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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"Naturally, it is exciting to set up a fantasy place for fantasy experiences, complete with your own light show, if you have the money and energy."
Go!
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“Fuck me, Doctor,” she whispered, burying her fingers in his hair, digging her fingers into the flesh of his back.
“Oh yes,” he said. He rolled them over, and, hooking one arm around her leg, slid even deeper into her.
Their joined moan drowned out the crickets and the gentle whisper of the breeze in willow-tree's foliage.
“Please, Doctor, don't... wait, please, fuck me,” Rose whimpered, drawing him down to her for a kiss.
He set a rather powerful rhythm, and after a few long strokes he felt the world go white around him as he came, crying out her name. Her muscles clenched around him as she tumbled over the edge with him, her moan a distant sound through the rushing in his ears.
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My college friends and I went through every page of The Joy of Sex once. Love the hairy 70s couple!
Anyway, hit me with a prompt.
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The journey from Bad Wolf Bay to Bergen to London to home was long and monotonous, and the Doctor, suffering from his own sort of regeneration sickness ("He's like a newborn baby, Rose," Jackie had said, "and newborns sleep"), had dozed for most of the trip. Rose was left beside him, her sweaty hand clasped in his or tucked through his arm, with nothing to do but imagine the way their lives might unfold. Every feeling coursed through her, from elation to rage to grief and sadness, and as the emotions swamped her, different scenarios presented themselves. He wasn't the Doctor, she thought wildly, he was a thing, and who was the Doctor to tell her to look after him like he was an abandoned puppy? Of course he was the Doctor, she thought a bit later, studying his face in sleep, and her heart clenched with love for him. She would take him home and undress him and make love to him, because it's what she had wanted for all of that time apart. He was damaged, he was genocidal and ( ... )
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His mouth was warmer; she'd noticed that even on the beach, but now she could catalogue all the things that were different and all the things that were painfully familiar about kissing him. There were many more of the latter. Perhaps at home, she would have balked, perhaps she would have pulled away and put some distance between them (too soon, it's way too soon), but confined to such a tiny space, there was nothing but him. Nothing but them. No doors or windows or carpets or mortgages or future. Just the Doctor and Rose and right now.
"I was afraid I'd forgotten the way you tasted," he mumbled against her lips.
Her fingers stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. "Did you?"
"No." His mouth opened against hers again. "You're exactly the way I remember."
He had his back against one wall, and without thinking too much about it, Rose found herself fumbling with the fastening of his trousers, wanting to touch him everywhere but settling for there, where she hoped he most wanted her touch. ( ... )
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( ... )
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LOLZ!
Okay!
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And I have to tell you, this copy smells *exactly* like someone's basement. I wonder how long its been hiding away in a box. Well, no more, I say!
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