iko
in
saxonvoters
FIC: Dancing, Master/Martha (NC-17)
Greetings and salutations!
A first time poster and fic writer, so this is very un-betad. I'm looking for critique and suggestions, especially other writers who are willing to go crazy over IM or email with me regarding our favorite bad boy, Harry Saxon.
Title: Dancing
Author: iko
Pairing: Master/Martha
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Martha goes out dancing with Tish and encounters a very interesting up-and-comer in the department of defense. They dance.
Warnings: Un-betad. Sex. Fun times.
Words: 2157.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the BBC.
Notes: Written because the Master couldn't resist checking up on Martha Jones before she met the Doctor. Comments and criticism welcome!
“Isn’t this fabulous!” Tish says, barely over the pounding music. She shakes her hips side to side to its rhythm, her short black cocktail dress swinging.
Martha rolls her eyes. “Real swell. Tish, I’m not quite sure this was a good idea. I’ve got an evaluation in two days and I really should be home studyin’ for them.” She looks down at her worn denim skirt and t-shirt. “Plus, I feel really under-dressed. I didn’t get a chance to change after work.” She looks out at the masses, their sophisticated club clothes a contrast to her own.
“Psh, you look great! Besides, you need to get out more. Meet new folks.” She looks around the room. “Different from your crowd of science geeks, innit?”
Martha follows Tish’s gaze around the room and notices a man sitting in a booth across the room staring right at them. She quickly turns away, startled at the directness in his gaze. Martha allows her eyes to wander back to him. No question, he is looking straight at them, sitting by himself, his hands cupped around a tumbler, a finger tracing the rim. He looks to be in his late thirties, brown hair, dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. A banker, she thinks. Probably a real wanker.
She leans closer to Tish, putting her head down. “Hey, there’s some guy lookin’ at us across the room, in the booth on the end by himself. Check it out. He’s probably a banker.”
“Hmm,” Tish says. “Probably a politician.” She squints, looking him over. “Good looking, but he looks a bit broody.” Tish nudges her sister and Martha looks at her. “Still, bet he could show you a good time.” Tish winks.
“Tish!” Martha could feel her face flush.
Tish’s eyes light up and she raises her arm high over her head and waves at someone past Martha. “Look, there’s Ron from Marketing. I’ve got to say hi, will you be alright?”
Reluctantly, Martha nods. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Go on.” She smiles faintly at her already turned sister and watches Tish disappear into the crowd. Martha turns and flags down a bartender and orders a gin and tonic. He quickly returns with it, despite the crowd. After a large gulp, she settles herself onto a stool and returns to scan the room.
She glances over at the booth again and notices that he’s not there. “Oh,” she allows a sigh of disappointment. She stands to get a better view of the pulsating crowd but doesn’t see a sign of him or his suit. No sign of Tish, either. She sits back on the stool and looks down at the drink in her hand.
“Hi there,” a soft masculine voice says to her left. She turns and there he is, standing by the empty stool next to her. His eyes pierce into her; they are bright and shining and deep. Martha thinks that she could get lost in them.
“Hello,” she says smiling shyly. Her voice trembles just a bit. Embarrassed, she looks back down at her drink.
“My name is Harry Saxon. I couldn’t help but notice you from over there. You seem like a very interesting person, and I thought that I would be remiss if I didn’t come over here and introduce myself.” He smiles.
Martha looks into his pretty brown eyes, the crows feet at their corners. Wow, she thinks, he’s a bit forward.
“I’m Martha. Jones. Martha Jones.” She turns away to the dancing crowd, looking for Tish again. “I’m here with my sister and her friends.” Perhaps that will put him off a bit, she thinks.
“They seem to have abandoned you and it looks I’ve got you all to myself. Lucky me. I work for the defense department. What do you do, Martha Jones?”
Martha turns to Harry. He’s rather trusting, she thinks. Refreshing. “I’m a medical student doing my residency at Royal Hope.”
He grins widely at her. “See, I knew you were interesting. Do you like to dance, Ms. Jones?” He gestures to the dance floor.
“Martha.” She grins widely at him. “And yes, I’d love to dance.”
---
She brings him back to her flat.
The entryway is dark, dimly lit by the buzzing street lamp on the sidewalk. Harry pushes her against the doorway and kisses her. She kisses him back, her lips pressing against his hungry ones. She fumbles in her purse for her keys as he cups her face in his hands. Her fingers find her keyring as he breaks their kiss and smiles at her. She returns his smile, turning around as she lifts the appropriate key to the lock and opens the door. Martha is barely two steps into her building when the door clicks behind her and she feels his hands on her shoulders stopping her. She feels his body against her back, his breath hot against her ear.
“Are you sure you want to invite me up?” he whispers.
“Only if you want to come up,” Martha answers and pulls away from him, walking up the flight to her apartment. She hears him walking up with her, matching her rhythm up the steps. As she works on opening the door to her apartment, he places his hand on her shoulder, this thumb gently caressing her hair.
The door swings open and she steps in. The apartment is small and warm but all the lights are out and all she could see is the street light streaming through her curtains, casting an orange glow around the room. Click, the apartment door closes behind her and instantly, his arms wrap around her. She drops her bag on the floor and relaxes into him.
Martha breathes in deeply, enjoying his attention. He draws tiny kisses on her shoulder and neck, dragging his lips against her skin. Goosebumps form on her arms as his breath tickles her and she giggles softly.
“I want to see you naked, Martha.” Her face burns hot as she feels his hands undressing her. She raises her arms as he lifts off her shirt. Harry kneels in front of her as his fingers unbutton her skirt. It falls to the floor as she unhooks her bra and lets it fall away from her.
“And now, the pièce de résistance!” He hooks his fingers into the sides of her panties and pushes them to the ground. Martha giggles girlishly at his triumph. He looks up at her and sees his Cheshire grin mirrored in her face. She bends down and grabs his tie and tugs him up from the ground. She takes his hand and leads him through the dark to her bedroom, turning as she reaches the foot of the bed to face him.
Martha loosens his tie and slides it from his neck, dropping it to the side. She pushes his jacket off his shoulders and it, too, falls away. Slowly she unbuttons his shirt as his hands caress her bare shoulders and strokes her back. A hand wanders to the base of her spine and she feels his finger gently her there, a secret sensitive area that makes her body shudder.
“That feels nice,” she says and sits on the bed as she works on his belt buckle. She could see his manhood straining against his pants, reaching for her. Martha’s breathing increases and she could barely contain her anticipation. He pushes her away.
“No, let me.”
“Alright,” she says and crawls up the bed, resting her head against the pillows and watches him undress. Harry undoes his buckle and pants swiftly; soon, he is also naked. Martha looks at his body, lean and pale in the dim light of the bedroom. Not a bad catch, she thinks.
He joins her at the foot of the bed and places a line of kisses up her leg, his hands caressing her thighs. He parts her legs and smiles up at her from between them, his white teeth gleaming. “Oh, you are so beautiful, Martha Jones.”
Martha laughs and covers her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this! That you’re doing this!” She parts her hands and looks down at him. “I’ve only just met you.”
The corner of his lip curls up higher. “Let’s see what you are hiding.” He parts her folds to expose her womanhood to him. She’s wet, dripping. “Ah, I think what I’ve found what I’m looking for.” He holds her open as he begins to explore her with his tongue.
Martha arches her back and moans. She runs her fingers through her hair and lets herself sink further into the bed. His tongue expertly manipulates her, flicking against her clit and darting quickly in and out of her. With one hand he tugs her pubes gently, rubbing her mound while the fingers of the other splay across her belly.
“That feels… amazing.” Martha moans and begins rocking her hips, slowly grinding them into that glorious mouth. As his tongue licks her now-swollen part, waves of pleasure move through her body bringing her ever closer to the edge.
The world turns blazing white as she explodes. His right hand roams up, stroking the side of her left breast with his thumb, allowing his thumb to play over her hard nipple. His breath feels cool against her pulsing sex, her cheeks burning hot with enjoyment.
He plants kisses up her body, pausing at her breasts to take them into his mouth, cupping her two breasts with his hands. She grinds herself against him. Martha could feel his hardness against her thigh, hot and longing.
He props himself up with both hands on either side of her head. Harry smiles widely and Martha returns his grin before he lowers himself on her, pressing his lips against hers. His tongue darts in and out of her mouth and she can taste herself on him. Martha moans into his mouth, enjoying his body against her own. He shifts his weight to one side to hold her face in his hand, greedy for her mouth. A finger traces her eyebrow, the rim of her ear, down her neck to her collarbone where Harry runs two fingers across it. He moves his hand down her body to between her legs and he presses his palm against her inner thigh, setting her legs wider apart for him.
He buries his face in her hair and whispers into her ear, “When I set my eyes on you, Martha Jones, I knew I would have you.” His hardness was in his hand as it explores her entrance, the head becoming slick with her. She turns looks into his eyes.
“Take me, then.” She inhales in, waiting for him, pressing herself against the firm mattress in anticipation.
With a single deft thrust, he buries himself into her. Martha gasps, feeling his length, not expecting how much it would fill her. Harry shifts his weight against her again and props himself up on his hands. He begins moving in and out of her slowly, allowing her to feel his full length. He is so hard and Martha could feel the heat growing in her loins. Her excitement is building and his increasingly eager thrusts seem in time with her own desire.
“Oh, Martha,” he moans. He thrusts rhythmically into her, the hum of their bodies mounting. Martha wriggles underneath him.
“Oh, Harry,” she pants. She could feel the heat building inside of her. Her toes curl, her body tensing for another explosion.
“Open your legs. Wider.” Martha complies. He increases his vigor as Martha rocks her hips against his, pushing up to meet him.
He pulls himself up on his knees and grabs her legs, wrapping them around him. He holds her hips with his hands as he accelerates his movements towards their mutual climax.
“Deeper, please.” He obliges her request, taking her with more force. He brings one hand between her legs to rub her most sensitive part.
“Come with me, Martha. Come with me.”
She cries out as her body succumbs to the ultimate pleasure. She feels him pulsing inside her, his body glistening in the dark with sweat. His final thrusts into her are coupled with heavy grunts. Martha became aware of the moisture on her skin. The night air is cool against her damp forehead as they fall apart from each other, panting. Spent.
He sits up on the corner of the bed and begins to put on his clothes. He tiptoes quietly around the room, a dark shape against the darkness. “Bless you, Martha Jones.”
She smiles at him and sighs deeply, the tendrils of sleep pulling her down. Her eyelids grow heavy and she closes them, succumbing to her sweet exhaustion.
“Perhaps, we shall meet again,” he whispers. The last thing she remembers is the gentle clicking of her bedroom door and the muffled steps away into the night.
A first time poster and fic writer, so this is very un-betad. I'm looking for critique and suggestions, especially other writers who are willing to go crazy over IM or email with me regarding our favorite bad boy, Harry Saxon.
Title: Dancing
Author: iko
Pairing: Master/Martha
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Martha goes out dancing with Tish and encounters a very interesting up-and-comer in the department of defense. They dance.
Warnings: Un-betad. Sex. Fun times.
Words: 2157.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the BBC.
Notes: Written because the Master couldn't resist checking up on Martha Jones before she met the Doctor. Comments and criticism welcome!
“Isn’t this fabulous!” Tish says, barely over the pounding music. She shakes her hips side to side to its rhythm, her short black cocktail dress swinging.
Martha rolls her eyes. “Real swell. Tish, I’m not quite sure this was a good idea. I’ve got an evaluation in two days and I really should be home studyin’ for them.” She looks down at her worn denim skirt and t-shirt. “Plus, I feel really under-dressed. I didn’t get a chance to change after work.” She looks out at the masses, their sophisticated club clothes a contrast to her own.
“Psh, you look great! Besides, you need to get out more. Meet new folks.” She looks around the room. “Different from your crowd of science geeks, innit?”
Martha follows Tish’s gaze around the room and notices a man sitting in a booth across the room staring right at them. She quickly turns away, startled at the directness in his gaze. Martha allows her eyes to wander back to him. No question, he is looking straight at them, sitting by himself, his hands cupped around a tumbler, a finger tracing the rim. He looks to be in his late thirties, brown hair, dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. A banker, she thinks. Probably a real wanker.
She leans closer to Tish, putting her head down. “Hey, there’s some guy lookin’ at us across the room, in the booth on the end by himself. Check it out. He’s probably a banker.”
“Hmm,” Tish says. “Probably a politician.” She squints, looking him over. “Good looking, but he looks a bit broody.” Tish nudges her sister and Martha looks at her. “Still, bet he could show you a good time.” Tish winks.
“Tish!” Martha could feel her face flush.
Tish’s eyes light up and she raises her arm high over her head and waves at someone past Martha. “Look, there’s Ron from Marketing. I’ve got to say hi, will you be alright?”
Reluctantly, Martha nods. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Go on.” She smiles faintly at her already turned sister and watches Tish disappear into the crowd. Martha turns and flags down a bartender and orders a gin and tonic. He quickly returns with it, despite the crowd. After a large gulp, she settles herself onto a stool and returns to scan the room.
She glances over at the booth again and notices that he’s not there. “Oh,” she allows a sigh of disappointment. She stands to get a better view of the pulsating crowd but doesn’t see a sign of him or his suit. No sign of Tish, either. She sits back on the stool and looks down at the drink in her hand.
“Hi there,” a soft masculine voice says to her left. She turns and there he is, standing by the empty stool next to her. His eyes pierce into her; they are bright and shining and deep. Martha thinks that she could get lost in them.
“Hello,” she says smiling shyly. Her voice trembles just a bit. Embarrassed, she looks back down at her drink.
“My name is Harry Saxon. I couldn’t help but notice you from over there. You seem like a very interesting person, and I thought that I would be remiss if I didn’t come over here and introduce myself.” He smiles.
Martha looks into his pretty brown eyes, the crows feet at their corners. Wow, she thinks, he’s a bit forward.
“I’m Martha. Jones. Martha Jones.” She turns away to the dancing crowd, looking for Tish again. “I’m here with my sister and her friends.” Perhaps that will put him off a bit, she thinks.
“They seem to have abandoned you and it looks I’ve got you all to myself. Lucky me. I work for the defense department. What do you do, Martha Jones?”
Martha turns to Harry. He’s rather trusting, she thinks. Refreshing. “I’m a medical student doing my residency at Royal Hope.”
He grins widely at her. “See, I knew you were interesting. Do you like to dance, Ms. Jones?” He gestures to the dance floor.
“Martha.” She grins widely at him. “And yes, I’d love to dance.”
---
She brings him back to her flat.
The entryway is dark, dimly lit by the buzzing street lamp on the sidewalk. Harry pushes her against the doorway and kisses her. She kisses him back, her lips pressing against his hungry ones. She fumbles in her purse for her keys as he cups her face in his hands. Her fingers find her keyring as he breaks their kiss and smiles at her. She returns his smile, turning around as she lifts the appropriate key to the lock and opens the door. Martha is barely two steps into her building when the door clicks behind her and she feels his hands on her shoulders stopping her. She feels his body against her back, his breath hot against her ear.
“Are you sure you want to invite me up?” he whispers.
“Only if you want to come up,” Martha answers and pulls away from him, walking up the flight to her apartment. She hears him walking up with her, matching her rhythm up the steps. As she works on opening the door to her apartment, he places his hand on her shoulder, this thumb gently caressing her hair.
The door swings open and she steps in. The apartment is small and warm but all the lights are out and all she could see is the street light streaming through her curtains, casting an orange glow around the room. Click, the apartment door closes behind her and instantly, his arms wrap around her. She drops her bag on the floor and relaxes into him.
Martha breathes in deeply, enjoying his attention. He draws tiny kisses on her shoulder and neck, dragging his lips against her skin. Goosebumps form on her arms as his breath tickles her and she giggles softly.
“I want to see you naked, Martha.” Her face burns hot as she feels his hands undressing her. She raises her arms as he lifts off her shirt. Harry kneels in front of her as his fingers unbutton her skirt. It falls to the floor as she unhooks her bra and lets it fall away from her.
“And now, the pièce de résistance!” He hooks his fingers into the sides of her panties and pushes them to the ground. Martha giggles girlishly at his triumph. He looks up at her and sees his Cheshire grin mirrored in her face. She bends down and grabs his tie and tugs him up from the ground. She takes his hand and leads him through the dark to her bedroom, turning as she reaches the foot of the bed to face him.
Martha loosens his tie and slides it from his neck, dropping it to the side. She pushes his jacket off his shoulders and it, too, falls away. Slowly she unbuttons his shirt as his hands caress her bare shoulders and strokes her back. A hand wanders to the base of her spine and she feels his finger gently her there, a secret sensitive area that makes her body shudder.
“That feels nice,” she says and sits on the bed as she works on his belt buckle. She could see his manhood straining against his pants, reaching for her. Martha’s breathing increases and she could barely contain her anticipation. He pushes her away.
“No, let me.”
“Alright,” she says and crawls up the bed, resting her head against the pillows and watches him undress. Harry undoes his buckle and pants swiftly; soon, he is also naked. Martha looks at his body, lean and pale in the dim light of the bedroom. Not a bad catch, she thinks.
He joins her at the foot of the bed and places a line of kisses up her leg, his hands caressing her thighs. He parts her legs and smiles up at her from between them, his white teeth gleaming. “Oh, you are so beautiful, Martha Jones.”
Martha laughs and covers her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this! That you’re doing this!” She parts her hands and looks down at him. “I’ve only just met you.”
The corner of his lip curls up higher. “Let’s see what you are hiding.” He parts her folds to expose her womanhood to him. She’s wet, dripping. “Ah, I think what I’ve found what I’m looking for.” He holds her open as he begins to explore her with his tongue.
Martha arches her back and moans. She runs her fingers through her hair and lets herself sink further into the bed. His tongue expertly manipulates her, flicking against her clit and darting quickly in and out of her. With one hand he tugs her pubes gently, rubbing her mound while the fingers of the other splay across her belly.
“That feels… amazing.” Martha moans and begins rocking her hips, slowly grinding them into that glorious mouth. As his tongue licks her now-swollen part, waves of pleasure move through her body bringing her ever closer to the edge.
The world turns blazing white as she explodes. His right hand roams up, stroking the side of her left breast with his thumb, allowing his thumb to play over her hard nipple. His breath feels cool against her pulsing sex, her cheeks burning hot with enjoyment.
He plants kisses up her body, pausing at her breasts to take them into his mouth, cupping her two breasts with his hands. She grinds herself against him. Martha could feel his hardness against her thigh, hot and longing.
He props himself up with both hands on either side of her head. Harry smiles widely and Martha returns his grin before he lowers himself on her, pressing his lips against hers. His tongue darts in and out of her mouth and she can taste herself on him. Martha moans into his mouth, enjoying his body against her own. He shifts his weight to one side to hold her face in his hand, greedy for her mouth. A finger traces her eyebrow, the rim of her ear, down her neck to her collarbone where Harry runs two fingers across it. He moves his hand down her body to between her legs and he presses his palm against her inner thigh, setting her legs wider apart for him.
He buries his face in her hair and whispers into her ear, “When I set my eyes on you, Martha Jones, I knew I would have you.” His hardness was in his hand as it explores her entrance, the head becoming slick with her. She turns looks into his eyes.
“Take me, then.” She inhales in, waiting for him, pressing herself against the firm mattress in anticipation.
With a single deft thrust, he buries himself into her. Martha gasps, feeling his length, not expecting how much it would fill her. Harry shifts his weight against her again and props himself up on his hands. He begins moving in and out of her slowly, allowing her to feel his full length. He is so hard and Martha could feel the heat growing in her loins. Her excitement is building and his increasingly eager thrusts seem in time with her own desire.
“Oh, Martha,” he moans. He thrusts rhythmically into her, the hum of their bodies mounting. Martha wriggles underneath him.
“Oh, Harry,” she pants. She could feel the heat building inside of her. Her toes curl, her body tensing for another explosion.
“Open your legs. Wider.” Martha complies. He increases his vigor as Martha rocks her hips against his, pushing up to meet him.
He pulls himself up on his knees and grabs her legs, wrapping them around him. He holds her hips with his hands as he accelerates his movements towards their mutual climax.
“Deeper, please.” He obliges her request, taking her with more force. He brings one hand between her legs to rub her most sensitive part.
“Come with me, Martha. Come with me.”
She cries out as her body succumbs to the ultimate pleasure. She feels him pulsing inside her, his body glistening in the dark with sweat. His final thrusts into her are coupled with heavy grunts. Martha became aware of the moisture on her skin. The night air is cool against her damp forehead as they fall apart from each other, panting. Spent.
He sits up on the corner of the bed and begins to put on his clothes. He tiptoes quietly around the room, a dark shape against the darkness. “Bless you, Martha Jones.”
She smiles at him and sighs deeply, the tendrils of sleep pulling her down. Her eyelids grow heavy and she closes them, succumbing to her sweet exhaustion.
“Perhaps, we shall meet again,” he whispers. The last thing she remembers is the gentle clicking of her bedroom door and the muffled steps away into the night.