Fic: MMOM11 Day1, Me Time, Dr Who, Sarah Jane, NC17
Title: MMOM2011 - Day 01 - Me Time
Author: Beren
Fandom: Doctor Who (4th Doctor)
Pairing: Sarah Jane solo
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: explicit masturbation
Summary: Sarah Jane takes some alone time in the TARDIS.
Author's Notes: We just watched the Arc in Space and I needed some inspiration, so here goes ;). It's not beta'd yet because Soph had hurt her back and can't sit in front of the PC at the mo, so apologies for any mistakes. Soph has now had a go at it, thankies. Sorry I'm running late already.
Word Count: 1,210
My Fanfic Listings (LJ) | My Fanfic Listings (DreamW)
Sarah walked into the TARDIS and straight to her room. She needed a break from all the full on excitement and adrenaline; even for her it was a little too much. Forever being in the front line with the Doctor took its toll and she firmly shut the door behind her. Most doors in the TARDIS did not seem to even have locks, but at least one of the designers had wanted privacy, because she had figured out how to lock her bedroom. Of course she was under no illusion that it would keep the Doctor out if he really needed her, so she touched the locking mechanism without feeling the slightest guilt.
The person it would keep out was Harry; old fashioned, incredibly annoying, but strangely dependable Harry. What Sarah had in mind for relaxing would probably have blown Harry's mind, given how little imagination he seemed to have. She had told Harry and the Doctor she was going to take a shower and change, but that was only part of the plan.
Taking her time, she slowly stripped out of her clothes, enjoying the anticipation of what was to come. It felt illicit and naughty and that was half the appeal. After aliens and strange cultures she wanted a little normality, a little pure human need and she could feel the excitement pooling in her belly and migrating even further down.
She was of the liberated generation where a woman's pleasure was as important as a man's, but there was a tiny corner of her brain, one that sounded suspiciously like her mother, that tried to tell her this was perverted and wrong. It made it all the more delicious.
When she was naked, she sat on the bed and quickly swung her legs round, bringing them up so she was lying on it. It looked like a normal bed, but it was made of a material that was more comfortable than anything she had slept on at home. For a little while she just let herself enjoy the softness as it formed to her body. The room always appeared functional rather than homely, but everything in it was a luxury nevertheless. She didn't use it often, always off on some planet with the Doctor or running around trying to thwart the next threat to Earth, but it still felt like hers.
Feeling comfortable enough, she slowly lifted her legs, bending them at the knees, which she kept together for now. It was kind of a ritual; another way to build the anticipation. Sometimes she imagined things at this point, alien places, exotic strangers or not so much strangers occasionally, but she didn't feel as if she needed that this time. There was enough need, enough want without the fantasies in her head.
Sliding her hand over her breast, down her belly and into the thatch of hair, she shivered slightly at the sensations that ran through her. She had survived again, she had helped the Doctor save yet more people and it was time for her reward.
Slowly she allowed her knees to fall apart, as if displaying herself to someone invisible standing at the end of the bed. She didn't need a specific fantasy, but in her mind there was someone unspecified there; it excited her. Now she allowed herself to touch a little more. Not much, not yet, but just a light dance of her finger tips down between her legs. She bit her lip, too well trained from living in shared accommodation to allow herself to make any sound.
For a little while she just stroked, not really touching herself much at all and then she very deliberated opened her folds with two fingers, one each side of her most sensitive parts. The ghost of colder air over her body made her shiver again and she put her head back, closing her eyes. She loved to compete with men, beating them at their own game, but she never wanted to be one, not when she had this.
She moved her hand further round, dipping her two fingers into her already wet depths. The need she felt throbbed through her and she moved her hips, taking her fingers even further in. She ached for more and quickly brought round another finger, trying to give herself what she needed, but she knew it would not come that way. Sometimes she wished for a boyfriend, a man to fill her and satisfy her, but she had found in the past that they were usually only interested in their own pleasure, not hers, and they undoubtedly expected her to give up too much. On her own, strong and independent was best and she knew how to pleasure herself.
Bringing her hand back, she used her now slick fingers to stroke over the sensitive nub that sent shots of pleasure all through her body. It was then that she felt it, that feeling that she was not alone and it hummed through her. She had only done this a couple of times in the TARDIS when in desperate need and she had felt it the first time and she felt it now. There was nothing physical about it, nothing corporeal, but she knew she had been joined in her head by something else. The first time it had shocked her when she had realised what she was feeling, but now she knew what it was. It was the same phantom feeling she had occasionally noticed when in strange new places with the Doctor. Without a doubt she knew it was the TARDIS and she did not question it.
Moving her fingers and rocking her hips, she sank into the sensations, letting her mind narrow down to nothing else. Her body could betray her at times, leaving her in frustration as no feeling seemed able to bring her closer to the edge, but not this time. She throbbed with need and arousal and she drove herself on with swipe after swipe of her fingers, slowly increasing in speed.
She opened herself completely to that feeling in the back of her thoughts, the part that was not her, and let it in, let it share. It felt right and complete and now she forgot herself, allowing small noises to escape her as she chased the elusive goal of orgasm. In minutes she was so close, almost there, but her body remained on the edge. It was peculiar, as if she was being held there even when she wanted, and was ready, to fall over it, and then she realised what it was. That presence in the back of her mind; the power she so rarely sensed, was holding her back. Then, at the instant she knew and understood, that was when the damn released and she exploded with sensation as her mind exploded with one image.
The Doctor was there in her mind; a mental composite, full and complete, given to her like a gift. As her orgasm rocked through her she finally understood. The Doctor was theirs, hers in the physical and the TARDIS' in the ethereal and in that they were united. As she relaxed back onto the bed, Sarah Jane smiled; she could live with that.
The End
Author: Beren
Fandom: Doctor Who (4th Doctor)
Pairing: Sarah Jane solo
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: explicit masturbation
Summary: Sarah Jane takes some alone time in the TARDIS.
Author's Notes: We just watched the Arc in Space and I needed some inspiration, so here goes ;). It's not beta'd yet because Soph had hurt her back and can't sit in front of the PC at the mo, so apologies for any mistakes. Soph has now had a go at it, thankies. Sorry I'm running late already.
Word Count: 1,210
My Fanfic Listings (LJ) | My Fanfic Listings (DreamW)
Sarah walked into the TARDIS and straight to her room. She needed a break from all the full on excitement and adrenaline; even for her it was a little too much. Forever being in the front line with the Doctor took its toll and she firmly shut the door behind her. Most doors in the TARDIS did not seem to even have locks, but at least one of the designers had wanted privacy, because she had figured out how to lock her bedroom. Of course she was under no illusion that it would keep the Doctor out if he really needed her, so she touched the locking mechanism without feeling the slightest guilt.
The person it would keep out was Harry; old fashioned, incredibly annoying, but strangely dependable Harry. What Sarah had in mind for relaxing would probably have blown Harry's mind, given how little imagination he seemed to have. She had told Harry and the Doctor she was going to take a shower and change, but that was only part of the plan.
Taking her time, she slowly stripped out of her clothes, enjoying the anticipation of what was to come. It felt illicit and naughty and that was half the appeal. After aliens and strange cultures she wanted a little normality, a little pure human need and she could feel the excitement pooling in her belly and migrating even further down.
She was of the liberated generation where a woman's pleasure was as important as a man's, but there was a tiny corner of her brain, one that sounded suspiciously like her mother, that tried to tell her this was perverted and wrong. It made it all the more delicious.
When she was naked, she sat on the bed and quickly swung her legs round, bringing them up so she was lying on it. It looked like a normal bed, but it was made of a material that was more comfortable than anything she had slept on at home. For a little while she just let herself enjoy the softness as it formed to her body. The room always appeared functional rather than homely, but everything in it was a luxury nevertheless. She didn't use it often, always off on some planet with the Doctor or running around trying to thwart the next threat to Earth, but it still felt like hers.
Feeling comfortable enough, she slowly lifted her legs, bending them at the knees, which she kept together for now. It was kind of a ritual; another way to build the anticipation. Sometimes she imagined things at this point, alien places, exotic strangers or not so much strangers occasionally, but she didn't feel as if she needed that this time. There was enough need, enough want without the fantasies in her head.
Sliding her hand over her breast, down her belly and into the thatch of hair, she shivered slightly at the sensations that ran through her. She had survived again, she had helped the Doctor save yet more people and it was time for her reward.
Slowly she allowed her knees to fall apart, as if displaying herself to someone invisible standing at the end of the bed. She didn't need a specific fantasy, but in her mind there was someone unspecified there; it excited her. Now she allowed herself to touch a little more. Not much, not yet, but just a light dance of her finger tips down between her legs. She bit her lip, too well trained from living in shared accommodation to allow herself to make any sound.
For a little while she just stroked, not really touching herself much at all and then she very deliberated opened her folds with two fingers, one each side of her most sensitive parts. The ghost of colder air over her body made her shiver again and she put her head back, closing her eyes. She loved to compete with men, beating them at their own game, but she never wanted to be one, not when she had this.
She moved her hand further round, dipping her two fingers into her already wet depths. The need she felt throbbed through her and she moved her hips, taking her fingers even further in. She ached for more and quickly brought round another finger, trying to give herself what she needed, but she knew it would not come that way. Sometimes she wished for a boyfriend, a man to fill her and satisfy her, but she had found in the past that they were usually only interested in their own pleasure, not hers, and they undoubtedly expected her to give up too much. On her own, strong and independent was best and she knew how to pleasure herself.
Bringing her hand back, she used her now slick fingers to stroke over the sensitive nub that sent shots of pleasure all through her body. It was then that she felt it, that feeling that she was not alone and it hummed through her. She had only done this a couple of times in the TARDIS when in desperate need and she had felt it the first time and she felt it now. There was nothing physical about it, nothing corporeal, but she knew she had been joined in her head by something else. The first time it had shocked her when she had realised what she was feeling, but now she knew what it was. It was the same phantom feeling she had occasionally noticed when in strange new places with the Doctor. Without a doubt she knew it was the TARDIS and she did not question it.
Moving her fingers and rocking her hips, she sank into the sensations, letting her mind narrow down to nothing else. Her body could betray her at times, leaving her in frustration as no feeling seemed able to bring her closer to the edge, but not this time. She throbbed with need and arousal and she drove herself on with swipe after swipe of her fingers, slowly increasing in speed.
She opened herself completely to that feeling in the back of her thoughts, the part that was not her, and let it in, let it share. It felt right and complete and now she forgot herself, allowing small noises to escape her as she chased the elusive goal of orgasm. In minutes she was so close, almost there, but her body remained on the edge. It was peculiar, as if she was being held there even when she wanted, and was ready, to fall over it, and then she realised what it was. That presence in the back of her mind; the power she so rarely sensed, was holding her back. Then, at the instant she knew and understood, that was when the damn released and she exploded with sensation as her mind exploded with one image.
The Doctor was there in her mind; a mental composite, full and complete, given to her like a gift. As her orgasm rocked through her she finally understood. The Doctor was theirs, hers in the physical and the TARDIS' in the ethereal and in that they were united. As she relaxed back onto the bed, Sarah Jane smiled; she could live with that.
The End