Potter's Wheel
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/170442.html">Potter's Wheel by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha/Ten | Rating: NC-17 | Spoilers: S3 & S4)
Title: Potter's Wheel
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Seasons 3 and 4
Summary: The Doctor interrupts Martha throwing pots - with satisfactory results
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: Someone posted the prompt Ten/Martha - Potter's wheel (as in the film Ghost) on the kinkmeme sizeofthatthing and the plot bunnies went hyper.
~~~~~~
Martha set the clay down on the potter's wheel, then poured a little water over it, just enough to moisten it so she could work with it. When the UNIT psychiatrist had suggested she take up pottery as one way of dealing with the effects of the year she'd spent walking the Earth, she'd been far from enthusiastic.
"I don't need occupational therapy!" Martha snapped.
"Are you sure?" asked Dr Andrews mildly.
She opened her mouth to retort angrily, then closed it again with a snap; she'd been sleeping badly, eating poorly and almost constantly angry in the past few months. It was clear she needed to do something to deal with her stress, and pottery was as good as anything.
"Okay, I'll give it a go," she sighed wearily.
Martha set the wheel turning and began shaping the lump of clay before her. Her first few attempts had been misshapen blobs that were completely unrecognisable as anything, but after over a year of practice she had long mastered the knack of giving the clay the form she wanted, and she found it a good way to unwind if things were getting a bit much at work.
She was completely engrossed in her work when the Doctor came in; he was on one of his periodic visits following the business with the Daleks and Davros. He had taken Sarah Jane's comment about his having a family on Earth to heart (to the surprise of both Sarah Jane and Martha), and he turned up to see both women at irregular intervals, staying with one or other of them for 24 hours or so before disappearing again. He had become very close to Martha after losing Donna, particularly when he'd found out that Tom broken off their engagement, and she had been grateful for his support.
"Hey," he said softly, pulling up a stool and settling beside her to watch her.
"Hey yourself." She tilted her head to one side, wondering if her pot was going out of true.
The Doctor leaned forwards and kissed her cheek. "Did you sleep?" he asked.
They had talked until nearly 1 am after he'd turned up in time for dinner the night before.
"Mmm." Martha could feel his breath tickling her neck and tried to suppress a shiver of response.
"That's going to go," he said, reaching out to guide the clay back into line again, his long, slender fingers sliding over hers in a sensual manner, causing her to bite back a whimper.
"I haven't done this for years," he said quietly.
"Which famous potter did you teach?" she asked, teasing him in the hope of distracting herself, if not him, because he was tangling his fingers in hers in order to shape the clay, and she was beginning to feel aroused by his touches.
"No one," he answered, taking her question seriously. He slid his hands up to her wrists, his thumbs stroking hers as he gave her complete control of the clay again, and she half wanted him to move his hands away, and half wanted him to touch her more, and in different places.
"No one?" she asked; it was useless to think of the Doctor that way, and she had tried not to for quite a while now, although having his hands holding her wrists and his chest pressed against her back as she tried to shape the clay was making it hard to concentrate on anything but how good it felt to be touched.
Then he kissed the side of her neck, before lapping at her skin, and she felt as if something had snapped inside her.
"Doctor!" she gasped, "What - Oh!" Her question went unasked as he nipped at her earlobe, his hands taking hold of hers as he pulled her body flush against his own.
"Martha Jones," he said softly, turning her body towards his so he could kiss her softly on the mouth, "you are such a beautiful, sexy woman." He kissed her again, less softly and more urgently this time.
Martha whimpered properly, feeling as if every nerve was on fire from his touches as he deepened their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth and over hers before curling up to caress the roof of her mouth. The clay was forgotten as he turned her around in his arms, then picked her up off the stool. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around his neck, heedless of the wet clay on them, and her legs, which were only clad in shorts because of the heat of the last few days, wrapped around his waist. He, in turn, wrapped his arms across her back, pressing her body tighter against his own; he could feel her hardening nipples against his chest, despite the cotton of her bra and top, and his own shirt between.
Despite his wiry strength and Martha's small stature, he eventually had to set her down on her feet, and she immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, having only belatedly noticed he'd ditched his tie and jacket before coming to find her in what had formerly been the dining room of her house, but was now a combination of study and lab.
Martha got his shirt undone, and the Doctor stepped back from her to take it off, his dark, intense gaze never leaving her flushed face. Then he grabbed the damp towel she kept by the potter's wheel and used it to rub the worst of the clay off her arms and hands, and his own; she moaned as he slid the wet cloth across her skin, feeling her desire increase. He discarded the towel and pulled her close again, dipping his head to kiss her hungrily, and she lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip so that her heat was pressing against his hardness, and he groaned deeply.
"Tease," he muttered when he released her mouth.
"Pot, kettle," she murmured, running her fingertips up the smooth planes of his back, stroking his shoulder blades, then sliding her hands over his shoulders and stroking them down his chest to his waist.
It was the Doctor's turn to whimper when her small, clever hands brushed carefully over the bulge in his trousers before dropping aside as she pressed her body back against his.
As she kissed him again, he quickly unbuttoned her loose, short-sleeved shirt and pulled it off, then he unfastened her shorts and slid them down off her hips. She stepped out of them without breaking their kiss, which impressed him, then she did break the kiss so she could mouth his nipples instead.
"God Martha!" he gasped as she laved her tongue over his peaks until they were hard little nubs.
She looked up at him, without moving her mouth, her eyes full of mischief as well as desire, and he felt his cock hardening even further. His hands found the fastening of her bra and undid it, and she pulled away from him long enough to let him remove her bra, then pressed herself back against his chest, rubbing her own hardened peaks against his bare skin.
"Oh fuck!"
He wondered why he'd never noticed before now what a tease she was, or how much he enjoyed her teasing, but he was distracted from such thoughts when he felt her unfastening his trousers. One small, warm hand slipped inside to lightly caress his cock and he growled at the sensation of her warmth on his cool length.
He quickly pulled her knickers down, licking his lips unconsciously at the smell of her arousal, and he lightly stroked the lips of her sex, making her whimper, then she was shoving his trousers down off his skinny hips and stroking his arousal.
"Martha!"
She felt no small amount of triumph at the way he was rendered almost speechless by her teasing, then squeaked with surprise as he picked her up again. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the tip of his cock brushing against her entrance as he moved over to the door, then carried her through into the lounge.
He was frankly amazed he managed to get them there without crashing into anything en route, since Martha was undulating in his arms so that the head of his cock was moving back and forth along the lips of her sex.
The Doctor backed over to the sofa, glad that Martha had had the foresight to buy such a wide one, and sat down on the edge.
"Lie down," she instructed, her voice low and husky.
He turned and lay back, and she shifted with him so that she was kneeling over him, her body straddling his.
"You're sure about this?" she asked, as she hovered over him, her entrance poised right above the tip of his cock.
"I want to make love to you, Martha," he said, his expression serious and his eyes dark with desire.
She gave a quick nod, then held the back of the sofa with one hand as she guided him inside herself. They both gasped at the pleasurable sensations of his hard length sliding into her slick heat, and he held her hips as she sank down onto him until his cock was fully sheathed.
He slid his hands up her sides, then clasped her shoulders and pulled her down until her torso was flat on top of his. He kissed her gently, his hands sliding down her back until he cupped her arse, then he began to thrust gently.
Martha rocked her hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, then pushed herself back upright. Both of them were moving faster now as their desire and arousal grew, and it didn't take many minutes for them to reach their climax together.
The Doctor uttered a groan as he spent himself inside her, but Martha just gasped a little, then allowed him to pull her back down again so he could wrap his arms around her.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"Thank you too," she answered, smiling softly up at him. Then she tucked her head under his chin and went to sleep, and after a few moments he followed suit.
Title: Potter's Wheel
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Seasons 3 and 4
Summary: The Doctor interrupts Martha throwing pots - with satisfactory results
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: Someone posted the prompt Ten/Martha - Potter's wheel (as in the film Ghost) on the kinkmeme sizeofthatthing and the plot bunnies went hyper.
~~~~~~
Martha set the clay down on the potter's wheel, then poured a little water over it, just enough to moisten it so she could work with it. When the UNIT psychiatrist had suggested she take up pottery as one way of dealing with the effects of the year she'd spent walking the Earth, she'd been far from enthusiastic.
"I don't need occupational therapy!" Martha snapped.
"Are you sure?" asked Dr Andrews mildly.
She opened her mouth to retort angrily, then closed it again with a snap; she'd been sleeping badly, eating poorly and almost constantly angry in the past few months. It was clear she needed to do something to deal with her stress, and pottery was as good as anything.
"Okay, I'll give it a go," she sighed wearily.
Martha set the wheel turning and began shaping the lump of clay before her. Her first few attempts had been misshapen blobs that were completely unrecognisable as anything, but after over a year of practice she had long mastered the knack of giving the clay the form she wanted, and she found it a good way to unwind if things were getting a bit much at work.
She was completely engrossed in her work when the Doctor came in; he was on one of his periodic visits following the business with the Daleks and Davros. He had taken Sarah Jane's comment about his having a family on Earth to heart (to the surprise of both Sarah Jane and Martha), and he turned up to see both women at irregular intervals, staying with one or other of them for 24 hours or so before disappearing again. He had become very close to Martha after losing Donna, particularly when he'd found out that Tom broken off their engagement, and she had been grateful for his support.
"Hey," he said softly, pulling up a stool and settling beside her to watch her.
"Hey yourself." She tilted her head to one side, wondering if her pot was going out of true.
The Doctor leaned forwards and kissed her cheek. "Did you sleep?" he asked.
They had talked until nearly 1 am after he'd turned up in time for dinner the night before.
"Mmm." Martha could feel his breath tickling her neck and tried to suppress a shiver of response.
"That's going to go," he said, reaching out to guide the clay back into line again, his long, slender fingers sliding over hers in a sensual manner, causing her to bite back a whimper.
"I haven't done this for years," he said quietly.
"Which famous potter did you teach?" she asked, teasing him in the hope of distracting herself, if not him, because he was tangling his fingers in hers in order to shape the clay, and she was beginning to feel aroused by his touches.
"No one," he answered, taking her question seriously. He slid his hands up to her wrists, his thumbs stroking hers as he gave her complete control of the clay again, and she half wanted him to move his hands away, and half wanted him to touch her more, and in different places.
"No one?" she asked; it was useless to think of the Doctor that way, and she had tried not to for quite a while now, although having his hands holding her wrists and his chest pressed against her back as she tried to shape the clay was making it hard to concentrate on anything but how good it felt to be touched.
Then he kissed the side of her neck, before lapping at her skin, and she felt as if something had snapped inside her.
"Doctor!" she gasped, "What - Oh!" Her question went unasked as he nipped at her earlobe, his hands taking hold of hers as he pulled her body flush against his own.
"Martha Jones," he said softly, turning her body towards his so he could kiss her softly on the mouth, "you are such a beautiful, sexy woman." He kissed her again, less softly and more urgently this time.
Martha whimpered properly, feeling as if every nerve was on fire from his touches as he deepened their kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth and over hers before curling up to caress the roof of her mouth. The clay was forgotten as he turned her around in his arms, then picked her up off the stool. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around his neck, heedless of the wet clay on them, and her legs, which were only clad in shorts because of the heat of the last few days, wrapped around his waist. He, in turn, wrapped his arms across her back, pressing her body tighter against his own; he could feel her hardening nipples against his chest, despite the cotton of her bra and top, and his own shirt between.
Despite his wiry strength and Martha's small stature, he eventually had to set her down on her feet, and she immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, having only belatedly noticed he'd ditched his tie and jacket before coming to find her in what had formerly been the dining room of her house, but was now a combination of study and lab.
Martha got his shirt undone, and the Doctor stepped back from her to take it off, his dark, intense gaze never leaving her flushed face. Then he grabbed the damp towel she kept by the potter's wheel and used it to rub the worst of the clay off her arms and hands, and his own; she moaned as he slid the wet cloth across her skin, feeling her desire increase. He discarded the towel and pulled her close again, dipping his head to kiss her hungrily, and she lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip so that her heat was pressing against his hardness, and he groaned deeply.
"Tease," he muttered when he released her mouth.
"Pot, kettle," she murmured, running her fingertips up the smooth planes of his back, stroking his shoulder blades, then sliding her hands over his shoulders and stroking them down his chest to his waist.
It was the Doctor's turn to whimper when her small, clever hands brushed carefully over the bulge in his trousers before dropping aside as she pressed her body back against his.
As she kissed him again, he quickly unbuttoned her loose, short-sleeved shirt and pulled it off, then he unfastened her shorts and slid them down off her hips. She stepped out of them without breaking their kiss, which impressed him, then she did break the kiss so she could mouth his nipples instead.
"God Martha!" he gasped as she laved her tongue over his peaks until they were hard little nubs.
She looked up at him, without moving her mouth, her eyes full of mischief as well as desire, and he felt his cock hardening even further. His hands found the fastening of her bra and undid it, and she pulled away from him long enough to let him remove her bra, then pressed herself back against his chest, rubbing her own hardened peaks against his bare skin.
"Oh fuck!"
He wondered why he'd never noticed before now what a tease she was, or how much he enjoyed her teasing, but he was distracted from such thoughts when he felt her unfastening his trousers. One small, warm hand slipped inside to lightly caress his cock and he growled at the sensation of her warmth on his cool length.
He quickly pulled her knickers down, licking his lips unconsciously at the smell of her arousal, and he lightly stroked the lips of her sex, making her whimper, then she was shoving his trousers down off his skinny hips and stroking his arousal.
"Martha!"
She felt no small amount of triumph at the way he was rendered almost speechless by her teasing, then squeaked with surprise as he picked her up again. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the tip of his cock brushing against her entrance as he moved over to the door, then carried her through into the lounge.
He was frankly amazed he managed to get them there without crashing into anything en route, since Martha was undulating in his arms so that the head of his cock was moving back and forth along the lips of her sex.
The Doctor backed over to the sofa, glad that Martha had had the foresight to buy such a wide one, and sat down on the edge.
"Lie down," she instructed, her voice low and husky.
He turned and lay back, and she shifted with him so that she was kneeling over him, her body straddling his.
"You're sure about this?" she asked, as she hovered over him, her entrance poised right above the tip of his cock.
"I want to make love to you, Martha," he said, his expression serious and his eyes dark with desire.
She gave a quick nod, then held the back of the sofa with one hand as she guided him inside herself. They both gasped at the pleasurable sensations of his hard length sliding into her slick heat, and he held her hips as she sank down onto him until his cock was fully sheathed.
He slid his hands up her sides, then clasped her shoulders and pulled her down until her torso was flat on top of his. He kissed her gently, his hands sliding down her back until he cupped her arse, then he began to thrust gently.
Martha rocked her hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, then pushed herself back upright. Both of them were moving faster now as their desire and arousal grew, and it didn't take many minutes for them to reach their climax together.
The Doctor uttered a groan as he spent himself inside her, but Martha just gasped a little, then allowed him to pull her back down again so he could wrap his arms around her.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"Thank you too," she answered, smiling softly up at him. Then she tucked her head under his chin and went to sleep, and after a few moments he followed suit.