DW Fic - You're Gorgeous...
Title - You’re Gorgeous
Author -
joely_jo
Rating - Adult
Pairing - Ten/Rose
Summary - Rose gets snappy with a camera and a bit of sass.
Author’s Notes - Written for
aibhinn, who was bored and depressed and wanted some pron silliness to cheer her up. She gave me the prompt ‘gorgeous’ and I shamelessly pilfered from a song by Babybird in order to whip this out in double-quick time. Completely un-betaed and therefore any mistakes and moments of incoherency are entirely my own fault.
Rose had a digital camera, a black marker pen and a very fetching grey tank-top as her weapons of choice and a very worrying expression on her face.
The Doctor’s eyes filled with nervous curiosity as he sat across from her in the passenger seat of a rented white soft-top Vauxhall Astra that reeked of pine-fresh deodoriser. They were sitting in the far corner of a car park for a Little Chef somewhere on the A1; it was a Tuesday, around ten in the morning, so there were few people around. In fact, the place was deserted save for a road sweeper crawling through the gutters and a suited businessman asleep with his mouth open in his Range Rover.
“Take your shirt off,” she instructed and uncapped the marker pen.
“What?” he asked.
“I said, take your shirt off.”
He didn’t argue. There was not a lot he could do when that tone was in her voice. Instead, he reached up to loosen his tie and then let his fingers work each button open with methodical slowness. She lay the tank-top across her knees and stared at it a moment, as if thinking what wonderful cheesy slogan would be best.
He cleared his throat and she looked across at him, sitting half-naked beside her. A small smile of uncertainty puckered at his lips, lending him a look of endearing exposure, and she grinned back. With a decided flourish, she stretched the material of the tank-top tight and wrote the phrase ‘You’re Gorgeous’ in flowing, joined-up handwriting across the chest.
“Okay, here you go,” she said as she replaced the cap on the pen and dropped it into the compartment on the door. “Put it on.”
He beheld the tank-top with a look of cool scepticism but then took it from her and did as he was told. It was tight-fitting and he pulled and tugged a minute in self-conscious realisation that this was probably not going to be the sort of adventure where he’d feel at his most comfortable. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her watching and he stopped his fuss.
She smiled, opened the car door and climbed out. Then, she went around to the other side of the car and took his hand, pulling his resistant body up to standing. Her fingers wove possessively through his and she brought him around to the front of the car. With a dominant push, she settled him onto the sloping bonnet and spent a second artfully arranging his limbs. Standing back a few paces, she observed his position through the lens of the camera. Dissatisfaction played across her face. She returned and with a few manhandled tugs and pushes, got him to rest his heels on the bumper, lean back and loop his fingers underneath the cusp of metal where the bonnet met with the windscreen.
The next thing he knew, his knees were being pushed apart and she was scooting backwards to view him through the camera again. “There,” she praised. “Perfect.” She flashed him the sort of grin that made his trousers grow tight and added, “Look at me, then.”
He did as he was told and she began to click away.
It wasn’t long before he realised that Rose had the practised air of someone who had done this before. She shifted left and right, dropping down to a crouch occasionally, interspersing her work with comments such as ‘follow the camera’ and ‘smile for me’ and ‘okay, look serious now’. The whirring sound of the shutter set up a staccato, latin-like rhythm and the Doctor felt himself actually beginning to relax into the ridiculous scenario.
After what seemed like a hundred shots, Rose stopped and moved towards him. “You look amazing,” she told him. She glanced around at the nearly empty car park. The road-sweeper had disappeared off to the petrol station forecourt nearby and the man in the Range Rover stilled appeared to be asleep. “Don’t move,” she said and came to stand between his legs. Her hands insinuated themselves on his upper thighs, rubbing the muscles as they tensed to prevent him from sliding down the smooth surface of the bonnet. Her eyes were dark. “You’re really okay at this, you know. I’m getting some good pictures.”
He was going to reply with a self-assured comment about always being that good when she stopped him by placing her finger on his lips. The breath that was in his throat halted with a tiny squeak, then released in a long exhale. She leaned forward and kissed him, holding nothing back. He arched up as she pulled away, complaining slightly in objection to her withdrawal. “Shhh…” she whispered. “I want to take a few more pictures.”
Her hands ran down from his face, playing over his collarbones then over his shoulders and along his upper arms. He shivered. She stood back and observed him critically for a moment. She said, “You look pretty sexy in that vest, you know. But…” Her voice trailed off. “I know what’d be even more sexy…”
She stepped back up to him and her fingers looped themselves under the neckline of the tank-top, briefly touching his skin. He couldn’t stop the sudden flip of his stomach as she looked down his body and saw his evident arousal pushing at the material of his crotch. A mischievous smile played across her lips. With one swift movement, she ripped the vest clean down the front so that it was left hanging loose off his chest.
“Drop your legs down,” she instructed, “and sit up.”
He didn’t bother objecting. She stepped backwards several paces then lifted the camera to her eye again and took another half a dozen pictures. He could hear the zoom of the focus and realised that she was no longer taking full-length, long-shot photos. She was focusing in. “Rose,” he drew her attention, “what are you doing?”
She didn’t lower the camera as she replied casually, “Oh, just a couple more for posterity. Some close-ups.”
He fidgeted a moment, wondering exactly what she meant by ‘close-ups’ and where exactly she was focusing in on. The camera was, at times, definitely not trained on his face.
And, as his mind wandered, so the pressure in his groin became almost unbearable. He hitched around a bit, but that proved fruitless and so he fell to concentrating on counting the number of equations he knew that included the speed of light and trying to look beyond her rather than actually at her and the maddening absorption she had in her task.
“Keep still,” she told him and lowered the camera long enough to shoot him a mildly annoyed glance.
“I’m not used to this,” he complained. “It’s demanding on the concentration.”
Rose laughed. “Oh, come on, Time Lord, it’s not as if you’re being asked to save the world this time. It’s just a few photos.”
He muttered under his breath that it’d be a darn sight easier to save the world than sit here any longer. She frowned at him because she didn’t quite catch what he said, but he shook his head and said, “Nothing, nothing.”
She took one more photo then walked towards him. Her voice was low and deliberately seductive as she murmured, “You’re good, pretty boy. One of these days I’ll put you in a magazine on every table in every lounge.” She reached into the back pocket of her denim mini-skirt and pulled out a twenty pound note. Methodically, she folded it into quarters then pushed it halfway under the waistband of his trousers. She grinned. His stomach tensed in and, unable to hold back any longer, he grabbed her and pulled her into a searing kiss.
Rose gasped against his mouth at the force of it, a laugh bubbling out even as she responded with lips and tongue. This time it was his turn to issue an instruction. “Stop laughing,” he said and pressed his mouth hard against hers.
She pulled back with a slightly undignified smack and regarded him. “Aren’t you bothered that we’re still sitting in the car park and…” She looked around for the Range Rover. “That bloke over there’s waking up.”
The Doctor glanced over at the man in question. Indeed, he was yawning and stretching and any second now, he was going to open his eyes and see two randy people pressed up against each other on the bonnet of a car. And he had a pretty good idea that should that happen, Rose’s embarrassment would cause her to spontaneously combust with shame.
He chuckled at her obvious uneasiness. “Oh, it’s all right until the shoe’s on the other foot, hm?” he teased. He stood up, tugging her into his body tight so she could feel the rock-hard erection he had pressing against her stomach. A soft sound of shock slipped out of her mouth and he grinned. “See what you’ve done to me?”
He backed her up towards the car, skilfully opened the door with his hands behind his back and settled himself into the passenger seat. Changing the setting on the seat so it was pushed back as far as it would go, he flicked open the button on his trousers, then undid the zipper and hitched them down to his knees. Constricting material out of the way, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. She was still standing in the open doorway and her expression told him everything he needed to know.
“What?” he laughed. “You didn’t seriously think all that was going to make me not want to have sex with you, did you? Who’s going to see? Mr. Range Rover’s too busy drooling in his sleep.”
Rose met his gaze a moment, then she smiled and looked downwards. “Well,” she allowed, considering the sight that filled her eyes. “I suppose it’s a shame to let it go to waste.”
“Just what I was thinking.”
With some adjustment and one hand fumbling down to tilt the seat a bit, she climbed onto him, and braced her knees either side of his thighs. It was not exactly the most stable of positions and she wobbled slightly, pitching forward and making him grin into the hollow above her collarbone.
“This could be difficult,” she said as she hauled herself into the best position she could find.
He sucked in a tight breath as she brushed against his hardness and he realised something that made him both smile and wince. “Fortunately, though, we don’t have to worry about you wearing knickers.”
Rose giggled, and replied, “No, no you don’t.”
“You are incorrigible, Rose Tyler,” he told her with a shake of the head.
She leaned forward to kiss him, but he placed his palm flat on her chest and stopped her. “What have you got this on for?” he asked, fingers closing around the camera still hanging around her neck.
“Might need it,” she said simply.
He frowned at her. “Not if I can help it.” He reached for the camera and tried to whip it over her head so he could throw it on the back seat, but she grabbed his hands and stilled them.
“No.”
There was determination in her eyes like the flash of the camera bulb and he decided not to fight it. She took the camera and swung it around so that it was over her back rather than swinging in his face and then kissed him again. He reached up to deepen it almost immediately. His hands grasped the sides of her face and he moaned into her mouth.
Rose adjusted her position, shimmying up his thighs. He said something that could not be repeated in civilised company and instructed her to stop right where she was. Grinning down at him lying stricken beneath her she wiggled again and he groaned. “Listen,” he said, quite serious. “If you’re not careful, this’ll be over before you really want it to be and there’ll be a horrible mess to clean up from a rental car.”
Her eyebrows lifted and she chewed on her lip with dramatic thoughtfulness. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll be careful.”
She reached down between their bodies and grabbed him firmly. “I said careful!” he peeped in a voice that was definitely not Time Lord-like. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth.
Her eyes were wicked as she positioned herself and sank down onto him. His eyes rolled closed as if he was about to faint and he let his head fall back against the headrest. Another unrepeatable phrase slipped from his lips. If he hadn’t been enjoying her tease so much, the Doctor would have been shocked at his own reaction to all of this. Perhaps grey vests, marker pens and photo-shoots really did bring out the darker side in him.
She kept still a minute and allowed him chance to gather himself. When he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, he shook his head. “Right, Rose Tyler. The line was here…” He gestured appropriately with his hand. “And you crossed over it about three minutes ago. You’re going to pay for this.”
She snickered. “Ooh, I hope so!”
He leaned up and kissed her hard, then snaked his hand underneath her skirt. One finger slipped into her folds and he smiled when he found the wetness there. He traced a circle around her clit, then dared to rub briefly over it. She bucked against him and gasped. “Tha’s…” Her voice trailed off.
“Nice?” he asked.
“More than nice. Come ‘ere.”
Another kiss and another and then she trailed her mouth along his the rough skin of his jaw line to his ear. She nipped the lobe playfully, prompting a soft grunt of pleasure to gush out. Hands scraped through his hair so that it stood up in a series of amusing peaks and crests and left her fingers tacky with hair wax.
When she finally started to move, the Doctor thought his brain must have leaked out of his head and puddled somewhere between his knees and his groin. Coherent thought became virtually impossible and those equations seemed nothing but long distant insignificances; all he could focus on was here and now and everything he could feel. She was following a rhythm that, had his mind been focused on analogies, he would have compared it to a conductor’s arms rising and falling with an orchestra. It was a little jerky at times as she struggled to maintain consistency of movement, but he didn’t really care; all that mattered was that he was very near to climax.
His tongue slipped out as he kissed her to trace the contours of her lips. He grasped her hips and steadied her, feeling the clamminess of her skin beneath his fingers. An expression of concentration drifted onto her face and she moaned something about feeling close. He fixed his eyes onto hers and she pressed down hard in that moment, coming with a startling suddenness.
In a tiny voice she muttered, “Oh… oh, fuck,” then collapsed against his chest as if she had become weightless.
He pushed his hands under her t-shirt and continued, rubbing the small of her back. A series of after-shocks clenched around him and that was all he needed. “Ohhhhh…” he groaned and threw his head backwards as he poured into her.
His eyes screwed shut and he fought furiously to stop his hearts exploding out of his body in a similar manner.
Moments passed but he felt no desire to move, utterly spent and limp. He softened inside her. A trickle of sweat slipped from his hairline and left an itch as it ran down his spine.
She shifted on his lap, drawing in a deep breath of her own. He allowed his mouth to fall open then closed it again as he swallowed. Hard breathing had made his throat dry and the action made him wince slightly. He relaxed and licked his lips.
There was a click and a whirr and his eyes shot open to find her pointing the camera, which was still around her neck, at him.
He sighed. He didn’t have strength in him to object any more. “I don’t believe you just did that,” he said.
The End.
Author -
joely_jo
Rating - Adult
Pairing - Ten/Rose
Summary - Rose gets snappy with a camera and a bit of sass.
Author’s Notes - Written for
aibhinn, who was bored and depressed and wanted some pron silliness to cheer her up. She gave me the prompt ‘gorgeous’ and I shamelessly pilfered from a song by Babybird in order to whip this out in double-quick time. Completely un-betaed and therefore any mistakes and moments of incoherency are entirely my own fault.
Rose had a digital camera, a black marker pen and a very fetching grey tank-top as her weapons of choice and a very worrying expression on her face.
The Doctor’s eyes filled with nervous curiosity as he sat across from her in the passenger seat of a rented white soft-top Vauxhall Astra that reeked of pine-fresh deodoriser. They were sitting in the far corner of a car park for a Little Chef somewhere on the A1; it was a Tuesday, around ten in the morning, so there were few people around. In fact, the place was deserted save for a road sweeper crawling through the gutters and a suited businessman asleep with his mouth open in his Range Rover.
“Take your shirt off,” she instructed and uncapped the marker pen.
“What?” he asked.
“I said, take your shirt off.”
He didn’t argue. There was not a lot he could do when that tone was in her voice. Instead, he reached up to loosen his tie and then let his fingers work each button open with methodical slowness. She lay the tank-top across her knees and stared at it a moment, as if thinking what wonderful cheesy slogan would be best.
He cleared his throat and she looked across at him, sitting half-naked beside her. A small smile of uncertainty puckered at his lips, lending him a look of endearing exposure, and she grinned back. With a decided flourish, she stretched the material of the tank-top tight and wrote the phrase ‘You’re Gorgeous’ in flowing, joined-up handwriting across the chest.
“Okay, here you go,” she said as she replaced the cap on the pen and dropped it into the compartment on the door. “Put it on.”
He beheld the tank-top with a look of cool scepticism but then took it from her and did as he was told. It was tight-fitting and he pulled and tugged a minute in self-conscious realisation that this was probably not going to be the sort of adventure where he’d feel at his most comfortable. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her watching and he stopped his fuss.
She smiled, opened the car door and climbed out. Then, she went around to the other side of the car and took his hand, pulling his resistant body up to standing. Her fingers wove possessively through his and she brought him around to the front of the car. With a dominant push, she settled him onto the sloping bonnet and spent a second artfully arranging his limbs. Standing back a few paces, she observed his position through the lens of the camera. Dissatisfaction played across her face. She returned and with a few manhandled tugs and pushes, got him to rest his heels on the bumper, lean back and loop his fingers underneath the cusp of metal where the bonnet met with the windscreen.
The next thing he knew, his knees were being pushed apart and she was scooting backwards to view him through the camera again. “There,” she praised. “Perfect.” She flashed him the sort of grin that made his trousers grow tight and added, “Look at me, then.”
He did as he was told and she began to click away.
It wasn’t long before he realised that Rose had the practised air of someone who had done this before. She shifted left and right, dropping down to a crouch occasionally, interspersing her work with comments such as ‘follow the camera’ and ‘smile for me’ and ‘okay, look serious now’. The whirring sound of the shutter set up a staccato, latin-like rhythm and the Doctor felt himself actually beginning to relax into the ridiculous scenario.
After what seemed like a hundred shots, Rose stopped and moved towards him. “You look amazing,” she told him. She glanced around at the nearly empty car park. The road-sweeper had disappeared off to the petrol station forecourt nearby and the man in the Range Rover stilled appeared to be asleep. “Don’t move,” she said and came to stand between his legs. Her hands insinuated themselves on his upper thighs, rubbing the muscles as they tensed to prevent him from sliding down the smooth surface of the bonnet. Her eyes were dark. “You’re really okay at this, you know. I’m getting some good pictures.”
He was going to reply with a self-assured comment about always being that good when she stopped him by placing her finger on his lips. The breath that was in his throat halted with a tiny squeak, then released in a long exhale. She leaned forward and kissed him, holding nothing back. He arched up as she pulled away, complaining slightly in objection to her withdrawal. “Shhh…” she whispered. “I want to take a few more pictures.”
Her hands ran down from his face, playing over his collarbones then over his shoulders and along his upper arms. He shivered. She stood back and observed him critically for a moment. She said, “You look pretty sexy in that vest, you know. But…” Her voice trailed off. “I know what’d be even more sexy…”
She stepped back up to him and her fingers looped themselves under the neckline of the tank-top, briefly touching his skin. He couldn’t stop the sudden flip of his stomach as she looked down his body and saw his evident arousal pushing at the material of his crotch. A mischievous smile played across her lips. With one swift movement, she ripped the vest clean down the front so that it was left hanging loose off his chest.
“Drop your legs down,” she instructed, “and sit up.”
He didn’t bother objecting. She stepped backwards several paces then lifted the camera to her eye again and took another half a dozen pictures. He could hear the zoom of the focus and realised that she was no longer taking full-length, long-shot photos. She was focusing in. “Rose,” he drew her attention, “what are you doing?”
She didn’t lower the camera as she replied casually, “Oh, just a couple more for posterity. Some close-ups.”
He fidgeted a moment, wondering exactly what she meant by ‘close-ups’ and where exactly she was focusing in on. The camera was, at times, definitely not trained on his face.
And, as his mind wandered, so the pressure in his groin became almost unbearable. He hitched around a bit, but that proved fruitless and so he fell to concentrating on counting the number of equations he knew that included the speed of light and trying to look beyond her rather than actually at her and the maddening absorption she had in her task.
“Keep still,” she told him and lowered the camera long enough to shoot him a mildly annoyed glance.
“I’m not used to this,” he complained. “It’s demanding on the concentration.”
Rose laughed. “Oh, come on, Time Lord, it’s not as if you’re being asked to save the world this time. It’s just a few photos.”
He muttered under his breath that it’d be a darn sight easier to save the world than sit here any longer. She frowned at him because she didn’t quite catch what he said, but he shook his head and said, “Nothing, nothing.”
She took one more photo then walked towards him. Her voice was low and deliberately seductive as she murmured, “You’re good, pretty boy. One of these days I’ll put you in a magazine on every table in every lounge.” She reached into the back pocket of her denim mini-skirt and pulled out a twenty pound note. Methodically, she folded it into quarters then pushed it halfway under the waistband of his trousers. She grinned. His stomach tensed in and, unable to hold back any longer, he grabbed her and pulled her into a searing kiss.
Rose gasped against his mouth at the force of it, a laugh bubbling out even as she responded with lips and tongue. This time it was his turn to issue an instruction. “Stop laughing,” he said and pressed his mouth hard against hers.
She pulled back with a slightly undignified smack and regarded him. “Aren’t you bothered that we’re still sitting in the car park and…” She looked around for the Range Rover. “That bloke over there’s waking up.”
The Doctor glanced over at the man in question. Indeed, he was yawning and stretching and any second now, he was going to open his eyes and see two randy people pressed up against each other on the bonnet of a car. And he had a pretty good idea that should that happen, Rose’s embarrassment would cause her to spontaneously combust with shame.
He chuckled at her obvious uneasiness. “Oh, it’s all right until the shoe’s on the other foot, hm?” he teased. He stood up, tugging her into his body tight so she could feel the rock-hard erection he had pressing against her stomach. A soft sound of shock slipped out of her mouth and he grinned. “See what you’ve done to me?”
He backed her up towards the car, skilfully opened the door with his hands behind his back and settled himself into the passenger seat. Changing the setting on the seat so it was pushed back as far as it would go, he flicked open the button on his trousers, then undid the zipper and hitched them down to his knees. Constricting material out of the way, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. She was still standing in the open doorway and her expression told him everything he needed to know.
“What?” he laughed. “You didn’t seriously think all that was going to make me not want to have sex with you, did you? Who’s going to see? Mr. Range Rover’s too busy drooling in his sleep.”
Rose met his gaze a moment, then she smiled and looked downwards. “Well,” she allowed, considering the sight that filled her eyes. “I suppose it’s a shame to let it go to waste.”
“Just what I was thinking.”
With some adjustment and one hand fumbling down to tilt the seat a bit, she climbed onto him, and braced her knees either side of his thighs. It was not exactly the most stable of positions and she wobbled slightly, pitching forward and making him grin into the hollow above her collarbone.
“This could be difficult,” she said as she hauled herself into the best position she could find.
He sucked in a tight breath as she brushed against his hardness and he realised something that made him both smile and wince. “Fortunately, though, we don’t have to worry about you wearing knickers.”
Rose giggled, and replied, “No, no you don’t.”
“You are incorrigible, Rose Tyler,” he told her with a shake of the head.
She leaned forward to kiss him, but he placed his palm flat on her chest and stopped her. “What have you got this on for?” he asked, fingers closing around the camera still hanging around her neck.
“Might need it,” she said simply.
He frowned at her. “Not if I can help it.” He reached for the camera and tried to whip it over her head so he could throw it on the back seat, but she grabbed his hands and stilled them.
“No.”
There was determination in her eyes like the flash of the camera bulb and he decided not to fight it. She took the camera and swung it around so that it was over her back rather than swinging in his face and then kissed him again. He reached up to deepen it almost immediately. His hands grasped the sides of her face and he moaned into her mouth.
Rose adjusted her position, shimmying up his thighs. He said something that could not be repeated in civilised company and instructed her to stop right where she was. Grinning down at him lying stricken beneath her she wiggled again and he groaned. “Listen,” he said, quite serious. “If you’re not careful, this’ll be over before you really want it to be and there’ll be a horrible mess to clean up from a rental car.”
Her eyebrows lifted and she chewed on her lip with dramatic thoughtfulness. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll be careful.”
She reached down between their bodies and grabbed him firmly. “I said careful!” he peeped in a voice that was definitely not Time Lord-like. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth.
Her eyes were wicked as she positioned herself and sank down onto him. His eyes rolled closed as if he was about to faint and he let his head fall back against the headrest. Another unrepeatable phrase slipped from his lips. If he hadn’t been enjoying her tease so much, the Doctor would have been shocked at his own reaction to all of this. Perhaps grey vests, marker pens and photo-shoots really did bring out the darker side in him.
She kept still a minute and allowed him chance to gather himself. When he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, he shook his head. “Right, Rose Tyler. The line was here…” He gestured appropriately with his hand. “And you crossed over it about three minutes ago. You’re going to pay for this.”
She snickered. “Ooh, I hope so!”
He leaned up and kissed her hard, then snaked his hand underneath her skirt. One finger slipped into her folds and he smiled when he found the wetness there. He traced a circle around her clit, then dared to rub briefly over it. She bucked against him and gasped. “Tha’s…” Her voice trailed off.
“Nice?” he asked.
“More than nice. Come ‘ere.”
Another kiss and another and then she trailed her mouth along his the rough skin of his jaw line to his ear. She nipped the lobe playfully, prompting a soft grunt of pleasure to gush out. Hands scraped through his hair so that it stood up in a series of amusing peaks and crests and left her fingers tacky with hair wax.
When she finally started to move, the Doctor thought his brain must have leaked out of his head and puddled somewhere between his knees and his groin. Coherent thought became virtually impossible and those equations seemed nothing but long distant insignificances; all he could focus on was here and now and everything he could feel. She was following a rhythm that, had his mind been focused on analogies, he would have compared it to a conductor’s arms rising and falling with an orchestra. It was a little jerky at times as she struggled to maintain consistency of movement, but he didn’t really care; all that mattered was that he was very near to climax.
His tongue slipped out as he kissed her to trace the contours of her lips. He grasped her hips and steadied her, feeling the clamminess of her skin beneath his fingers. An expression of concentration drifted onto her face and she moaned something about feeling close. He fixed his eyes onto hers and she pressed down hard in that moment, coming with a startling suddenness.
In a tiny voice she muttered, “Oh… oh, fuck,” then collapsed against his chest as if she had become weightless.
He pushed his hands under her t-shirt and continued, rubbing the small of her back. A series of after-shocks clenched around him and that was all he needed. “Ohhhhh…” he groaned and threw his head backwards as he poured into her.
His eyes screwed shut and he fought furiously to stop his hearts exploding out of his body in a similar manner.
Moments passed but he felt no desire to move, utterly spent and limp. He softened inside her. A trickle of sweat slipped from his hairline and left an itch as it ran down his spine.
She shifted on his lap, drawing in a deep breath of her own. He allowed his mouth to fall open then closed it again as he swallowed. Hard breathing had made his throat dry and the action made him wince slightly. He relaxed and licked his lips.
There was a click and a whirr and his eyes shot open to find her pointing the camera, which was still around her neck, at him.
He sighed. He didn’t have strength in him to object any more. “I don’t believe you just did that,” he said.
The End.