[fic] torchwood - our bodies, ourselves - nc17 - gwen/emma
I wrote this for touchyerwood, the Torchwood anon kinkmeme, like.... a month ago? Maybe more. I forgot about it! I always meant to, you know, not be anonymous, but I was sick/busy. I want to include it in my end of year word count/fic round-up, though!
Title: Our Bodies, Ourselves
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: NC-17 for girl!porn
Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Emma-Louise Cowell (implied Gwen/Rhys)
Summary: Emma wants to learn about sex. Gwen is a willing teacher.
Notes: Filling an anonymous request for Gwen/Emma first time porn on touchyerwood. Unbetaed. Originally posted here.
Gwen leaves Emma with a battered copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves, a stack of glossy magazines, and a cup of tea before retiring to bed with Rhys. Rhys is dead to the world, which is tragic, considering how wet and warm and and ready she is, just from talking with Emma, just from remembering past lovers and her own fumbling adolescence. She sighs and throws an arm over Rhys' chest, nestling down into the blankets and drifting off to sleep.
She wakes what can only be a few hours later. It's still dark, Rhys is still asleep, and she's thirsty.
She sneaks out of the bedroom, conscious of Emma sleeping in the living room, and tiptoes towards the kitchen. She comes to a stop when she realizes that the living room is empty. The blankets are tangled on the couch, the mug of tea is still sitting on the coffeetable, but Emma is nowhere to be seen. The light under the bathroom door solves that mystery, so Gwen goes to the kitchen, drinks a glass of water, and starts to worry when the light stays on in the bathroom and Emma doesn't reappear.
She approaches the door with caution and knocks softly.
"Emma, pet, is everything all right?"
Brief scuffling, and then the door inches open, Emma appearing pink-cheeked and flustered through the crack between the door and the doorjamb.
"I... yes. I mean... I...."
Gwen smiles at her comfortingly and opens the door just enough to slip inside. Emma's pajamas are discarded on the floor, as are--well. As are her panties. She's wrapped in her pink dressing gown.
"The shower can be a bit of a fuss, especially if you're not used to it," Gwen says with another kind smile. "Took us an age to figure it out once we moved in. You just--" She stops talking when she notices a book propped open against the sink, the book that Gwen had left her with, opened to a very precise illustration of the female body.
"Oh," she says, eyes wide. Emma turns scarlet.
"I'm sorry, Gwen!" she says quickly. "I was just... I read in all those magazines... I just thought that I should know, that I should be ready. The book said--" If possible, Emma blushes more furiously. "It said it's... it's okay. To touch yourself there. To know what it feels like."
Gwen swallows the awkward, mortified chuckle that wells up in her throat, tries not to stare at the way Emma's pert nipples are pressing against the cloth of her dressing gown.
"It is," Gwen allows slowly, straining to keep her voice level. "It is. It feels... it feels very good, Emma, and it's perfectly fine. It's good, even, to know what you want and what you like beforehand. It gives the boys some direction." She tries to smile at that, but her heart is racing and she isn't sure she quite pulls it off.
Emma drops the gown to the floor and frowns at her reflection in the mirror. "It's just... I can't quite... find it. And I don't know...." Gwen stares at her, at her perky little breasts, at the tempting, rose-colored nipples, at the soft curls below her waist. "How do you like to be touched, Gwen?"
The question is asked in such innocence, not the coy come-on she's come to expect being surrounded by horny Torchwood employees all day. But she knows how to combat the jokes from her oversexed colleagues, how to brush them off regardless of the way that Jack makes her pulse race and Owen knows all the right ways to touch her. This... this, she can't stave off.
"Let me show you," Gwen says, coming up behind Emma, taking Emma's fingers in her own. She lowers them, slowly, down Emma's body, skimming her flesh, pausing over those lush curls before pressing into Emma's pussy. Emma gasps. Gwen bites back a moan at how wet Emma is, her body so willing, even if her mind didn't know what to do about it.
"Gwen!" Emma gasps, and presses back against Gwen's body. Gwen's nipples harden instantly, her panties soaked through as her thighs press together, as if that alone can alleviate the need coursing through her body and amassing between her legs.
She shushes Emma softly, murmuring nonsense in her ear as she moves their fingers together over Emma's clit, which is already hard and sticking out from between the inner folds. Gwen's other hand rises to cup one of Emma's breast, slide that gorgeous pink nipple between her fingers. Emma's head falls back on Gwen's shoulder and she moans.
"Oh my! Oh... oh, Gwen, I can't.... please, please, oh!"
It's like something out of a dirty movie, this willing, barely-eighteen year old girl writhing against her. Gwen feels her own hips surging forward, her cunt desperate for contact with something, anything. She leaves Emma's fingers to stutter at her clit and pushes her own fingers deep into the girl. It's tight and warm and so, so slick. Gwen had forgotten what it was like with another woman, how wet and soft. She wants to kneel on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and shove her mouth into Emma's pussy. She wants to lick her juice away, to keep licking and touching until Emma is wriggling underneath her in ecstasy and all she can taste is her own saliva. She wants to creep back into the bedroom and steal her vibrator out of the bedside drawer and fuck Emma with it hard and deep.
She settles for the finger fuck. No need in scaring the girl off with so much, so soon.
Emma is moaning against her shoulder, trying to quiet her noises, her skin red-hot. Gwen turns her around, kicking off her sweatpants and letting go of Emma's breast long enough to take off her own t-shirt. Her panties are still on, soaked nearly through. The smell of sex was almost suffocating in the tiny bathroom.
With Emma leaning against the sink for support and mewling at the loss of contact, Gwen gently slides Emma's hand away from her own pussy and presses her fingers against the front of Gwen's panties. Emma's eyes go wide.
"Go on," Gwen says, her voice deep and rough. "Go on."
Emma's fingers slide hesitantly past the fabric. Confident that she'll figure the rest out on her own, Gwen returns her hand to pulling Emma apart. She drops her mouth to suck on Emma's breast and drives two fingers deep, deep, deeper inside of Emma's cunt. She thumbs Emma's clit and shudders when Emma finds hers and brushes it almost hesitantly before getting bolder and pressing harder.
"Just right," Gwen says softly. "Just like that. Just like you were doing to yourself. Just like to want to have done to yourself."
Gwen presses herself against Emma's hand, all the while pressing Emma harder, harder. She moves on to the other breast and twists her fingers reaching for that elusive spot inside--there.
She knows she's found it when Emma's eyes go wide. She presses her free hand to her mouth to block her scream. Her body goes rigid, her muscles contracting over Gwen's hand again and again and again, until she collapses, boneless, against the back of the sink.
Gwen pulls her fingers out of Emma and finishes herself off. Looking at Emma lying there, knowing that her fingers were sticking with Emma's juices, even as they pinched her own clit mercilessly... it didn't take long. She bites her wrist as she rides her orgasm out, unable to resist one last pinch to bring her a second wave of pleasure.
When she opens her eyes, Emma is staring at her, wide-eyed and innocent and throughly debauched.
"I didn't... I... oh my," she says.
Gwen smiles and pets her hair. "Now you know," she says patiently, as if it's every day she gives sexual instruction to naive little girls.
"I... I think I need to bathe," Emma says, the blush returning and drifting down her face and neck to color her beautiful breasts, still slick with Gwen's saliva.
"I'll show you how it works," Gwen says, getting to her feet and adjusting the shower. She stretches and watches as Emma hesitantly steps inside.
"What about you?" Emma asks. Gwen smiles lazily.
"I'll be fine," she says. Rhys could do with an early wake-up call, after all...
Title: Our Bodies, Ourselves
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: NC-17 for girl!porn
Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Emma-Louise Cowell (implied Gwen/Rhys)
Summary: Emma wants to learn about sex. Gwen is a willing teacher.
Notes: Filling an anonymous request for Gwen/Emma first time porn on touchyerwood. Unbetaed. Originally posted here.
Gwen leaves Emma with a battered copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves, a stack of glossy magazines, and a cup of tea before retiring to bed with Rhys. Rhys is dead to the world, which is tragic, considering how wet and warm and and ready she is, just from talking with Emma, just from remembering past lovers and her own fumbling adolescence. She sighs and throws an arm over Rhys' chest, nestling down into the blankets and drifting off to sleep.
She wakes what can only be a few hours later. It's still dark, Rhys is still asleep, and she's thirsty.
She sneaks out of the bedroom, conscious of Emma sleeping in the living room, and tiptoes towards the kitchen. She comes to a stop when she realizes that the living room is empty. The blankets are tangled on the couch, the mug of tea is still sitting on the coffeetable, but Emma is nowhere to be seen. The light under the bathroom door solves that mystery, so Gwen goes to the kitchen, drinks a glass of water, and starts to worry when the light stays on in the bathroom and Emma doesn't reappear.
She approaches the door with caution and knocks softly.
"Emma, pet, is everything all right?"
Brief scuffling, and then the door inches open, Emma appearing pink-cheeked and flustered through the crack between the door and the doorjamb.
"I... yes. I mean... I...."
Gwen smiles at her comfortingly and opens the door just enough to slip inside. Emma's pajamas are discarded on the floor, as are--well. As are her panties. She's wrapped in her pink dressing gown.
"The shower can be a bit of a fuss, especially if you're not used to it," Gwen says with another kind smile. "Took us an age to figure it out once we moved in. You just--" She stops talking when she notices a book propped open against the sink, the book that Gwen had left her with, opened to a very precise illustration of the female body.
"Oh," she says, eyes wide. Emma turns scarlet.
"I'm sorry, Gwen!" she says quickly. "I was just... I read in all those magazines... I just thought that I should know, that I should be ready. The book said--" If possible, Emma blushes more furiously. "It said it's... it's okay. To touch yourself there. To know what it feels like."
Gwen swallows the awkward, mortified chuckle that wells up in her throat, tries not to stare at the way Emma's pert nipples are pressing against the cloth of her dressing gown.
"It is," Gwen allows slowly, straining to keep her voice level. "It is. It feels... it feels very good, Emma, and it's perfectly fine. It's good, even, to know what you want and what you like beforehand. It gives the boys some direction." She tries to smile at that, but her heart is racing and she isn't sure she quite pulls it off.
Emma drops the gown to the floor and frowns at her reflection in the mirror. "It's just... I can't quite... find it. And I don't know...." Gwen stares at her, at her perky little breasts, at the tempting, rose-colored nipples, at the soft curls below her waist. "How do you like to be touched, Gwen?"
The question is asked in such innocence, not the coy come-on she's come to expect being surrounded by horny Torchwood employees all day. But she knows how to combat the jokes from her oversexed colleagues, how to brush them off regardless of the way that Jack makes her pulse race and Owen knows all the right ways to touch her. This... this, she can't stave off.
"Let me show you," Gwen says, coming up behind Emma, taking Emma's fingers in her own. She lowers them, slowly, down Emma's body, skimming her flesh, pausing over those lush curls before pressing into Emma's pussy. Emma gasps. Gwen bites back a moan at how wet Emma is, her body so willing, even if her mind didn't know what to do about it.
"Gwen!" Emma gasps, and presses back against Gwen's body. Gwen's nipples harden instantly, her panties soaked through as her thighs press together, as if that alone can alleviate the need coursing through her body and amassing between her legs.
She shushes Emma softly, murmuring nonsense in her ear as she moves their fingers together over Emma's clit, which is already hard and sticking out from between the inner folds. Gwen's other hand rises to cup one of Emma's breast, slide that gorgeous pink nipple between her fingers. Emma's head falls back on Gwen's shoulder and she moans.
"Oh my! Oh... oh, Gwen, I can't.... please, please, oh!"
It's like something out of a dirty movie, this willing, barely-eighteen year old girl writhing against her. Gwen feels her own hips surging forward, her cunt desperate for contact with something, anything. She leaves Emma's fingers to stutter at her clit and pushes her own fingers deep into the girl. It's tight and warm and so, so slick. Gwen had forgotten what it was like with another woman, how wet and soft. She wants to kneel on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and shove her mouth into Emma's pussy. She wants to lick her juice away, to keep licking and touching until Emma is wriggling underneath her in ecstasy and all she can taste is her own saliva. She wants to creep back into the bedroom and steal her vibrator out of the bedside drawer and fuck Emma with it hard and deep.
She settles for the finger fuck. No need in scaring the girl off with so much, so soon.
Emma is moaning against her shoulder, trying to quiet her noises, her skin red-hot. Gwen turns her around, kicking off her sweatpants and letting go of Emma's breast long enough to take off her own t-shirt. Her panties are still on, soaked nearly through. The smell of sex was almost suffocating in the tiny bathroom.
With Emma leaning against the sink for support and mewling at the loss of contact, Gwen gently slides Emma's hand away from her own pussy and presses her fingers against the front of Gwen's panties. Emma's eyes go wide.
"Go on," Gwen says, her voice deep and rough. "Go on."
Emma's fingers slide hesitantly past the fabric. Confident that she'll figure the rest out on her own, Gwen returns her hand to pulling Emma apart. She drops her mouth to suck on Emma's breast and drives two fingers deep, deep, deeper inside of Emma's cunt. She thumbs Emma's clit and shudders when Emma finds hers and brushes it almost hesitantly before getting bolder and pressing harder.
"Just right," Gwen says softly. "Just like that. Just like you were doing to yourself. Just like to want to have done to yourself."
Gwen presses herself against Emma's hand, all the while pressing Emma harder, harder. She moves on to the other breast and twists her fingers reaching for that elusive spot inside--there.
She knows she's found it when Emma's eyes go wide. She presses her free hand to her mouth to block her scream. Her body goes rigid, her muscles contracting over Gwen's hand again and again and again, until she collapses, boneless, against the back of the sink.
Gwen pulls her fingers out of Emma and finishes herself off. Looking at Emma lying there, knowing that her fingers were sticking with Emma's juices, even as they pinched her own clit mercilessly... it didn't take long. She bites her wrist as she rides her orgasm out, unable to resist one last pinch to bring her a second wave of pleasure.
When she opens her eyes, Emma is staring at her, wide-eyed and innocent and throughly debauched.
"I didn't... I... oh my," she says.
Gwen smiles and pets her hair. "Now you know," she says patiently, as if it's every day she gives sexual instruction to naive little girls.
"I... I think I need to bathe," Emma says, the blush returning and drifting down her face and neck to color her beautiful breasts, still slick with Gwen's saliva.
"I'll show you how it works," Gwen says, getting to her feet and adjusting the shower. She stretches and watches as Emma hesitantly steps inside.
"What about you?" Emma asks. Gwen smiles lazily.
"I'll be fine," she says. Rhys could do with an early wake-up call, after all...