Doctor Who: Panic Moon Rising Ch. 01

Actually, yes she did. Heat swept up her body in waves, and she knew exactly what she wanted, it was just that she didn't know why. Why this was happening, why she wanted it, why she was feeling the way she did... So many things. A small, juddering ball of panic formed in Amy's gut; she had the feeling that everything in her was completely out of her control, and it scared her.

When she looked over, she could see the pale Welsh woman looking just as flushed as Amy herself felt. She looked back at Amy with a level of distrust that was more than a little shocking from a stranger, along with... or was she just seeing what she wanted to see?... a desire to match Amy's own, though hidden far better than Amy felt she was hiding her own. Surely, this dark haired woman could see the hunger in Amy, the strange compulsion she felt to throw her down on the grass, and...

Why?

Her rational mind fought against it, but that alien, unprovoked want had already crept up her spine and wrapped itself around her brain. Under normal circumstances, Amy could have dealt with her arousal, as inexplicable as it was, with her usual tactic; waiting until she got home and taking care of it herself. But now it throbbed, thundered through her mind...

She wondered... What would happen if she asked? What if she begged?

'So, where do I need to go?' The Welsh woman's voice was low, and oddly sensual to Amy's ears. It was probably just subjectivity, though. Definitely. Although... the stranger had stopped stretching herself to look over the hedges, opting instead to stare at Amy with a guarded interest. Like a kind of magnetism.

'Um, yes,' Amy blinked again, heavily, and forced herself to look away, to place her line of sight over the greenery and toward the village. Always the outsider, Leadworth had never seemed so far away and alien to her. The woman moved in a little closer... Why did she do that? 'See that turning there? You just-'

She must have just lost her footing. The grass they were standing on was long and unkempt, set over uneven and rather rocky ground. If one wasn't prepared to be careful- say, if they spent every day on even and manufactured city paths rather than the randomness of country terrain- then slipping and falling was easy. It was why the children of Leadworth always seemed to sport scabs or bruises; hell, Amy herself sure had when she was growing up. But one moment things were stable, and the next the stranger had cried out, and slid forward into Amy, shoulders colliding, her weight carrying her further, her back sliding along Amy's chest as she rushed to support her... and it was a revelation.

The feel of the older woman against her sent a tremor through Amy's body, her skin screaming at the sheer heat and weight and life of another person in her hands. The struggle to stop her from falling completely was awkward, but to Amy it was shockingly pleasant; the ache in her head disappeared completely, replaced with a kind of allover tingle and a need to press further. She knew she was gripping the Welsh woman too tightly, but she couldn't bring herself to loosen her hands.

Her mind flooded with hypotheticals; what it would feel like if this stranger tore off her clothes and pushed her down onto the grass. What her tongue would feel like inside her mouth, on her skin, running up her thighs...

Why?

'Ooh, sorry about that,' Accented syllables trailed off into silence as Amy felt the same tremor go through the stranger, and all at once they were far too close. 'I just... I... tripped...'

Something snapped.

With a suddenness that surprised Amy, the stranger's tongue was in her mouth, lips pressed to hers with desperate verve. She made a noise of total shock and began kissing back simultaneously, the stranger's head turned at an odd angle to maintain the kiss, eyes drooping closed as Amy's fingers wrapped tighter around her. They broke apart after almost a minute of sustained contact, leaving Amy bereft and whimpering with unmet need.

'Please...' She said, voice trembling. It sounded like a plea, and Amy was surprised to realize that it was; there was an odd helplessness about her expression. In response, the stranger shoved, sending Amy tripping over her own feet and onto the grass below. Damp earth rushed up to meet the back of her shirt; there would be grass stains, for sure.

Not that it even mattered to Amy, once she of the Welsh accent slithered down on top of her...

There was a thrumming, energetic verve to their second kiss, all rolling tongues and moaning and soft lips pressed desperately together. There was heat, as their bodies pressed together, and terrible confusion, as neither girl was able to place exactly why what was happening was happening; only that their insides throbbed so powerfully as to almost hurt, and there was only one way to quench that.

The Welsh woman pressed in, all insistent force and need, pushing Amy's head back into the grass. She felt fingers probing, slipping under the hem of her shirt, and for a single dizzying moment she understood just how out of control this had become. With her rationality waning under the weight of her ever growing lust, she pushed the stranger away, one thing in particular needling at her. She had been brought up in a certain way, after all.

'Wait, wait,' Amy shook her head, voice unsteady. She shivered as the stranger tried to dip back in, lips on her neck, 'What's your name?'

She blinked, 'Does it matter?'

'Yeah!'

'Gwen. Yours?'

'I'm Amy,' She tried not to sound too needy, but feared she had failed. A moment passed.

'Now?' Gwen was almost panting, her fingers gripping Amy's hips with possessive strength. The realization of this sent a tremor through Amy's body, and Gwen grinned lustily.

'Now,' Amy said breathlessly, craning her neck to recapture Gwen's lips. It seemed like pure madness, writhing behind the bushes with a woman she had just met, but every nerve in her body blistered, her mind extending only as far as the supple flesh of the woman on top of her.

At first the insistent, screaming want had entered her body in a way that seemed external to her, like a flood washing in from outside, rather than the usual welling up from within. But now Amy could identify the flotsam and jetsam in the tide, the little instinctual fantasies that lodged in her head in the heat of the moment; jagged images burned into her mind at the moment of climax. Things she had never told anyone, things that had to have come from within.

This desire was hers. She wanted Gwen, here in this moment. More than that... She wanted Gwen to... to...

Hold her down. To press her into the dirt and fuck her, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make her see spots. To make her do things, make her say things that she had never...

Oh god...

Instinctively, her legs opened, allowed Gwen to press between them, sliding her body into the gap. Her body trembled under the woman's exploring fingers, as her hands slid to the curve of her ass. This was what she wanted...

To Gwen, things were far less clear cut; she had been with Torchwood long enough to have picked up a few things, and frankly this situation was more than a little reminiscent of her first day on the job anyway. But like her first day on the job, she found it increasingly hard to care beyond the dampness spreading between her legs. Of course this was insane; she didn't know this Amy, and she certainly had no interest in women before today... Even leaving aside the age difference- and Gwen was sure that Amy was a decade younger than her at least- this would have been vastly out of character for the Torchwood operative. With her last vestige of rational thought, she wondered whether Amy was an alien, or just possessed by one...

Her fingers gripped harder.

And that was the other thing; if she examined her actions, Gwen could tell she was being rougher than she usually was. Amy let out the occasional yelp into her mouth as her teeth or nails worked just a little too hard, enough to cause pain that was no longer nice. She wasn't usually like this, but it was so delicious, the way Amy opened herself up like that, she had to take advantage. As her tongue explored Amy's mouth, something hot and insistent fell upon Gwen's mind, close to anger, but focused and throbbing. Something she wanted, and something Amy would give to her.

For the longest time the young redhead's hands had been by her sides on the ground, as if she were in shock and didn't know what to do with them. Over time, she summoned up the courage to make them creep up Gwen's jeans toward her ass, wanting so much to touch her. As they reached her thighs, the Welsh woman let out a growl into Amy's mouth, her own hands gripping Amy's wrists and pressing them to the grass above her head, kissing harder, faster. Wanting more, intent on taking more than ever before.

'Don't you move, Amy...' She said, her voice soft but her words iron hard. Amy whimpered as that wonderful mouth travelled down the curve of her chin, teeth laying into the skin of her neck, down, down...

So, this was the benefit of experience, eh?

Amy yelped, as Gwen's fingers tightened in her shirt, drawing the fabric tight against her back and sides, balling it into her fist. There was a look to the older woman, a kind of strength to her gaze that Amy rarely saw, and the force of it made her shiver. As she watched, Gwen brought a finger to her lips, inclining her head over to the hedges.

'Quiet, now,' Her accent made the words sound strange, near to alien. 'Wouldn't want to be discovered like this, would you? Remember, I get to leave... You live here.'

And then she felt the sunlight hit her bare skin, as the hem of her shirt was pulled up, over her pale, soft stomach. With the sky completely cloudless, there was nothing to obscure the sun, and the light made her skin near luminous, the sight of it putting a predatory expression on Gwen's face. The dark haired woman straddled her for a moment, before leaning back in, breasts pressed to Amy's now revealed bra, eyes drilling into hers from mere inches away. Amy was left in her shadow.

'You young girls, with your short skirts...' Gwen's voice was almost unrecognizable from before, silken and thrumming, far deeper. If Amy closed her eyes, she could almost believe it was someone else speaking, though she felt doing so would be somehow dangerous. She needed to observe, to see this happening to her. That voice made her shiver, 'You're just asking for it...'

Fingers slid up the insides of Amy's thighs, insistent even as she reflexively squeezed them together. Gwen pushed in, looping her thumb and forefinger into Amy's panties and, with deliberate slowness, eyes never leaving hers, slid them down. In a moment of bizarre self consciousness, all Amy could think about was the hope that she hadn't been wearing anything too embarrassing. Still, she squirmed and blushed as Gwen stopped as her panties reached her knees, settling them there. If anyone were to discover them here, there would no longer be any doubt as to what they were doing...

'Let's see what else you're hiding...' Gwen whispered, sitting up and shifting her weight so that she straddled Amy's legs. Her fingertips tracked up that pale stomach, over bra covered breasts and a throat pulsing with each panting breath. When they reached her cheek they lifted up, sliding into her hair and... pulling.

Amy had no choice but to cry out, back curling upward as Gwen tugged her by the hair into something more closely resembling a seated position, face to face with the older woman, tears welling in her eyes. Gwen smiled sweetly.

'Thank you,' She said, placing a gentle kiss on Amy's lips as her hand remained in place, keeping Amy in position as her free hand crept around her back to undo the clasp on the stricken girl's bra, 'Arms up.'

Whimpering, Amy raised her arms as Gwen hooked a finger into her bra and pulled it away. As more and more of herself was exposed, Amy had another moment of clarity, where the sheer spontaneous madness of what she was doing hit her all at once. A part of her felt like pulling away, but her body was blind to that, aching for more. Even the hand in her hair contributed to it, the roughness of Gwen's manner calling to something inside her that she had spent too long denying.

Very quickly, she realized that she was already so wet...

Gwen purred softly in the back of her throat as she cast the bra aside, pointedly out of Amy's reach. She wanted more, but at the same time she couldn't help but wonder why; aside from her brief, chemically assisted dalliance with a woman possessed by a sex alien, she had never had any interest in women, and certainly not as... violently, as she did now. The mere sight of Amy's gentle curves and panting, squirming desperation made her clit throb and soaked her underwear through. She had no clue what had gotten into her, but... she didn't care.

Without warning, she released her grip on Amy's hair, sending the young woman collapsing back to the grass. She cried out as she dropped, far too loudly for their exposed position. The flat of Gwen's palm pressed down on Amy's chest, keeping her from rising again, fingers spread to touch the soft fullness of the redhead's now bare chest. She winked.

'What did I say? Hush,' She said. 'Now, you strike me as one of those teasey jailbait types, you know, the kind with more exposed leg than experience. So, my question to you is, shall I get my kit off too, or would you prefer this as a quiet, out of the way kind of thing that you regret later?'

Amy twitched, her eyes still filled with pained tears, and she looked away, out over the field beyond. There was Leadworth, familiar enough, if boring. If she looked up... She didn't know what she saw. Something new. Gwen stared back, expectantly, blisteringly confident, though flushed and breathing just as hard as Amy herself. How could she bear her obvious arousal so easily, when Amy felt as though she was falling apart from within?

Gwen's weight upon her was a constant reminder; Leadworth might be all around her, but right now she was out in uncharted waters, for reasons that still weren't entirely clear. Her hips subconsciously rose to press up against Gwen, and the Welsh woman's answering grin told her everything she needed to know.

'Yes...' She said, her voice tiny and layered with need. If Gwen didn't start touching her soon, she would go insane, 'Please... Please...'

'Oh?' Gwen tilted her head, now completely involved in the madness she had gotten embroiled in. Amy just sounded too alluringly helpless to pass up, 'I'm going to need more than that, Amy. I'm not going to be teased by ambiguity... you need to say it.'

'I...' Amy stopped, shuddered. The woman atop her wanted her to say what she wanted... but Amy doubted she was prepared for the full truth of that, 'I want...'

I want you to hurt me. Touch me, hit me, gag me or make me scream, I don't care... Just do something to me!

'I want to see you naked, Gwen...' Finally, she choked it out, the tears she had been unable to wipe away spilling down her cheeks. The old wants, the ones that assailed her in the midst of orgasm had returned, stronger and more vivid than ever. What was wrong with her?

Gwen laughed, low in her throat, staring down at Amy from on high, seeming distant and unattainable. Though she ached to reach out and touch her, Amy forced herself to keep her hands limp above her head, where Gwen had left them. Even so, her palms tingled.

'I think I could do that for you,' Gwen tilted her head to one side and winked. For the most part she seemed so in control, but there were signs that she was just holding back, in the unevenness of her breath, and the flush of her cheeks, 'But it all depends. You'd need to take care of me first...'

'Yes! Yes, anything,' Amy quavered, close to sobbing with need. 'Just, please...'

'Oh, look at you,' Gwen chided, chuckling. 'You young little teases, you're all alike. You look all savvy and svelte in your cute little outfits, but the moment you're faced with something real, you get all frantic and flushed... But since you asked so nicely, little girl...'

She moved a finger slowly in front of Amy's face, making her follow it with her eyes, before she brought her hands to her chest, unbuttoning her shirt. Beneath her, Amy was rapt, her eyes following every undone button down the line, more flesh exposed with each one. Even when she wasn't looking at them, Amy could feel those eyes burning down at her, beating across her skin... She felt like her mere gaze would leave bruises in its wake.

'Somebody likes what she sees...' The Welsh woman lilted, syllables rough and angular. Her eyes drifted to Amy's twitching fingers, 'But you keep those hands to yourself until I tell you to. I know how handsy you young people can get...'

Her shirt lay open, undone and swaying around the well muscled flesh beyond it. As Amy's eyes drifted from her body to her eyes, another wave of crippling lust swept over her, prickling her skin, throwing her mind into disarray. Unbidden, her entire body lifted, pushed up off of the grass, hands scrabbling desperately for purchase on Gwen's clothes, pulling her in, slamming their mouths together.

And for a moment, it was good; they writhed together, falling back to the grass, all need and want and nothing else. Amy's sudden spasm of desire seemed to have been replicated in Gwen, as the older woman moaned against Amy's questing tongue, nails trailing red lines on the skin of Amy's hips. But, as soon as it had begun, it was over; Gwen's eyes opened, she pushed away, pinning Amy beneath a hand at her throat.

'No no, hands to yourself, I said,' She growled, breath still catching in her throat. 'Slutty little thing... I know that might be how it goes with your little boyfriends in the back of their car or whatever, but not here.'

Amy nodded, no longer able to trust her voice. Gwen's fingers pressed just a little too tightly at her throat, that and her words going straight to Amy's pussy. Her head was filled with dark, violent things...

'See, the way things work here,' Gwen continued, voice liquid smooth. 'Is that I'm worked up near out of my mind, and I'm thinking that's your fault, jailbait. I need to get off, and you're going to help me. If you're nice and cooperative, we'll see about seeing to you too...'

Slowly, deliberately, Gwen unzipped her jeans. Behind her, Amy's thighs clenched together, electric lust throbbing in her clit, her heart beating like a drum. Yet a nervous pit had opened up in her stomach; if her experience with men was limited, her experience with women was non-existent, and beyond the heat that had overtaken her, Amy's mind was a bundle of nervousness. Still, she couldn't help what she wanted, and right now her eyes were glued to Gwen's hips as they shifted, weight lifting off her body so those jeans could be lowered.

She stood momentarily, just long enough to wriggle her pants down her hips, panties following. The sunlight dappled her pale skin with a series of shifting shadows, rippling across her thighs as she spread her legs enough to cast the obstructive garments aside. Amy had to force herself to keep her hands still, her pussy ached and begged for her touch... but this wasn't a usual day, and her usual approach wasn't going to fly.

That was the way she would normally take care of her desires; if they troubled her, as they often did, there was no harm because she was alone. An orgasm by her fingers was merely a cure for the dark thoughts that lay heavy and wanting in her mind. Beyond the crack in her wall, Amy's biggest fear was allowing those desires to build up and accumulate in her to the point where she found herself acting on them; an easy way to get hurt, she felt. No, that was the path of victimhood, that was putting herself in harm's way, and for what? The possibility of a cheap thrill?