longer thought about the future or the consquences, only the sweetness wrapped around his cock that begged to be fed.
She scratched his back, overjoyed at the sudden attention. "Yes yes, twist it you bastard!" she cried, as he pushed her thighs apart
to hit even deeper. "Yes, harder, harder, ooooh I need this!" she said.
Grabbing her hands, he thrust them against the headboard, their fingers intertwined, their hips slamming together, forgetting that
she was someone else's entirely.
Her cunt was exquisite, and judging by the way her face blushed, they would climax together, they would scream their pleasure together, and afterwards, they would do it all over again, on the bed, on the floor, making sweaty body patterns against the wall, he didn't have to sleep, he could screw her brains out, and he wondered if her hungry cunt would ever let him go.
He longed to spend the endless night watching her breasts undulate beneath him, her face screwed up in concentration, legs grasping him as if she'd die without him.
Just then, one of her fingers felt his hand, and she looked up at it. "John," she said, "Where's the ring I gave you?"
Her expression changed from lust to bewilderment to recognition, and finally, to despair, as she realized who he was. Or who he wasn't.
But it was too late. In the slow, viscous fashion of time during climax, her hips were operating on their own, pumping against his,
her cunt closing down to what seemed impossibly small as she came, crushing his cock like a vise as he continued to thrust into her,
his passion rocketing, spilling into her, at the same time that he wanted to apologize.
But she was so warm, so tight inside, he couldn't help himself, and with a cry of pain, jammed into her again and again, the climax
blinding him as his thrusts filled her up, her body shuddering against him, his tears splashing on her perfect breasts.
author: briodenebuliser
rated: NC-17 for lots of sex
characters: 10/Rose
Word count: 883
disclaimer: BBC owns these characters
summary: Jumping into her universe with the intention of wiring Rose's house with a protective barrier against alien intruders, he is unwittingly seduced by a drunk Rose, who assumed he's the Clone 10. Not wanting her to suspect otherwise, he goes along with the game, feeling both guilty for deceiving her while comforting himself with the fact that, at any second, aliens could come and hurt her, so in a sense he should stick around to protect her while she's home alone.
Unzipping his fly, she got down on her knees and began to pump his cock in her hand. Her lips, only a few inches away, smiled knowingly, filled with small white teeth.
Don't put it in your mouth, don't put it in your mouth, he thought, his cock growing steadily harder and darker, though at the same time
imagining how her tongue would feel. She licked her lips, though never motioning to open them.
Pushing him down to the cold floor, she straddled his aching cock, slicking it up with her cunt. Her head fell back with the pleasure
of this friction, grinding against him gently but insistently. "Doncha want to come back to bed?" she said, her face flushed.
All the time they'd been together back on the ship, and she had to ask that now? In an ordinary house, when anyone could walk in?
She felt amazing against him, and he imagined what she would feel like inside, where her muscles roiled to feel his hardness, feel the satisfaction that only a cock could give her. She leaned a hand on the nearby sink, moving wetly against him, lost in abstraction, and he thought he would come all over himself if she didn't stop.
He closed his eyes and thought as rationally as could be expected with a nymphet's ripe breasts dangling in his face. She was pretty
close to orgasm, all things considering, he could probably get away with ten, twenty seconds tops, of penetration to get her off.
After all, she thought he was someone else. He didn't have the right to her.
A tree limb clicked against the window, and he started, thinking it was a burglar. "Yes, let's head back to the bedroom." he said.
She lept onto the bed, tearing her shirt off onto the floor, her arms open to accept him. On the television screen, hundreds of
scantily clad Greek soldiers were bravely dying in battle, horses screaming as the pikemen felled them.
What kind of Faustian bargain had he made to deserve this? Can you stick your hand in a blender and walk away from it?
He took off his pants, sliding onto the sheets next to her. Placing a hand on each of her knees, he lay his head next to hers, and tried
to enter her.
As wet as she was, she was so small that he had to go very slowly, first placing the tip in, and slowly pushing the rest an inch at a
time. He would have continued this slow pace had her hands not grabbed his buttocks and forced him to go faster.
"Ah FINALLY." she said, her teeth gleaming. He closed his eyes and counted ten strokes, completely oblivious to whether or not this was
enough for her, and pulled out. She gave him a look.
"What's this? Back you go!" she said, grabbing his cock and forcing it back inside. This time he counted to twenty before attempting to
pull out, but she would have none of that, her legs wrapping around him like vines on a trellis.
A car drove past the window, had his clone come home already? How much noise were they making anyway?
"Why won't you stay?" she hissed, her tongue beneath her teeth, "It's waaaaaaaarm inside."
She squeezed down on him, and he cried out, for it felt fantastic and painful at the same time. Throwing all chivalry to the wind, he
gave up and began to screw her as hard as he could, kissing her, biting her, lapping her sweat like a dying man in the desert.
He no longer cared, he no longer thought about the future or the consquences, only the sweetness wrapped around his cock that begged to be fed.
She scratched his back, overjoyed at the sudden attention. "Yes yes, twist it you bastard!" she cried, as he pushed her thighs apart
to hit even deeper. "Yes, harder, harder, ooooh I need this!" she said.
Grabbing her hands, he thrust them against the headboard, their fingers intertwined, their hips slamming together, forgetting that
she was someone else's entirely.
Her cunt was exquisite, and judging by the way her face blushed, they would climax together, they would scream their pleasure together, and afterwards, they would do it all over again, on the bed, on the floor, making sweaty body patterns against the wall, he didn't have to sleep, he could screw her brains out, and he wondered if her hungry cunt would ever let him go.
He longed to spend the endless night watching her breasts undulate beneath him, her face screwed up in concentration, legs grasping him as if she'd die without him.
Just then, one of her fingers felt his hand, and she looked up at it. "John," she said, "Where's the ring I gave you?"
Her expression changed from lust to bewilderment to recognition, and finally, to despair, as she realized who he was. Or who he wasn't.
But it was too late. In the slow, viscous fashion of time during climax, her hips were operating on their own, pumping against his,
her cunt closing down to what seemed impossibly small as she came, crushing his cock like a vise as he continued to thrust into her,
his passion rocketing, spilling into her, at the same time that he wanted to apologize.
But she was so warm, so tight inside, he couldn't help himself, and with a cry of pain, jammed into her again and again, the climax
blinding him as his thrusts filled her up, her body shuddering against him, his tears splashing on her perfect breasts.