"Texts", Doctor Who, Amy/?
Title: "Texts"
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Amy/?
Rating: 18/NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters featured in this not-for-profit fic.
Summary: Originally written for Kink Bingo, "Anonymity" This is the first in what's going to be a series of around five fics.
Warnings: Explicit f/f Sex
Notes: Set between series 6 and 7 of the current run.
The text messages had been, to say the very least, filthy.
Amy had no idea who they were from, it was a number she didn't recognize. She tried calling it but whoever it was never picked up. If she asked by text she got a promise that they'd be getting together soon enough.
For three weeks they exchanged texts. Suggestiveness turned to flirting turned to sexting. The only Amy knew about her mysterious admirer was it was someone who knew what she looked like. She also knew they were female. They talked about being wet for her and described in great detail how they pleasured themselves.
And there were hints and promises that the mystery texter intended to turn words to reality.
Then came the message Amy had been simultaneously hoping for and dreading: We're meeting tonight.
Rory was going out, he had a stag night to go to. That meant Amy could go out too. They had been going out separately a lot lately.
Oh are we? Amy replied.
Yes.
Amy bit her bottom lip. It had all been very thrilling exchanging dirty texts, but now that the meeting might actually happen she wasn't sure.
The phone vibrated again. She checked the screen and there was the name of a bar in town. Not exactly a classy place either.
What makes you think I'm going to come?
Oh I know you're going to cum Pond.
Amy couldn't help but smile. The phone vibrated once more. P.S wear a skirt xxx
Come ten o'clock Amy was going into the bar. It was pretty busy. She was wearing a short black skirt and a fairly conservative blue vest top.
She looked round but saw no one she recognised, and no one seemed to be paying her any special attention. She went to the bar and ordered a double vodka and lemonade. She sat at a table by herself and sipped at her drink. The mystery texter had told her to be there by ten. Where were they? Were they here now? She looked around again and while there were a couple of good looking girls, and guys, they weren't looking her way. Maybe this was all some elaborate practical joke.
Are you here or keeping me waiting? Amy texted.
There was no immediate reply. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe she shouldn't have come.
Buzz. Buzz. Both. I promise it's worth the wait.
Amy set the phone down scanning the room again. Who was it?
After another ten minutes and most of her drink was gone there was another text: Come round the back. Behind the bins.
She stared at the screen. So this was it. She was going to finally meet the woman who'd been making her horny as a bunny in spring for the last three weeks. Amy downed the rest of her drink, eyes still on her phone, on the only connection to the mystery woman.
Pond made her decision. She stood, picked up her handbag, and left the bar. She made her way around the back, down the alley between the bar and the building next door.
The back was lit by a single light, there were a lot of shadowy areas. There were parking spaces for space and there were big commercial bins against the back of the building.
"Hello?" Amy said. She couldn't see any sign that anyone else was back here. Her phone buzzed. She took it out of her bag. Put both hands against the wall beside the bins. Don't look round. If you look I'll stop and you'll never hear from me again.
There was another moment of hesitation. But Amy had come this far. She wasn't going to back out now. She stood in front of the brickwork beside the bins, standing far enough away that she couldn't smell them too much.
She stepped forward and put her hands flat on the wall.
Footsteps. Light and slow.
Amy was tempted to look round. She thought of all the things the mystery texter had sent her. The erotic words. The promise of pleasures. The person responsible was right behind her, and she didn't have a clue who it was.
Her phone pulsed in her hand. She took her hand off the wall and looked at the screen. I'm going to tuck a blindfold into your skirt. Put it on. Don't look. Put the phone away and bag on the ground.
Amy put her phone in her bag. The footsteps had stopped. She put the bag on the ground then stood again, both hands against the wall. The texter moved closer. Amy felt her breath on the back of her neck and felt her putting the blindfold down the back of her skirt.
The anonymous person stepped back.
Amy reached around her back and took the blindfold. She positioned it over her eyes and tied it and then put her hands back on the wall.
After a few seconds there were hands on her body. On her waist. Amy remained still as the two hands moved up her sides, then around to cup her breasts through her top and bra.
"Who are you?" Amy asked. But she got no answer. The hands gently squeezed her tits. Then they moved and the hands went up
to her shoulders, holding her and applying pressure. It was clear Anon wanted her to turn around so she did.
Anon urged her back against the wall. Amy couldn't see a thing through the blindfold but she could hear Anon breathing, feeling them close against her. She felt her breath on her face.
Then a tongue flicked over her bottom lip.
"Who are you?" Amy asked again. Instead of replying Anon kissed her. Anon's identity as a woman was confirmed, her lips were soft and warm. Amy parted her lips, deepening the kiss, allowing Anon to slip her tongue into her mouth.
She reached out and put her hands on Anon's waist as they made out, slow wet kisses. Anon's left hand went up under her top, caressing her breast. She pulled the cup of her bra down to pinch her nipple.
Amy moaned. Anon sucked on her bottom lip then kissed ac her face to her ear, licking the shell before sucking on the lobe.
Anon's other hand was moving down and under her skirt before moving back up.
Amy whimpered as the unknown woman moved her lips to her neck and sucked right where she liked it the most.
Then Anon's hand was between her legs, palm against her crotch, rocking her hand back and forward. Amy shifted her hips to match the motion, eager for more friction.
Anon pinched the captured nipple harder, and added a little bite to her kissing at Amy's neck.
"Oh oh..." Amy sighed and she could feel her underwear was getting wet against her most intimate flesh.
Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore Anon finally pushed the damp fabric of Amy's knickers aside and slid two fingers in, her middle and ring finger, pressing the heat of her hand against the top of Amy's pussy.
The fingers entered so very easily.
Amy was wet. Really wet. Something about the mystery and those messages and the way this woman seemed to know exactly how to touch her.
Their lips met again, this time hot and passionate as Anon started to fuck her with her fingers. The stokes were firm and deep, causing the heal of her hand to grind against Amy's clit.
Amy moaned between kisses. Anon's hand got faster. She pinched Amy's nipple, pulling on it. The Scot thrust her hips, the pleasure building, building...building.
As promised in so many texts Amy's orgasm was fucking amazing. She was surprised her cries didn't bring patrons pouring from the bar to find out what was going on.
When her cunt stopped quivering Anon withdrew her fingers. She brought the wet digits up between hers and Amy's lips. Together they licked and sucked Amy's juices between more sweet kisses.
After a few more minutes of kissing Amy moved her hand down, heading to return the favour. Anon stopped her and guided Amy to turn around again to face the wall. She put her hands on top of Amy's, putting them against the wall and put just enough pressure on them to let Amy knew to keep them there.
Amy wanted to tear off the blindfold and look at the mystery woman. But she didn't. She wanted to know but at the same time not knowing was a bit part of what made it so hot.
Footsteps again, this time going away.
She waited for a minute or so before taking off the blindfold. She rearranged her bra, smoothed down her top and shifted her underwear back into place. She leaned against the wall and ran her hand through her hair. She laughed. It was crazy. It was unreal. But it had happened. She'd just been fingered round the back of a bar by a complete stranger.
And she was okay with it. More than okay.
It was six months later, following four further encounters that Amy found out the identity of her anonymous lover...
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Amy/?
Rating: 18/NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters featured in this not-for-profit fic.
Summary: Originally written for Kink Bingo, "Anonymity" This is the first in what's going to be a series of around five fics.
Warnings: Explicit f/f Sex
Notes: Set between series 6 and 7 of the current run.
The text messages had been, to say the very least, filthy.
Amy had no idea who they were from, it was a number she didn't recognize. She tried calling it but whoever it was never picked up. If she asked by text she got a promise that they'd be getting together soon enough.
For three weeks they exchanged texts. Suggestiveness turned to flirting turned to sexting. The only Amy knew about her mysterious admirer was it was someone who knew what she looked like. She also knew they were female. They talked about being wet for her and described in great detail how they pleasured themselves.
And there were hints and promises that the mystery texter intended to turn words to reality.
Then came the message Amy had been simultaneously hoping for and dreading: We're meeting tonight.
Rory was going out, he had a stag night to go to. That meant Amy could go out too. They had been going out separately a lot lately.
Oh are we? Amy replied.
Yes.
Amy bit her bottom lip. It had all been very thrilling exchanging dirty texts, but now that the meeting might actually happen she wasn't sure.
The phone vibrated again. She checked the screen and there was the name of a bar in town. Not exactly a classy place either.
What makes you think I'm going to come?
Oh I know you're going to cum Pond.
Amy couldn't help but smile. The phone vibrated once more. P.S wear a skirt xxx
Come ten o'clock Amy was going into the bar. It was pretty busy. She was wearing a short black skirt and a fairly conservative blue vest top.
She looked round but saw no one she recognised, and no one seemed to be paying her any special attention. She went to the bar and ordered a double vodka and lemonade. She sat at a table by herself and sipped at her drink. The mystery texter had told her to be there by ten. Where were they? Were they here now? She looked around again and while there were a couple of good looking girls, and guys, they weren't looking her way. Maybe this was all some elaborate practical joke.
Are you here or keeping me waiting? Amy texted.
There was no immediate reply. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe she shouldn't have come.
Buzz. Buzz. Both. I promise it's worth the wait.
Amy set the phone down scanning the room again. Who was it?
After another ten minutes and most of her drink was gone there was another text: Come round the back. Behind the bins.
She stared at the screen. So this was it. She was going to finally meet the woman who'd been making her horny as a bunny in spring for the last three weeks. Amy downed the rest of her drink, eyes still on her phone, on the only connection to the mystery woman.
Pond made her decision. She stood, picked up her handbag, and left the bar. She made her way around the back, down the alley between the bar and the building next door.
The back was lit by a single light, there were a lot of shadowy areas. There were parking spaces for space and there were big commercial bins against the back of the building.
"Hello?" Amy said. She couldn't see any sign that anyone else was back here. Her phone buzzed. She took it out of her bag. Put both hands against the wall beside the bins. Don't look round. If you look I'll stop and you'll never hear from me again.
There was another moment of hesitation. But Amy had come this far. She wasn't going to back out now. She stood in front of the brickwork beside the bins, standing far enough away that she couldn't smell them too much.
She stepped forward and put her hands flat on the wall.
Footsteps. Light and slow.
Amy was tempted to look round. She thought of all the things the mystery texter had sent her. The erotic words. The promise of pleasures. The person responsible was right behind her, and she didn't have a clue who it was.
Her phone pulsed in her hand. She took her hand off the wall and looked at the screen. I'm going to tuck a blindfold into your skirt. Put it on. Don't look. Put the phone away and bag on the ground.
Amy put her phone in her bag. The footsteps had stopped. She put the bag on the ground then stood again, both hands against the wall. The texter moved closer. Amy felt her breath on the back of her neck and felt her putting the blindfold down the back of her skirt.
The anonymous person stepped back.
Amy reached around her back and took the blindfold. She positioned it over her eyes and tied it and then put her hands back on the wall.
After a few seconds there were hands on her body. On her waist. Amy remained still as the two hands moved up her sides, then around to cup her breasts through her top and bra.
"Who are you?" Amy asked. But she got no answer. The hands gently squeezed her tits. Then they moved and the hands went up
to her shoulders, holding her and applying pressure. It was clear Anon wanted her to turn around so she did.
Anon urged her back against the wall. Amy couldn't see a thing through the blindfold but she could hear Anon breathing, feeling them close against her. She felt her breath on her face.
Then a tongue flicked over her bottom lip.
"Who are you?" Amy asked again. Instead of replying Anon kissed her. Anon's identity as a woman was confirmed, her lips were soft and warm. Amy parted her lips, deepening the kiss, allowing Anon to slip her tongue into her mouth.
She reached out and put her hands on Anon's waist as they made out, slow wet kisses. Anon's left hand went up under her top, caressing her breast. She pulled the cup of her bra down to pinch her nipple.
Amy moaned. Anon sucked on her bottom lip then kissed ac her face to her ear, licking the shell before sucking on the lobe.
Anon's other hand was moving down and under her skirt before moving back up.
Amy whimpered as the unknown woman moved her lips to her neck and sucked right where she liked it the most.
Then Anon's hand was between her legs, palm against her crotch, rocking her hand back and forward. Amy shifted her hips to match the motion, eager for more friction.
Anon pinched the captured nipple harder, and added a little bite to her kissing at Amy's neck.
"Oh oh..." Amy sighed and she could feel her underwear was getting wet against her most intimate flesh.
Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore Anon finally pushed the damp fabric of Amy's knickers aside and slid two fingers in, her middle and ring finger, pressing the heat of her hand against the top of Amy's pussy.
The fingers entered so very easily.
Amy was wet. Really wet. Something about the mystery and those messages and the way this woman seemed to know exactly how to touch her.
Their lips met again, this time hot and passionate as Anon started to fuck her with her fingers. The stokes were firm and deep, causing the heal of her hand to grind against Amy's clit.
Amy moaned between kisses. Anon's hand got faster. She pinched Amy's nipple, pulling on it. The Scot thrust her hips, the pleasure building, building...building.
As promised in so many texts Amy's orgasm was fucking amazing. She was surprised her cries didn't bring patrons pouring from the bar to find out what was going on.
When her cunt stopped quivering Anon withdrew her fingers. She brought the wet digits up between hers and Amy's lips. Together they licked and sucked Amy's juices between more sweet kisses.
After a few more minutes of kissing Amy moved her hand down, heading to return the favour. Anon stopped her and guided Amy to turn around again to face the wall. She put her hands on top of Amy's, putting them against the wall and put just enough pressure on them to let Amy knew to keep them there.
Amy wanted to tear off the blindfold and look at the mystery woman. But she didn't. She wanted to know but at the same time not knowing was a bit part of what made it so hot.
Footsteps again, this time going away.
She waited for a minute or so before taking off the blindfold. She rearranged her bra, smoothed down her top and shifted her underwear back into place. She leaned against the wall and ran her hand through her hair. She laughed. It was crazy. It was unreal. But it had happened. She'd just been fingered round the back of a bar by a complete stranger.
And she was okay with it. More than okay.
It was six months later, following four further encounters that Amy found out the identity of her anonymous lover...