Fic: London Falling, Jack/Estelle, Torchwood
Title: London Falling
Author: xtricks
Fandom: Torchwood, Jack/Estelle
Notes: Set pre-series, during WW2, and spoilers for 'Small Worlds'. Explicit: sex.
Disclaimer: Torchwood is an imaginary world, full of imaginary people and other people who aren't me imagine they own it.
"Let me go, Jack Harkness!" Estelle was no fragile flower and she raked his shin with her shoe and broke free, running up the stairs and out of the crumbling bomb shelter.
"Ow! Dammit!" Jack's grab missed and he chased after her, bursting out into the open. The shelter sirens still screamed and the air shook with the rumble and flash of the Nazi bombs. "Estelle!"
There was a pale flash in the darkness, a ghostly face, as Estelle looked back, still running and Jack gave desperate chase. He caught up to her with the shrieking squall of fighter planes above and dragged her, shrieking herself, into the sooty ruin of a bombed out shopfront.
"I hate this war!" She sobbed, fighting still as Jack pulled her close. "I hate this - I hate you! Dammed Americans, you could stop this, you could end this. Why won't you? Why won't it stop?"
Estelle turned her despair to him, all knees and elbows and tear streaked skin, while London groaned and howled like a wounded beast around them. Jack wrapped his coat around the dangerously pale gray of Estelle's jacket and prayed the glint of his brass buttons wouldn't carry to the planes above. It was the worst of the war against Britain, every night full of bombs as fires burned up centuries of history and the English waited for the first Nazi troops to land on British soil.
"Estelle, Estelle, oh, my beautiful girl, shh - shh. Let's not get blown to bits tonight, darling." Jack combed his fingers through her hair and followed the path of a tear down his face with his thumb. When he touched her mouth, she bit him, then strained up to kiss him. Jack groaned.
"Estelle, no," he managed, pulse roaring as loud as the planes above. "Not now. Not here."
"I won't wait any longer, not a moment longer, Jack," She said wildly, hand sliding bold to touch him, eyes fierce in the darkness. "Not if I'm going to be buried under the ground by some Nazi bomb - "
"No, never that. Not you, darling." He hugged her close, hoping that for once, his damned immortality might rub off; just a bit, just for once. He'd been waiting for Estelle's touch for so long and the smell of burning and the sounds of explosions shook his restraint.
"Kiss me," she demanded, hands awkward and insistent as they pushed at his clothes, fumbling on his buttons. "The world is falling to pieces and I'm not saving my virginity for a German."
Jack cupped Estelle's face in his hands and bent his head to her, covering her mouth and stopping her words. "That won't happen, Estelle, I promise," he said between kisses. "Never, never, never."
When he leaned back, she pulled him in again, opening her mouth to him with a strained whimper. He knew her kisses, they shared them outside darkened dance halls and at the gate where he pretended to work. The touch of her hand at his hip, improper for the time, was new.
He kissed her then - improper and lustful - as he never did in the shadows of the dance floor, or after escorting her properly home from a proper English supper to a proper English rooming house. He kissed her in the darkness of war, both hungry and afraid, hands trembling over the race of her pulse and the heat of her skin. She arched to him, eager as any man, any woman - anyone - afraid of dying in the dark and clinging to the promise of life.
"Jack, I don't care what happens tomorrow, I want this tonight." She did. Jack feel the truth of it in the way she pressed against him, he could smell it on her skin. It was fear but more than just fear and it was impulsive but Jack lived for impulse - and by it. Estelle was alive with impulse, alive, and Jack had to kiss her again.
"Let me show you something," he whispered and eased Estelle down in the ragged shadows.
He spread his coat on the ground, not the first time it had been used for such a thing, and drew Estelle down beside him. Her eyes were dark and wide in the flashing shadows and her heavy red lipstick was already smeared. Jack kissed her mouth, pressed his thumb coaxingly against her chin and stroked his tongue against her lips when she tentatively opened for him. The nervous arch of her body eased when he didn't immediately go hauling up her skirt -- Jack hated this era's sexual traditions and she curled her arms around his neck, breath quickening. He tugged one down and pressed it to the buttons of his shirt, leaning back to watch the dart of her gaze, the upturned expectations.
"Wanna look at the goods, darling?"
Estelle blushed and Jack touched her cheek to feel the heat. "I want to come all undone for you, Estelle," he murmured. "My beautiful girl."
"I'm not a girl, Jack," she said firmly and flicked open the first button on his shirt, then the next. "I'm a woman, not a child."
"Oh, darling," and Jack swept his gaze along the lines of her, the sweetness that wasn't childish and the stubbornness that had made him follow her home the first night they'd met. "I know that."
He let her open his shirt and lay still when she slid a tentative hand under his vest. Her fingertips found a nipple by accident and he groaned softly.
"That feels good?" She asked, touch lingering and Jack nodded, gaze skimming unfocused past her face to the flickering night beyond for a moment. "I didn't imagine ... a man would find pleasure there."
"There's lot's of pleasure, Estelle," Jack murmured. "For both of us."
Estelle swallowed nervously but her eyes were dark in the flickering lights of the bombs as she dragged his vest up, nails scraping at Jack's skin in a shivering wash of delight. He huffed out a little groan of pleasure, leaning back on an elbow to watch Estelle look at him. It was, he guessed, the first time she'd seen more of a man than his forearms. He spread his legs so the swell of his cock pressed up his trousers.
"Unbutton your blouse for me, sweetheart," he said softly. Her fingers trembled. The little dip of her collarbones first, then the cotton slid aside and there was the rise of her breasts, pretty as anything, even in a bra that could stop bullets. Watching her fingers slide down those little pearl buttons made him restless, a hot ache of anticipation, and he pressed his palm down his own bare belly to cup over his cock, rubbing his fingertips against his balls where they warmed up the wool of his trousers. Estelle's hands stumbled to a halt while she watched him and the sweep of her tongue across her lips made him grin.
"You keep going and I will," he promised. When she looked away, flushed even in the darkness, Jack leaned up to whisper in her ear. "There's no harm in looking, darling, and I'm a vain man."
"Oh, I know that, Jack." Estelle laughed, breathless, barely audible over the rattle of antiaircraft guns. "You spend more time in my mirror than I do."
She turned to kiss him this time, mouth awkward and Jack eased into it, smoothing his hand through Estelle's dark hair, murmuring against her lips when she pushed against him, breath quickening. The taste of her lipstick was heavy and greasy, Jack licked past that to the heat of Estelle's mouth. She settled into his arms, breath hitching once when they pressed belly to belly -- bare skin, finally. Jack groaned, nearly as overwhelmed as Estelle. He flattened his hand against her back to hold her there, nuzzled along her throat, rocked his hips gently.
"It's like dancing," he said, brushing little kisses down her skin. "There's a reason for all those chaperones in the Officer's Mess."
When Jack hummed, open mouthed and wet between her breasts, Estelle shuddered, arching against him and grabbed his back to pull him closer. "There's no chaperone here," she muttered, "unless the bombers count."
"Sweetheart," he groaned, laughing and nuzzled down to tug her free of her bra and catch a nipple in his mouth. He couldn't hear her cry over the noise of the planes above but he felt it against his mouth; the pounding of her heart and the heave of her breathing. The wail of sirens made him wish Estelle hadn't chosen now and here as he slid down lower to shift her undergarment -- like armor -- aside and bite the soft swell of her belly. He grinned against her when she grabbed his hair.
Jack swept his hand down her thighs, heavy stockings rasping against his skin. He moved up to kiss Estelle's breasts, teasing his tongue over skin that had never been kissed before -- such a pity -- with the beat of her heart fast under his lips. Up again, his mouth on her throat, and his hand below, on the smooth skin of Estelle's thigh, bare above her stockings.
"Can I touch you?" Jack stroked circles along her inner thigh.
Estelle clenched her fists impatiently on the lose fabric of his shirt. "I certainly hope so -- oh!"
Jack lifted back so he could push a hand along her thigh, her skirt riding up his wrist. He had to stop a minute, breath hitching as Estelle spread her knees for him, settling him to her. He curled a hand over her thigh, thumb fitting along the warm line of her hip.
"Perfect," he murmured, lifting his gaze from Estelle's wonderful breasts to her face as he smoothed his thumb over the nylon and elastic of her knickers. Her eyes were wide, mouth parted and he'd been waiting so long to see that pleasure on her face. "So beautiful, Estelle," he groaned, bending to kiss her again. He rubbed his thumb over her cunt again, hot under the clumsy knickers. She flexed under him, a shivering lift to his hand. "Beautiful girl."
He played there for a bit, aware of the planes above them, the danger of fire around them ... stirring Estelle's desire as quick as he dared, wishing he could take his time. Estelle was the one to take the next step, wiggling her knickers down her thighs, breathing in trembling gasps.
Jack ghosted his fingertips along the wet folds of her cunt, cock twitching against the rough, military issue pants he wore. "You ever touch yourself, darling? Like this?" Jack teased his fingers between the lips of her cunt, smoothing a thumb over her clit. Estelle's whimper was short and high pitched and the pleasure in it wrung a shudder out of him.
"Y-yes," she admitted, ducking her head with embarrassment, and Jack groaned softly at the thought, imagining her with her legs spread and him there, watching, and how sweet she'd look when she came.
"That's my beautiful girl," Jack breathed into her ear, "you feel so good, so hot and slick --"
"Jack!" Estelle sounded like she couldn't deiced if she should be scandalized or aroused, her hips bucked against his hand as he stroked her, pushing firmly. "Don't say things like that!"
"No?" Jack kissed her, smiling at the way she opened eagerly to him, quick learner, his girl. "With you so beautiful? All of you, Estelle, from top to bottom, and it's a gorgeous bottom, trust me." He cupped his hand over her cunt, rough hair wet against his hand as he massaged her there. "A woman's cunt is a beautiful thing, and if you take any man to your bed who says otherwise, kick him right out again."
"I'm not having anyone but you in my bed, Jack," Estelle panted, gaze heartbreakingly open. "You're the only man I want."
It was Jack's turn to hide his face, pressing to her breasts, swallowing hard. The Doctor could be here any time now, and it would break Estelle's heart when he left. He hadn't meant to feel this way, or let anyone else feel this way for him. He caught Estelle's nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue and letting the way she shuddered under him drive any thinking out of his head. None of them knew what might happen tomorrow.
Stroking a finger into her, Jack felt the constriction of a hymen and didn't explore any deeper, focusing on Estelle's clit, on her swollen labia, on the sensitive skin of her thighs. He ducked is head to settle his mouth on her nipples and her hands tangled hard in his hair, holding him close. Her breathing was quick, stirring against his hair as he licked her nipples. "Jack -- I --"
Estelle's sudden buck against his hand, and her gasping wail came on quickly -- she was so new to it all -- and he tucked his fingers in against her cunt to savor the fluttering contractions of her orgasm. "My girl," he moaned against her breasts, heart pounding in double-time rhythm with his aching cock, "perfect, Estelle, so beautiful."
"I'm sorry, Jack," Her dismay made him blink in surprise, looking up at her flushed face. "I didn't mean -- I mean I should have --"
"Shh, darling," he kissed her, stroking her trembling thighs. "Sorry for pleasure? Never be sorry for that."
"Show me what to do," Estelle said, pretty chin set stubbornly and Jack only barely managed to bite back his chuckle. "I'm not the kind of girl who will leave her man suffering."
"Don't worry," he said, guiding her hand down to his belt, "I'm not the suffering sort."
Jack didn't even know if Estelle had seen a hard cock before, but she reached for him eagerly enough, when his trousers were undone and his cock lifted out from the wool and cotton of his uniform. The sight of her hand on him made him groan and twitch and Estelle made a surprised sound, squeezing him just a little too hard. Jack wiggled his hips with a soft laugh, never minding the roar of fighter planes overhead for a moment.
"You feel so ..."
"Sexy?" Jack suggested, low voiced and he reached to guide Estelle's hand, wrapping his fingers around hers then stroking them both along his cock. "Amazing? Gorgeous?"
"Delicate," Estelle said, stealing a glance up at Jack's face, then glancing shyly back down as she twisted her hand on the upstroke. "So ... hot."
"Uh-hu ..." Jack panted, hips jerking, pushing the pace of their hands to match the driving urgency thrumming through him. Just the sight of Estelle's hand on him made Jack's balls pull tight, and the look on her face -- curiosity, pleasure, determination -- made him ache for a bed and a few hours of peace with her.
But they didn't have that, just the rubble digging into his hip and the smell of soot in the air, and Jack watched Estelle's face hungrily as he thrust into her hand. When she bit her lip; white teeth and a red, smudged mouth, he came, groaning her name.
"That's ... messy," she said after a pause, fist closed loosely over the head of his softening cock, come shining on her fingers. Jack burst out laughing.
"Luckily you don't have to try and explain to your sergeant why your socks are all stuck together."
"Ugh," Estelle wrinkled her nose, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "you're horrible, Jack Harkness."
"You love it," Jack ducked his head to coax Estelle into a last kiss, curling a hand over her hip before shifting back and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wiped her fingers and put himself to rights while Estelle tugged her knickers up and buttoned her blouse.
The air around them had quieted, the air battle above them done for the night. Jack helped Estelle to her feet and shrugged his coat back on, hearing voices beginning to echo in the streets as people climbed out of the bomb shelters to see what was left of their homes. Estelle laced her fingers, slightly sticky, with his.
"I think," Estelle's voice was hesitant but the glance she stole to him was warm. "I'd like to try that again, without the air bombs."
"That's entirely the wrong sort of fireworks," Jack agreed, drawing Estelle's hand up to kiss her wrist. "There's nothing I'd love more than a bed and you, darling."
When Estelle tucked herself against his side, smelling warm and sweet with sex, Jack found himself almost hoping the Doctor wouldn't be along too soon.
END 121810
Please comment on Dreamwidth because it isn't run by the Russian Mob!
http://xtricks.dreamwidth.org/60449.html: link to the original post
Author: xtricks
Fandom: Torchwood, Jack/Estelle
Notes: Set pre-series, during WW2, and spoilers for 'Small Worlds'. Explicit: sex.
Disclaimer: Torchwood is an imaginary world, full of imaginary people and other people who aren't me imagine they own it.
"Let me go, Jack Harkness!" Estelle was no fragile flower and she raked his shin with her shoe and broke free, running up the stairs and out of the crumbling bomb shelter.
"Ow! Dammit!" Jack's grab missed and he chased after her, bursting out into the open. The shelter sirens still screamed and the air shook with the rumble and flash of the Nazi bombs. "Estelle!"
There was a pale flash in the darkness, a ghostly face, as Estelle looked back, still running and Jack gave desperate chase. He caught up to her with the shrieking squall of fighter planes above and dragged her, shrieking herself, into the sooty ruin of a bombed out shopfront.
"I hate this war!" She sobbed, fighting still as Jack pulled her close. "I hate this - I hate you! Dammed Americans, you could stop this, you could end this. Why won't you? Why won't it stop?"
Estelle turned her despair to him, all knees and elbows and tear streaked skin, while London groaned and howled like a wounded beast around them. Jack wrapped his coat around the dangerously pale gray of Estelle's jacket and prayed the glint of his brass buttons wouldn't carry to the planes above. It was the worst of the war against Britain, every night full of bombs as fires burned up centuries of history and the English waited for the first Nazi troops to land on British soil.
"Estelle, Estelle, oh, my beautiful girl, shh - shh. Let's not get blown to bits tonight, darling." Jack combed his fingers through her hair and followed the path of a tear down his face with his thumb. When he touched her mouth, she bit him, then strained up to kiss him. Jack groaned.
"Estelle, no," he managed, pulse roaring as loud as the planes above. "Not now. Not here."
"I won't wait any longer, not a moment longer, Jack," She said wildly, hand sliding bold to touch him, eyes fierce in the darkness. "Not if I'm going to be buried under the ground by some Nazi bomb - "
"No, never that. Not you, darling." He hugged her close, hoping that for once, his damned immortality might rub off; just a bit, just for once. He'd been waiting for Estelle's touch for so long and the smell of burning and the sounds of explosions shook his restraint.
"Kiss me," she demanded, hands awkward and insistent as they pushed at his clothes, fumbling on his buttons. "The world is falling to pieces and I'm not saving my virginity for a German."
Jack cupped Estelle's face in his hands and bent his head to her, covering her mouth and stopping her words. "That won't happen, Estelle, I promise," he said between kisses. "Never, never, never."
When he leaned back, she pulled him in again, opening her mouth to him with a strained whimper. He knew her kisses, they shared them outside darkened dance halls and at the gate where he pretended to work. The touch of her hand at his hip, improper for the time, was new.
He kissed her then - improper and lustful - as he never did in the shadows of the dance floor, or after escorting her properly home from a proper English supper to a proper English rooming house. He kissed her in the darkness of war, both hungry and afraid, hands trembling over the race of her pulse and the heat of her skin. She arched to him, eager as any man, any woman - anyone - afraid of dying in the dark and clinging to the promise of life.
"Jack, I don't care what happens tomorrow, I want this tonight." She did. Jack feel the truth of it in the way she pressed against him, he could smell it on her skin. It was fear but more than just fear and it was impulsive but Jack lived for impulse - and by it. Estelle was alive with impulse, alive, and Jack had to kiss her again.
"Let me show you something," he whispered and eased Estelle down in the ragged shadows.
He spread his coat on the ground, not the first time it had been used for such a thing, and drew Estelle down beside him. Her eyes were dark and wide in the flashing shadows and her heavy red lipstick was already smeared. Jack kissed her mouth, pressed his thumb coaxingly against her chin and stroked his tongue against her lips when she tentatively opened for him. The nervous arch of her body eased when he didn't immediately go hauling up her skirt -- Jack hated this era's sexual traditions and she curled her arms around his neck, breath quickening. He tugged one down and pressed it to the buttons of his shirt, leaning back to watch the dart of her gaze, the upturned expectations.
"Wanna look at the goods, darling?"
Estelle blushed and Jack touched her cheek to feel the heat. "I want to come all undone for you, Estelle," he murmured. "My beautiful girl."
"I'm not a girl, Jack," she said firmly and flicked open the first button on his shirt, then the next. "I'm a woman, not a child."
"Oh, darling," and Jack swept his gaze along the lines of her, the sweetness that wasn't childish and the stubbornness that had made him follow her home the first night they'd met. "I know that."
He let her open his shirt and lay still when she slid a tentative hand under his vest. Her fingertips found a nipple by accident and he groaned softly.
"That feels good?" She asked, touch lingering and Jack nodded, gaze skimming unfocused past her face to the flickering night beyond for a moment. "I didn't imagine ... a man would find pleasure there."
"There's lot's of pleasure, Estelle," Jack murmured. "For both of us."
Estelle swallowed nervously but her eyes were dark in the flickering lights of the bombs as she dragged his vest up, nails scraping at Jack's skin in a shivering wash of delight. He huffed out a little groan of pleasure, leaning back on an elbow to watch Estelle look at him. It was, he guessed, the first time she'd seen more of a man than his forearms. He spread his legs so the swell of his cock pressed up his trousers.
"Unbutton your blouse for me, sweetheart," he said softly. Her fingers trembled. The little dip of her collarbones first, then the cotton slid aside and there was the rise of her breasts, pretty as anything, even in a bra that could stop bullets. Watching her fingers slide down those little pearl buttons made him restless, a hot ache of anticipation, and he pressed his palm down his own bare belly to cup over his cock, rubbing his fingertips against his balls where they warmed up the wool of his trousers. Estelle's hands stumbled to a halt while she watched him and the sweep of her tongue across her lips made him grin.
"You keep going and I will," he promised. When she looked away, flushed even in the darkness, Jack leaned up to whisper in her ear. "There's no harm in looking, darling, and I'm a vain man."
"Oh, I know that, Jack." Estelle laughed, breathless, barely audible over the rattle of antiaircraft guns. "You spend more time in my mirror than I do."
She turned to kiss him this time, mouth awkward and Jack eased into it, smoothing his hand through Estelle's dark hair, murmuring against her lips when she pushed against him, breath quickening. The taste of her lipstick was heavy and greasy, Jack licked past that to the heat of Estelle's mouth. She settled into his arms, breath hitching once when they pressed belly to belly -- bare skin, finally. Jack groaned, nearly as overwhelmed as Estelle. He flattened his hand against her back to hold her there, nuzzled along her throat, rocked his hips gently.
"It's like dancing," he said, brushing little kisses down her skin. "There's a reason for all those chaperones in the Officer's Mess."
When Jack hummed, open mouthed and wet between her breasts, Estelle shuddered, arching against him and grabbed his back to pull him closer. "There's no chaperone here," she muttered, "unless the bombers count."
"Sweetheart," he groaned, laughing and nuzzled down to tug her free of her bra and catch a nipple in his mouth. He couldn't hear her cry over the noise of the planes above but he felt it against his mouth; the pounding of her heart and the heave of her breathing. The wail of sirens made him wish Estelle hadn't chosen now and here as he slid down lower to shift her undergarment -- like armor -- aside and bite the soft swell of her belly. He grinned against her when she grabbed his hair.
Jack swept his hand down her thighs, heavy stockings rasping against his skin. He moved up to kiss Estelle's breasts, teasing his tongue over skin that had never been kissed before -- such a pity -- with the beat of her heart fast under his lips. Up again, his mouth on her throat, and his hand below, on the smooth skin of Estelle's thigh, bare above her stockings.
"Can I touch you?" Jack stroked circles along her inner thigh.
Estelle clenched her fists impatiently on the lose fabric of his shirt. "I certainly hope so -- oh!"
Jack lifted back so he could push a hand along her thigh, her skirt riding up his wrist. He had to stop a minute, breath hitching as Estelle spread her knees for him, settling him to her. He curled a hand over her thigh, thumb fitting along the warm line of her hip.
"Perfect," he murmured, lifting his gaze from Estelle's wonderful breasts to her face as he smoothed his thumb over the nylon and elastic of her knickers. Her eyes were wide, mouth parted and he'd been waiting so long to see that pleasure on her face. "So beautiful, Estelle," he groaned, bending to kiss her again. He rubbed his thumb over her cunt again, hot under the clumsy knickers. She flexed under him, a shivering lift to his hand. "Beautiful girl."
He played there for a bit, aware of the planes above them, the danger of fire around them ... stirring Estelle's desire as quick as he dared, wishing he could take his time. Estelle was the one to take the next step, wiggling her knickers down her thighs, breathing in trembling gasps.
Jack ghosted his fingertips along the wet folds of her cunt, cock twitching against the rough, military issue pants he wore. "You ever touch yourself, darling? Like this?" Jack teased his fingers between the lips of her cunt, smoothing a thumb over her clit. Estelle's whimper was short and high pitched and the pleasure in it wrung a shudder out of him.
"Y-yes," she admitted, ducking her head with embarrassment, and Jack groaned softly at the thought, imagining her with her legs spread and him there, watching, and how sweet she'd look when she came.
"That's my beautiful girl," Jack breathed into her ear, "you feel so good, so hot and slick --"
"Jack!" Estelle sounded like she couldn't deiced if she should be scandalized or aroused, her hips bucked against his hand as he stroked her, pushing firmly. "Don't say things like that!"
"No?" Jack kissed her, smiling at the way she opened eagerly to him, quick learner, his girl. "With you so beautiful? All of you, Estelle, from top to bottom, and it's a gorgeous bottom, trust me." He cupped his hand over her cunt, rough hair wet against his hand as he massaged her there. "A woman's cunt is a beautiful thing, and if you take any man to your bed who says otherwise, kick him right out again."
"I'm not having anyone but you in my bed, Jack," Estelle panted, gaze heartbreakingly open. "You're the only man I want."
It was Jack's turn to hide his face, pressing to her breasts, swallowing hard. The Doctor could be here any time now, and it would break Estelle's heart when he left. He hadn't meant to feel this way, or let anyone else feel this way for him. He caught Estelle's nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue and letting the way she shuddered under him drive any thinking out of his head. None of them knew what might happen tomorrow.
Stroking a finger into her, Jack felt the constriction of a hymen and didn't explore any deeper, focusing on Estelle's clit, on her swollen labia, on the sensitive skin of her thighs. He ducked is head to settle his mouth on her nipples and her hands tangled hard in his hair, holding him close. Her breathing was quick, stirring against his hair as he licked her nipples. "Jack -- I --"
Estelle's sudden buck against his hand, and her gasping wail came on quickly -- she was so new to it all -- and he tucked his fingers in against her cunt to savor the fluttering contractions of her orgasm. "My girl," he moaned against her breasts, heart pounding in double-time rhythm with his aching cock, "perfect, Estelle, so beautiful."
"I'm sorry, Jack," Her dismay made him blink in surprise, looking up at her flushed face. "I didn't mean -- I mean I should have --"
"Shh, darling," he kissed her, stroking her trembling thighs. "Sorry for pleasure? Never be sorry for that."
"Show me what to do," Estelle said, pretty chin set stubbornly and Jack only barely managed to bite back his chuckle. "I'm not the kind of girl who will leave her man suffering."
"Don't worry," he said, guiding her hand down to his belt, "I'm not the suffering sort."
Jack didn't even know if Estelle had seen a hard cock before, but she reached for him eagerly enough, when his trousers were undone and his cock lifted out from the wool and cotton of his uniform. The sight of her hand on him made him groan and twitch and Estelle made a surprised sound, squeezing him just a little too hard. Jack wiggled his hips with a soft laugh, never minding the roar of fighter planes overhead for a moment.
"You feel so ..."
"Sexy?" Jack suggested, low voiced and he reached to guide Estelle's hand, wrapping his fingers around hers then stroking them both along his cock. "Amazing? Gorgeous?"
"Delicate," Estelle said, stealing a glance up at Jack's face, then glancing shyly back down as she twisted her hand on the upstroke. "So ... hot."
"Uh-hu ..." Jack panted, hips jerking, pushing the pace of their hands to match the driving urgency thrumming through him. Just the sight of Estelle's hand on him made Jack's balls pull tight, and the look on her face -- curiosity, pleasure, determination -- made him ache for a bed and a few hours of peace with her.
But they didn't have that, just the rubble digging into his hip and the smell of soot in the air, and Jack watched Estelle's face hungrily as he thrust into her hand. When she bit her lip; white teeth and a red, smudged mouth, he came, groaning her name.
"That's ... messy," she said after a pause, fist closed loosely over the head of his softening cock, come shining on her fingers. Jack burst out laughing.
"Luckily you don't have to try and explain to your sergeant why your socks are all stuck together."
"Ugh," Estelle wrinkled her nose, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "you're horrible, Jack Harkness."
"You love it," Jack ducked his head to coax Estelle into a last kiss, curling a hand over her hip before shifting back and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wiped her fingers and put himself to rights while Estelle tugged her knickers up and buttoned her blouse.
The air around them had quieted, the air battle above them done for the night. Jack helped Estelle to her feet and shrugged his coat back on, hearing voices beginning to echo in the streets as people climbed out of the bomb shelters to see what was left of their homes. Estelle laced her fingers, slightly sticky, with his.
"I think," Estelle's voice was hesitant but the glance she stole to him was warm. "I'd like to try that again, without the air bombs."
"That's entirely the wrong sort of fireworks," Jack agreed, drawing Estelle's hand up to kiss her wrist. "There's nothing I'd love more than a bed and you, darling."
When Estelle tucked herself against his side, smelling warm and sweet with sex, Jack found himself almost hoping the Doctor wouldn't be along too soon.
END 121810
Please comment on Dreamwidth because it isn't run by the Russian Mob!
http://xtricks.dreamwidth.org/60449.html: link to the original post