Title: Skirt, No Knickers
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Tom Milligan
Word Count: 2429
Genre: Smutty Romance
Spoilers: Post-S3 new!Who
Summary: Tom and Martha share a lunchtime quickie in a cleaning cupboard after a rather naughty request from Tom.
All your Doctor Who are belong to us
Sadly, I own nothing related to Doctor Who. I am just playing around in their sandbox for a bit of fun.
Author Notes: This fic was written for the inaugural porn battle
over at the martha_milligan
community for the prompt 'quickie in the hospital cleaning cupboard.' This is my first attempt at writing the Martha/Tom pairing, so please be gentle.
Thank you to persiflage_1
for the beta.
Feedback is happy-making, so please leave a word or two [even if I am a bit slack in responding, your comments always make my day].
====“Suggestion for the day: Skirt, no knickers.”
Martha had read the text message on her phone from Tom numerous times throughout that morning, each time feeling a twinge of pleasure between her legs at his words. Now, in the car park outside his hospital and ready to meet him for a lunch date, she was positively wet with anticipation at what those words might actually mean.
The truth is, even though they had only been a couple for about four months now, ever since day one -- even with their respective busy schedules – they were practically always at it like proverbial rabbits.
Not that Martha had any complaints, of course.
She laughed to herself as she remembered just how nervous she had been to meet him (again) after leaving her travels with the Doctor – casually showing up at his hospital to speak to him under false pretenses (sometimes she was quite happy to be a medical student).
Despite her preliminary reservations, though, the two of them shared an immediate searing chemistry just as they had when she’d met him in his alternate future and in fact -- she thought with mild surprise – he might have been more nervous than she was at the beginning.
“Dr. Milligan, please,” she asked to the receptionist, now inside the hospital.
The minutes seemed to drag on and on as she tried not to openly stare at the lift, waiting impatiently for it to open as she sat in the lobby, waiting to see him
there. She had no idea what his plan for her was that day, but she couldn’t help but smile as she pondered the possibilities.
(Sometimes he just liked to just tease her, get her all excruciatingly excited only to have her desperately beg him to make her come. Even with her urgent pleading, though, sometimes he would play a game of exquisite torture with her, simply leaving her with a command to wait until they were together again for release or for her to fulfill her need on her own once she was alone again.)
As much as that game aroused her, she honestly hoped that she would not need to have one off on her own after lunch that day. She didn’t think – no, she knew
-- she could not handle the wait. No, she was already far too aroused to hold off until she got home later that night and at her work – Royal Hope -- the toilets weren’t so great for privacy (which she’d rather embarrassingly found out a month before when Julia caught her in there).
She began to contemplate the possibility of masturbating in the car before returning to her shift when the chime of the lift opening drew her attention. There, now walking toward her – all deliciously tall, dark, and handsome – was her Tom. She blew out the deep breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding once she saw him, her body already beginning to react to his mere presence, and stood to meet him halfway.
Once before her, he leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She had to admit, it left her somewhat disappointed. “I left something in my office. Would you come up there with me to get it?” he asked with a wink.
“Of course.”+ + +
Once in the lift, Martha was relieved they were alone, hoping that Tom would take the opportunity to kiss her or touch her, her body aching with need.
He did nothing though; he didn’t even hold her hand, just stood next to her and stared silently upward at the ascending digital numbers on the indicator inside of the lift.
Martha was admittedly beginning to worry.
When almost at his floor, he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her neck and whispered. “Are you wearing knickers?”
“No,” she replied, shuddering a bit from his kiss and the caress of his breath on her neck and ear. The contact had felt electric, truth be told, her body already humming with desire and yearning for just the slightest
touch from him.
“Good,” he said with a puckish smile as the door opened with a chime.
He took her hand and led her down the corridor, smiling and waving as he passed his coworkers and then surprised her when they passed straight by his office and slipped around the corner instead. He looked down at her with a mischievous glint in his eye and then pulled his key ring from his pocket, using one of the keys to open the door in front of them. He motioned for her to enter and then when he turned on the light, she saw they were in some sort of cleaning cupboard.
“We’re not going to your office?” Martha asked, turning to see him behind her, closing and locking the door.
“The window on the door is a bit of a hindrance.”
He laughed slightly and then Martha gasped in surprise as he suddenly lifted her onto the top of a nearby shelf, leaving her to sit about waist level with him. She was about to ask what he was up to, but he interrupted her by leaning down and kissing her neck, nipping and suckling at the sensitive flesh there before taking an earlobe between his teeth.
“I’ve wanted you all morning,” he murmured, biting down a bit hard on her ear, causing her to yelp in a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“I know the feeling.”
His hands, resting just above her knees a moment before, were now slowly inching their way up along her thighs and under her skirt. His calloused thumbs began to rub circles on her inner thighs and she bucked slightly against him, desperate for him to touch her sex.
“Such a good girl today. You wore a skirt and no knickers just as I asked.”
“Yes,” she hissed, groaning as his hands moved forward and he began to lightly caress the lips of her sex with his fingertips.
“And so wet,” he whispered, now kissing her neck again as he slipped a thick finger inside her.
Martha cooed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders for leverage, moaning as he began to ever so slowly move his finger in and out of her. “What do you want?” he murmured.
“You have to be more specific than that,” he replied, moving his finger faster now as his thumb began to rub on her clit, the feel of his calloused skin something that she’d learned was quite pleasurable in the time they’d been together.
“I want your cock inside me.”
“Mmm, and then what?”
“I want to come.”
“I do believe that I can accommodate you,” he said, nipping at her jaw before leaning back to regard her with darkened eyes. “Touch me.”
Martha reached down, unbuckled his belt, and unsnapped his trousers, never once losing eye contact with him, enjoying the flickers of his own need and desire reflected there. She quickly found the waistband of his underwear with her exploring fingertips and dipped them inside to firmly grasp his cock.
Tom’s eyes fluttered close at the contact and he bit back a moan.
Martha slowly worked her hand up and down his thick, hard length, imagining again what he might have planned to do to her, so many images rushing into her mind unbidden. Her arousal was growing with an aching ferocity minute by minute – she needed him and she needed him now.
“Lift up your skirt,” Tom said gruffly and Martha felt herself get even wetter at his tone, a resultant throb between her legs causing a soft moan to escape her lips
She loved when he took control of things, dominated her
– it was so different from his public façade, that sweet, quiet man who seemed so innocent on the surface. It was obvious that he loved her, of course -- even practically worshipped her when it came down to it – but sometimes he also got off on topping her and, oh, how she loved to submit to him when he did.
In his control, she need not succumb to any insecurities about pleasuring him, or if she was doing things the wrong or right way, or if he might leave her for another woman. No, he gladly took all those worries from her so she didn’t have to even think
at all (her thoughts often her own worst enemy) – she only had to feel
That is what he would tell her, after all, whispering the words against her skin over and over until they stuck, ‘Don’t think, just feel. I only want you to feel good.’
Martha released her grasp on his cock and inched her skirt upward as far as it could go with the weight of her sitting on top of it. Tom quickly shoved his trousers and underwear down to pool at his feet and then, apparently taking notice of her struggle with her skirt, wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her up so that she could continue to pull it all the way up to gather at her waist.
She had to admit that she always loved the slight feeling of weightlessness when he held her aloft like that – so very strong, the stunning sinews of his muscles surely rippling beneath the cloth of his shirt.
She whimpered at the thought.
He slowly lowered her back down and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, his erection now nudging against her entrance. She then rubbed herself against him in anticipation of penetration – she couldn’t help herself.
“Patience,” he whispered with a gasp of pleasure from her actions, moving to stay her hips firmly with his large hands.
She mewled in frustration. “But, I want – ”
“And you shall have what you want,” he interrupted softly, as if trying to calm her. He then slowly slid a hand back between her legs, stepping back from her slightly. “You only have to be patient. Now, close your eyes.”
“Close my eyes?” she asked, closing them tight.
“I want you to focus completely on what I’m doing. No distractions.”
“Okay.” She felt a bit reticent, but otherwise too aroused to argue or question him further.
“I also need one more thing from you.”
“You have to be quiet. We don’t want the entire wing knowing what we are doing in here, do we?”
“No,” she replied nervously, suddenly remembering where they were through her haze of desire.
“Lean forward into my neck,” he guided her head forward with one hand. “That will help muffle your cries.”
Martha nuzzled her nose against his neck, her chin brushing against the slightly coarse fabric of his shirt. She inhaled the soft scent of his cologne deeply, relishing it. She always loved the smell of him – cologne, sweat, musk –
“Oooh,” she cooed in surprise into his neck, feeling a light pressure and then rubbing against her sex. It took her a moment, but she quickly realized that he was rubbing the tip of his cock against her.
She held tightly onto his shoulders, trying to focus completely on the pleasurable sensation between her legs. Soon she was trembling and moaning and whimpering against him, losing herself completely to the feeling of the tip of his hard cock moving in soft circles against her clit. It was certainly different than the sensation of his fingers or tongue on her, but still very pleasant.
During his ministrations, she was only vaguely aware of his own quiet, soft moans filling the room, mingling with her own. Things were almost completely silent otherwise, though, so she was almost startled when he finally spoke again. “Tell me when you are close,” he said in a husky, breathy whisper.
He continued to rub himself against her, varying pressures and angles, and occasionally dipping a finger inside her to both stimulate her further and rub over himself for lubrication. She was quivering now, her body almost overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving her as her thighs pressed tightly against his hips, and her breathing became more and more ragged.
She could feel her climax beginning to build within her and she whispered, barely even able to coherently form the words, “I’m close.”
Tom slid his free hand down around to the small of her back and there was a sudden intake of breath between them as he pushed his cock inside her, penetrating her fully with his thickness. He moved against her, his movements almost wild and unrestrained, and she wrapped her legs fully – tightly
– around him again, her shoe digging almost uncomfortably into her ankle from the pressure of squeezing him against her.
“Come for me,” Tom ground out, his hips moving against her as if a piston – hard and fast and wonderful
Martha squeezed his shoulder tight with her hand, practically biting his neck as she pressed her lips against the flesh there, trying her best to quiet the wailing keen suddenly rising from her lungs, up through her throat, and past her lips as her climax surged through her.
Tom kept up his pace throughout her orgasm, his movements becoming more and more erratic and frenzied until he finally shuddered against her, grunting deeply with each wave of his own climax as it hit him and shook his body with exquisite release.
The two of them just sat there for a few moments afterward, both trying to catch their breath from the exertion. Tom was the first to move, shifting backward to look down at her as he ran his fingertips lightly down the side of her face and traced a thumb across her lips.
Martha’s breath seemed to catch again just as she had regained it, this time from the deep affection she saw in his gaze.
“Let’s get you some food,” he whispered, wagging a finger at her. “Can’t have you starving, especially after working up such an appetite. Doctor’s orders.”
“Same could be said for you, I should think,” she replied, still a bit breathless.
The two of them redressed quickly and smoothed out their clothing and hair to look presentable again. As Tom helped Martha down from the shelf, she smiled mischievously up at him. “Are you going to have any other suggestions for the day for tomorrow’s lunch?” she asked.
“I’m sure that I can think of something.”
Martha stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you, my beautiful Martha Jones.”