PROMPTED COMMENTFIC PORN MEME THING
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.
( Read more... )
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.
( Read more... )
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LOLZ!
Okay!
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“What's that?” The Doctor peered his head around Rose's shoulder and stuck his face right where she'd been looking. Rose jumped and screeched.
“What are you, a bloody cat?”
“No, I'm a Time Lord,” the Doctor said, beaming at her. “Are those... Rose Tyler. That is a picture of you.”
Rose blushed and covered her face with her hands. Suddenly realizing this didn't quite solve the problem, she reached for the pictures in question, but the Doctor was already flipping through them, a grin on his face that loosened to slack-jawed amazement.
“Not only are these pictures of you, these are pictures of you naked!”
Rose decided her first reaction had been appropriate and covered her face again, mumbling, “Yeah, thanks.”
“When did you get naked pictures taken? Not that I mind, mind you. Just that I'd want a copy. Or two. Or... this one is actually very, very...”
“I was going to burn them.” Rose said it quickly, reaching for the photographs. The Doctor danced away from her, his eyes trained on one particular photograph. “Really, I was. I'd like them back, please.”
“Just... I want to take another look...”
“Mickey had them.”
“What?”
“In his apartment. It was a thing we did once. To try and spice things up.”
The Doctor guffawed. “You tried to spice up the old sex life with Mickey?”
“Yeah, actually. We were going through a rough patch. So, you know. We tried something different.” Rose shrugged. “I just didn't know that he'd kept the pictures.”
“I'm surprised he didn't have them framed,” the Doctor muttered, turning a picture this way and that.
“Doctor!” Rose was certain if she got any more embarrassed, her whole body would light on fire.
“I'm just saying. It's practically artistic, Rose.” He displayed the photograph for her. There she was, just a year before, blond hair wisping down her back and across her shoulders. He'd caught her in the afterglow of love-making, a satisfied smile on her face, a hand trailing down her body, legs just slightly open. It should have been pornographic, but for some reason, it warmed her heart and reminded her of a time when they'd genuinely made it each other happy. “You're gorgeous.”
“Well.” Rose tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Thanks.”
The Doctor flopped down next to her on the bed, laying his head on the pillow, somehow taking up all the available space. Rose grinned and settled in next to him.
“Do you really want to burn them?” he asked, playing with a piece of her hair.
“Just a bit embarrassing, is all,” Rose muttered. “I mean, he's in a parallel world, I'm, well - with you and...”
“I think it's good, to remember.” The Doctor bent one of his legs at the knee and let his foot bounce with restless energy. “How you were. When you were happy, that kind of thing. You looked happy, just there.”
Rose, recalling just the acts that had put that smile on her face, smirked. “That's one word for it, yeah.”
“You don't look like that after we make love.”
Her face fell. “I don't?”
“No, it's different. You're older now, a little more comfortable. The girl in the picture? Yeah, she's pretty and gorgeous and all that, but you, Rose Tyler - you're stunning. You get this smile on your face.” He stroked her cheek with a thumb and brushed a kiss over her temple. “If I could capture that smile in a million photographs, I would.”
Rose reached across his body towards her nightstand and pulled out her camera from the top drawer. Quickly, she snapped a picture of him reclining in her bed, finding it impossible to get the full length of him in a photograph.
“Oy! Hey now!” The Doctor sat up and brushed a hand through his hair. “What are you doing?”
Rose bit her lip and straddled the Doctor, camera in one hand while she unbuttoned his suit jacket with the other. “Giving you something to remember.”
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She tossed the camera at him. “I want you to remember every single moment,” she whispered, and unclasped his trousers, finding him without pants, as he so often was. Gently, she pulled down on the fabric until she'd exposed an expanse of skin. She bent over him and trailed her tongue over the skin of his inner thigh, hooking close to his erection but avoiding actually touching her lips to it. Grinning at him she heard the click of a camera, and she tucked her hair behind her ears and blew a stream of cold air against the wet skin, watching as the skin prickled to life.
Sliding up his body, she pushed up on his dress shirt and vest, exposing the trail of hair that led downward to where she would soon be focusing all of her attention, and she ran her fingers through it.
“Rose,” the Doctor breathed, “look at me.”
**
She was gorgeous, splayed over his bottom half, her fingers dancing over his body, her eyes alight with mischief. He caught her then, in that moment, his erection proudly jutting up near her shoulder as she kissed his belly.
This was the woman who was his. The photographs that Mickey had taken, he had felt no jealousy over. That Rose was obviously the origin of this one, who so carefully stroked him to a fever pitch without ever once touching his sex.
Opening her mouth, she laid her lips against the skin close to his balls but did not touch them, nibbling just a little in a way that had him wanting to walk the line between warning her to be careful and begging for more.
Slowly, she slid up his body, laying her head on his shoulder. “Sit up,” she said, and the Doctor did so, reclining half-way against the headboard while Rose arranged herself. “Now, take a picture of this.”
Confidently, she wrapped her small hand around his penis, and his eyes closed. This moment was not made for concentration. But when she didn't move to pleasure him, his eyes snapped open. “Oh, right. Picture taking.” He grabbed the camera and looked down.
What a sight he had been missing. Rose's head was bent to her task, watching her hand slowly move up and down. As willing as he was to admit the oddity of the penile shape outside of the sexual context, there was something alluring about her white hand pushing and pulling and pumping that reddened flesh.
The white material of his dress shirt danced closed to her hand and in frustration, he brushed it away. Rose pushed up the material too, half-laying across him while she unbuttoned her jeans, her hand going some what erratic in rhythm while she sought to ease her own building frustration.
“Enough,” he muttered, and gently removed her hand, struggling to ignore the (for lack of a better word) throbbing in his groin. He wanted to capture an expression, if they were truly going to do this. An expression he had memorized, that he strove for every time they indulged in lovemaking. They both stood up, undressing themselves as a matter of a course.
Still, the Doctor was done before Rose and managed to catch her look of concentration as she removed her bra, and another still frame when the garment had made it halfway down her arm. Her hips curved sweetly and he thought with a sort of amusement at the purple color of his inner monologue that the thong clung to them, a little reluctant to leave.
In the end it was him who hooked his thumbs underneath the string and passed the camera to Rose, who snapped frame after frame of him kneeling, pushing the fabric down and away.
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The Doctor gently pried the camera away from Rose's hand and headed south. He pushed back the skin that hid her sex and exposed her to the camera's objective lens. “Beautiful,” he muttered, and switched to his pointer finger, circling and circling the outside of the hole she so desperately wanted filled. Gently, he pushed the finger in, inch by inch, snapping a picture of it, the way it looked as her flesh expanded and then clamped down on him, welcomed him.
The sight, the knowledge that he would still have the images centuries later, almost made him lose control right then, but he laid his head against her thigh and pressed a kiss to the inside flesh there. He drew in a deep breath and pumped his finger in and out, soundlessly encouraging Rose in the little noises she made, mews and cries that only served to excite him more.
Abandoning the camera to one side of the bed, moved his mouth up her body, encasing her breast in his mouth, sucking on it with the strength that she so loved, whirling it around in his mouth like he was sampling fine wine. He was aware of Rose reaching for the camera, the flash of the light, but he was too lost in her, in the strain of pleasuring her first to really pay attention.
“Doctor!” Her hands were in his hair, and he curled his fingers just so inside of her, feeling her shatter around him, clamping down on his fingers and arching up into his hand. He let go of her breast with a pop and grabbed the camera, keeping his fingers inside of her until she seemed to have eased. He watched with a hawk eye until she relaxed, opening her eyes to gaze at him with half-lidded perfection.
Click.
“There.” He tossed the camera aside. “That's the Rose Tyler I know.”
Rose grinned bashfully, but the Doctor kissed her, slipping that talented tongue inside of her mouth, caressing her tongue and the roof of her mouth with all the attention he would have given her sex.
“Now,” the Doctor said with a smile, lining himself up with her, “my turn.”
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I can't wait till I get my prompt! *iz greedy*
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I love that the moment he wanted to capture wasn't climax, but that blissed-out moment after climax. How lovely.
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