amberfocus: (Ten2 and Rose--Double Beach Kiss)
[personal profile] amberfocus
Title:  One of Those American Western Cowboy Romance Things (1/1)
Author: 
[info]amberfocus
Pairing:  Ten2/Rose
Genre:  Sort of silly, cracky smut
Warnings:  A bit of role-play, a smidge of dominance play that goes both ways
Rating:  Adult  for graphic sex
Betas: 
[info]amyo67, [info]jeprdyfrndly
Summary:  He’d gotten heavily into American Westerns a week earlier, which was probably why when he’d seen her mum’s book he’d picked it up in the first place. Like everything that caught his interest these days, he had been determined to carry the theme into the rest of their lives, particularly their sex life.
A/N:  Not safe for work or school and mind the kiddies.  Sorry if the formatting is wonky today.  LJ is being difficult.  Posting under rule 12 of the [livejournal.com profile] sistersofguh smut-a-thon, since this was mostly written before then and not inspired by any of the prompts there.


One of Those American Western Cowboy Romance Things

The morning ostensibly started with breakfast in bed, but took very little time to progress to Rose’s knickers being halfway across the room and draped over her laptop. She was pretty sure the Doctor had shot them there like a rubber band, but she hadn’t been watching so it was entirely possible they’d levitated across the room on their own and she just hadn’t noticed. He was forever nicking tech from Torchwood that would account for such a thing and really, it was turning out to be that sort of morning.

She had gotten cold at some point after a rather ambitious round of wake up sex and snuggled under the covers again and gone back to sleep. She woke to the covers being pulled off her body, but the sheet was stuck under and around her and the Doctor wasn’t quite able to tug it off. She didn’t open her eyes, but she knew he knew she was awake. She heard him stripping off his clothes and smiled quietly as he slipped onto the bed beside her. She really did love Saturday mornings.

“I’m curious,” he said a couple of minutes later.

She opened her eyes and turned towards him. Her eyes widened in surprise. He was wearing bright red cowboy boots, a matching red ten gallon hat, and nothing else. His hands were tucked back rather nonchalantly under his head and his ankles were crossed. The only thing that was missing was a sprig of wheat sticking out of his mouth to complete the picture. “I’ve noticed that about you,” she commented. “I think it’s why we’re always getting into so much trouble.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and she let the sheet that was more or less still covering her body strategically slip downwards to uncover most of one breast. His erection was standing rather happily at attention and she thought it’d be a shame to waste it on a little more sleep. He sat up on the bed and tugged the sheet down further with much more determination than before until both breasts were revealed. “Better. Where was I?” he asked distractedly as he reached out and gently stroked one nipple.

“You were curious,” she reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he said. “I was curious about this expression I ran across in this…well, technically I suppose it was a book, but being as it was one of Jackie’s it can hardly be classified as such.”

“An expression? And that’s why you’re dressed like this? Or rather undressed like this?” she smirked.

“Well, it was one of those American Western…cowboy romance…things,” he said. “But when she caught me reading it she snatched it away from me just when I was getting to the good part—.”

“You mean the sex,” she interrupted.

“That’s what I said. And when I asked her about it, she gave me a dirty look and refused to answer and said I should ask you.”

“Okay…” This did not bode well. “So what was it about?”

“Well, the cowboy, his name was Rock—and what sort of a name is Rock for a parent to name a child anyway? I mean, it’s really kind of stupid when you have all sorts of nice names that mean rock. Like Peter. Pierce. Craig. Pierre. Or Petra for a girl, but of course this wasn’t a girl, this was the hero of the tale. The girl was just named Janet. I don’t think much of the author’s imagination there, although the author’s initials are J.B. Richards so maybe her name is actually Janet and it’s a self insert. I could look it up. But still, I just don’t think…well, I mean they’ve got a Weevil at Torchwood named Janet and it made it really difficult to imagine her with her flowing blonde tresses, because I just kept picturing Weevil Janet in a very bad wig and—.”

“Doctor,” Rose interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“Did you have a point?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, of course, I always have a point.” He gave another hard tug on the sheet and revealed her stomach and hip bones. “Want to feel my point?” He nudged his erection into her.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” She smacked his arm.

“Anyway, my other point, and I did have one—.”

“Do you think you might be coming around to it any time soon?” she asked. “You know, so we can get to the good part. And by that I mean the sex.” She grinned at him and encircled his erection.

“I was getting there,” he said indignantly, but his eyes had fluttered shut and it was clear he wasn’t even slightly irritated. “Anyway,” he tugged the sheet all the way off her and ran his hand down her thigh. For a moment he lost focus as Rose gave him better access and a small hum emerged from his throat as she stroked him up and down.

“Focus, Doctor,” she said closing her eyes as he caressed the softness between her legs.

“Anyway,” he repeated in a voice that seemed to have raised an octave, “so he was talking, Rock that should be named Peter, I mean, was talking and he said to the stable hand James, nice sensible name, James—.”

“This from someone named the Doctor,” she murmured.

“Oi! He was saying that he’d never dream of riding a horse hard and putting it away wet, but he’d sure like to do it to Janet. Janet who’s not a Weevil in a wig, but Janet of the story Janet,” he said as if he thought Rose was the more likely one of them to lose the thread of the conversation.

“You asked my mum that?” Rose asked in a voice that nearly matched the Doctor’s for squeakiness. “Doctor, what have I told you about asking my mum sex questions?”

The Doctor thought for a minute. “Umm…that it was likely to get me a slap and I shouldn’t do it?” he recalled.

“Exactly. And that particular expression is…very rude to ask your new wife’s mother,” she said. “Especially since it implies that you…want to do that to me.”

“Do what to you?”

“Ride me hard and put me away wet,” she said in exasperation.

“Ride you?”

“Sexually, you lemon,” she said.

“Oi, no need for name-calling. Just because I’m not up on your culture—.”

“Very well aware of that, Doctor.”

“How am I supposed to ride you anyway? I mean technically you could do it to me, but I don’t see how I could do it to you. And isn’t the end of sex always wet? I mean between the sweat and the saliva and my ejaculate and your bodily secretions and us being too tired afterwards to get up and clean up right away, it’s always just a mess and that mess is always wet so—.”

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“That still doesn’t explain the cowboy boots. Or the hat.”

“Oh. Found them in the attic last week. Pete said there was a bunch of old costumes up there and since that big Vitex costume party is coming up, I thought I’d go through it. Found these and thought they’d go with the theme of the conversation.”

“And the lack of clothing?”

“Well, you’re not wearing any,” he answered reasonably. “And they sort of get in the way of having sex. I thought we could again. You seem to be fond of a second go around every Saturday morning and I know I am,” he said. “I could be Rock and you could be regular Janet, not Janet the Weevil in a wig, and we could see about this riding hard and putting away wet business.” He slid his finger between her folds, casually teasing her clit with the lightest of pressure. “You’ve already got the wet part down,” he said with a determined grin, “but not as wet as you’re going to be.”

“Ooooh, big talker,” Rose smirked at him waiting to see just what he planned to do to carry through on wherever the hell this was going and hope it worked out all right. It wasn’t the first time they’d tried this sort of role-playing or game-playing thing. The first time had been rather a disaster and had involved many more feathers than she could easily explain to her mother when the cleaning people had arrived later that afternoon to clean the guest house, although it hadn’t been nearly as big a disaster or as hard on the carpet as the time with all the puddings.

The third time hadn’t got off the ground at all when the red, vinyl cat suit the Doctor had bought for her had been one size too small, but she’d put it on anyway and then couldn’t get it off again when the time came to have sex. By the time he’d cut her out of it she was most definitely no longer in the mood. The professor and the naughty school girl had gone over quite well, though Rose was absolutely going to insist that if they did that one again that she got to be the naughty school girl and the Doctor had to be the professor.

But then there had been the fiasco when they’d gone camping with the melted marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers, which had admittedly been quite delicious, but had taken a very, very long time to get out of her hair and the sleeping bags, and if she’d thought her mum had gone ballistic over the feathers and puddings it had been nothing compared to the results of the human s’mores experiment, so she’d put the kibosh on that sort of fun and games for a while. This was the first time he’d made any attempt at it again in weeks. Fortunately they’d moved into their own flat right before they’d gotten married. She hoped this attempt would work better than the last.

As long as there were no spurs involved, she was game with a bit of cowboy/cowgirl role playing activity. She wouldn’t mind a lasso, though, she thought irreverently. He’d intimated once he wouldn’t mind tying her up to keep her from wandering off. Not that she did that much these days. It was more likely to be him getting into trouble and her and Torchwood coming to his rescue. Sometimes she thought he did it on purpose. Mostly because he was so bored being planet bound. Of course that boredom had caused him to focus on the strangest things. Right now it was cowboys.

He’d gotten heavily into American Westerns a week earlier, which was probably why when he’d seen her mum’s book he’d picked it up in the first place. Like everything that caught his interest these days, he had been determined to carry the theme into the rest of their lives, particularly their sex life. She hadn’t been sure what would happen that day on the beach when one of him walked away and one of him stayed, but she hadn’t really imagined this. The Doctor had taken to sex like a duck to water and she was one very, very happy and satisfied woman. Even when things failed spectacularly, she knew they’d both recover eventually and be eager to go again.

“Give me a minute,” she said and got up and went to the loo. While she was in there she put her hair into two long, blonde plaits. She headed back out to the bedroom and settled docilely back down on the bed, but it was only a front.

“Nice touch,” he said tweaking the end of one plait.

She was a bit more in the mood to do the riding herself than the being ridden so when he started getting that soft, whimpering little sound he made whenever she kissed him slowly, she took her opportunity and overpowered him, flipping him onto his back and settling into the saddle herself, so to speak. She nicked his cowboy hat and put it on top of her head and gave him a wicked smile as she twirled one of her plaits between her fingers and wiggled her hips saying, “Who’s getting ridden now?”

He stared at her in consternation for a moment, still surprised at the shift in his plans, but then she bounced up and down and he laughed. “Well, giddyup, cowgirl.” His attempt at a Texan drawl had her collapsing against him with peals of laughter, not at all the desired effect. “What’s wrong, little lady?” He ran his hands up and down her back, nails scratching lightly and giving her shivers. She sat back up.

“You do Texan about as well as I do Scottish,” she said.

He looked horrified. “That badly?” he asked, all trace of playfulness, and fortunately the accent as well, gone now.

She whacked his shoulder again at the implied insult. “Afraid so. Fortunately you have many other lovely qualities.”

“Oh, yes?” he said preening.

“Yep.” She said raising herself up and sliding slowly back down the length of his shaft.

“Like what?” he asked.

“You can boil a mean pot of water for tea,” she said rotating her hips in a little figure eight.

“Rose,” he said, pouting.

“And you always remember to put the toilet seat down,” she said with an exaggerated rocking motion, “which is brilliant of you, by the way.”

“So saving the universe, and your particular home planet, over and over again doesn’t rate highly in your lexicon of my talents?” he inquired. She leaned forward so that her breasts dangled in his face. He reached for one, pulling it into his mouth and giving the nipple a hard, sharp suck that made her lose her concentration for a moment.

“Well, I suppose it’s up there, too,” she allowed finally when she could speak. He rolled his tongue about the hard, high peak. “But it’s definitely not as important as the toilet seat thing.”

He bit lightly and she gasped.

She lifted herself up off him and settled just behind his penis sliding against him but not letting him back in. He pretended to sulk, but lost all ability to focus on it a moment later when she leaned forward and sucked on his pouting lower lip. Releasing it she dipped her tongue into his mouth, flicking lightly against the tip of his. They darted against each other until the Doctor got his equilibrium back and grabbed hold of the back of Rose’s head, pulling her closer and disallowing anymore teasing as he regained control.

With strong powerful strokes into her mouth he took the power and she willingly let him have it again for the moment. He was a tremendously good kisser after all. That prehensile tongue that was so good at everything else was even better at kissing. Though there was one more thing she really, really enjoyed when he did it.

Once he’d addled her brain a bit with the kissing, he flipped her off of him and she fell onto her side with an oomph. Quickly he scrambled behind her, pulling her up on her knees. He pushed himself inside with one hard thrust and a rather triumphant shout. One hand twisted in her plait. He wasn’t really pulling, but he was definitely asserting some dominance. She grinned.

“You know, you’re very good at…kissing,” she said breathlessly.

“Anything else I’m good at?” he asked shoving his hips into her smugly. If hips could be smug. Well, she was pretty sure his could. The smugness brought her back to herself for a moment. “Hmm…let me think,” she said tapping a finger against her cheek. “Nope…can’t think of anything el—.” She broke off mid-word with a squeal as the Doctor thrust so hard he knocked her onto her elbows. The cowboy hat fell off her head and he grabbed it, possessively sticking it back on his own.

“Now, Rose Tyler, let’s just see if we can refresh your memory,” he said.

“Ooooh is there a new sheriff in town?” she asked cheekily. It was the last thing she said as the Doctor set up a pounding, intoxicating rhythm that pounded all thought of anything but his penis filling her deeply and fully out of her head. He grasped her hips tightly, thrusting himself harder and harder inside her. She was going to be sore but it was definitely going to be that wonderful, thoroughly shagged, lovely kind of soreness.

“Harder,” she demanded greedily. Oh, she loved it when he got like this. It reminded her quite a bit of the first version of him she’d known, the one she would have sorely—ha!—loved to have shagged up against a wall in the TARDIS. The bedstead began to bang into the wall as he increased his pace and she felt the sweat beginning to drip from her body.

She heard him starting to grunt a little and wiggled one of her hands underneath her and started to rub frantically at her clit. Sometimes when he got like this he didn’t always wait for her and after all the teasing she’d done, if she didn’t bring herself off before he’d finished, he’d take at least an hour torturing her to orgasm. She didn’t think she could take that after this rather thorough possession of her body.

The tension that had been coiling within her only took another moment to burst and none too soon. As her body clamped down hard around him she felt the first spasming spurts of his orgasm hitting her. She cried out his name as she shook with the power of it all, every nerve ending firing, every muscle contracting.

She collapsed on the bed and he fell on top of her, his half-hard penis lodged partway inside her. She sighed as they lay there, his hand still wrapped in one plait.

“Best sex ever,” she stated.

“Ever?” he said. “Even better than that time with the pineapple and the—.”

“Ever,” Rose repeated firmly. He sighed against her and tightened his hold in her hair. “I love you,” she whispered softly.

“I love you,” he replied his breath warm in her ear.

He finally softened and moved off her body, releasing the plait. She rolled over and smiled at him and he gathered her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. When he let her go she grinned and then with a devilish grin she nicked the cowboy hat again, putting it firmly back on her head. “And that, my dear Doctor, would be the very definition of riding someone hard and putting them away wet.”

He smiled at her. “Next time,” he said, “you wear the cowboy boots.”


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