Doctor Who: Panic Moon Rising Ch. 05

And so he shrugged off his thoughts of the older woman as he closed her door behind him, slipping out into the street and away from the windows where she was no doubt keeping an eye on him. He waited until he was outside of any possible range of vision she might have before he turned back toward the house. It had been years since he had had to hop a fence.

Amy's backyard was... haunting, in a way that few locations could be, to a man like Sander Hackett. This, more than any other place, was the crucible of Amy's development as a person, the site of the moment that would go on to define her life, and her death. This was the place where the last Time Lord had carelessly crashed his timeship, and begun the process of tearing a young woman's life to shreds, piece by piece.

First her childhood, then her adulthood...

A stray thought caught hold in his mind, sticking long enough to be filed away. He had never considered it seriously, but the Doctor meeting Amy had far more to do with his tenth incarnation than it did his eleventh. After all, it had been Ten's interminable death throes and self pity that had damaged the TARDIS to the extent that it had required a crash landing in the first place. If the man had been able to accept regeneration with any kind of grace or self awareness, the Ponds would never have needed to replace their shed, and little Amelia might have been able to have a normal life. Melody might have had parents, she might have been human, rather than the grotesque assassin-paramour that had risen up in the wake of the Time Lord's meddling.

Come to think of it, most of Sander's grievances with the Doctor tended to originate with his tenth regeneration...

Fortunately, present concerns stopped him from dwelling too much on that line of reasoning; all too soon, that welcome mat of a garden lattice rose up in front of him, and he grinned. He felt firmly stuck in his teenage years now, clambering in and out of his bedroom window- after disabling his house's security systems, naturally- with practiced ease, all to spend nights out with his brother, or his sisters, or... Elsa...

Damn, he'd gone and made himself depressed again...

Though he was certainly less than completely physically active in his day to day life, he made sure to get enough exercise to keep nominally fit. He scaled the wall with ease, finding the window not only unlocked, but open. It led inside to the end of the upstairs hallway, and from a door just to the left of him Sander could hear the sound of running water. He grinned; it turns out Amy was still credulous enough to trust the likes of him.

Taking care to keep his footsteps light and undetectable from below, Sander crept to the door and, after debating whether or not to knock, opted to simply open the door. She knew he was coming, anyway. Even so, she started nervously as he slipped into the room, and it wasn't hard to see why; her appearance made the blood sing in his veins. He felt himself freeze, stock still, but it was hard to tell; he couldn't really feel his legs in that moment.

The light from the window caressed her form, pale skin from head to toe. Amy's curves almost glittered, radiant under the water. She was naked, of course she was, that's what people did when they took a shower, but seeing it was a completely different matter. Sander watched an individual droplet of water become the luckiest water drop on the planet, rolling between Amy's breasts and down her belly, ending its journey between her legs, in the light dappling of red hair that lay there. Sander's mind presented him with an exceedingly vivid image of his mouth following the same path. He twitched.

But as he watched her, Amy watched him in equal measure. And despite the thrumming, impossible to ignore heat that filled the two of them, she couldn't help the paroxysm of embarrassment that swept through her. Her arms moved automatically, sliding protectively over her chest and the apex of her thighs, cheeks blooming red. Sander almost laughed, before he remembered himself and stifled it, grinning broadly... for a moment, anyway. Before her inhibitions stopped being funny and started being sexy.

She stayed under the water, as if it would protect her. Sander knew better; it would do so for only as long as it took him to remove his clothes. If he even got that far; he was already moving forward before his shirt had hit the ground. His pants only barely made it to the floor just shy of getting wet. Amy blushed furiously.

Sander realized that this was the first time she had seen him naked; even during their nominal first time in this reality he had never fully stripped down. In fact, given she was still so young and in this kind of a town... it was possible she'd simply never been in a situation like this with any guy. Furtive, fumbling sex in the dark hardly counted, but this? This was confronting. He was right. There.

And he wanted her.

He stepped under the water, bare feet tapping wetly on the dark red tiles below. One hand reached out behind him almost automatically and slid the shower curtain closed behind them, enclosing the two of them in their own private world. Below his feet, Sander could almost feel Sharon moving about, but as long as they remembered to be stealthy... she would be none the wiser.

Amy had stepped back at his approach, still covering herself out of a misplaced sense of modesty, but Sander could see the way her fingers trembled, moved of their own accord. She might have been covering her breasts and pussy, but that wasn't all she was doing; her fingers down below made slow, circuitous motions between her legs that were definitely not related to covering herself.

There is always a time when one must simply surrender to the moment. Personally, Sander hated the idea of being manipulated, and found himself vaguely offended that this moment was overshadowed by an alien being reaching into his mind and robbing him of any true agency in this. He would be in this shower with Amelia Pond until both were satisfied, and that was a fact, now. He had no say in it.

Sander disliked not being in control.

But, though he couldn't control the ultimate outcome of this situation, he could certainly control the events within it; his cock throbbed, desperate to bury itself as deeply inside Amy as it possibly could, but Sander was more self-possessed than to allow it outright. He gripped Amy's hips, kept her back pressed against the tiles, taking a moment to marvel at the play of water over her luscious curves, before shooting her a smoldering look. Seconds later, he was lowering himself to his knees and pulling her hand away from her pussy.

Amy blushed furiously, as Sander pried her thighs apart, exposing her pink and swollen lips more completely to his sight. With her fit of modesty now dismantled, Amy offered herself to him, craning her hips away from the wall, desperate for anything he could give her. When he blew a gentle stream of breath across the sodden lips of her pussy, she gasped, fingers running through his increasingly wet hair. Obligingly, Sander gave her what she wanted, leaning in and running his tongue across the aching dampness between her legs.

Without allowing himself to go much deeper, the taste of Amy's pussy was watered down, reduced to the saltiness of her skin and the vague suggestion of the water cascading down from above. But the effect on the redhead was almost immediate; she moaned, altogether too loudly, as her hips rolled into his mouth, taking in as much of Sander's long, languorous licking as she could. Her tall form quaked as the tip of Sander's tongue circled her clit, feeling it swell against him. And she kept moaning...

'Amy,' Sander interjected softly, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at her. 'Quiet. Unless you want to be interrupted. Unless you want me to have to stop...'

'No...God no...' Amy whimpered, squirming, smooth skin against cold tiles. Each individual droplet of water gliding down her body caught the sunlight in its own unique way, dripping down cheeks that glistened crimson, cresting breasts that rose and fell with each panting breath she took, eventually joining with Sander at every point of contact between his body and hers. It made her form seem alive in ways that extended beyond the literal, hungry and wanting and sexual, the kind of thing that only glimmered beneath the surface of Amy Pond under normal circumstances. She was beautiful, and raw, and honest, like she so rarely had an opportunity to be.

'Anyone ever done this to you before?' Sander murmured, stopping only to brush his lips gently across Amy's, making her shiver.

'Never,' She answered quickly, and he rewarded her by dragging the flat of his tongue across her swollen clit, taking whole seconds just to listen to her breath catch in her throat. Her response hardly surprised him; she was just eighteen, after all. The boys she knew, the ones of the appropriate age at least, would be far more concerned with penetration than with treating her right. But Sander was experienced, not just in general but with her specifically. He knew exactly what to do.

And she became lost to it. Her body flooded with hormones, compelled with alien accuracy into a fugue of arousal that was near impossible to escape. Sander was too, and only his stubborn personality kept him from standing up and putting himself in a far more interesting position. It was all either of them could do to remember the situation they were in, to keep quiet despite their bodies screaming out for noise, and heat, and movement.

Here he was, dropped out of his own time and into an aborted universe careening inexorably into Silence, and the first thing he does is fuck a future model...

Well...

Amy's fingers wound through his damp hair, pulling him closer, almost pleading for his tongue to continue its work. Sander was happy to oblige; he pressed his mouth deeper, craning his neck to allow his teeth to play over Amy's swollen lips, tongue sliding between them to taste her. Her thighs shook, as she felt the slick, textured pressure of a tongue inside her for the first time.

Much as she was personally enjoying the attention, Amy couldn't help the nagging feeling of powerlessness; just how much of this was genuinely her, and how much was... well, the alien? Her body felt like an unknown, acting in odd ways she couldn't quite control. It was like driving a car with the wheels out of alignment; the basics were still there, but everything was swerving in ways she didn't want it to.

And so she did the only thing she could do, other than writhe against the slowly heating tiles behind her and hoping she wouldn't pull a muscle with the force of her tensing thighs: she talked. It was something she was good at, at least.

'I- Mmm! I still have q-questions...' She found herself whimpering, unable to keep her voice steady with Sander's lips sucking at her clit.

'Do you now?' Sander's voice seemed at least outwardly composed, but Amy could definitely detect a hoarseness that hadn't been there earlier. Still, he spoke without pulling away, hot breath caressing her stickiness, making her quiver.

'Of course!' Amy succeeded at keeping her voice mostly steady that time, though she lapsed into a moan at the end, as his tongue slipped between her lips and inside her. 'Why wouldn't I?'

His eyes flicked up at her, leveling an intensely wanting gaze up her body, seeming to regard every inch of her nakedness in turn, before reaching her eyes. He exhaled forcefully, sending another stream of warm air singing over Amy's sensitive skin. She closed her eyes, losing herself to it for a moment, and all of a sudden Sander rose.

He knew that if he really wanted to, he could get her to drop this line of questioning with just a little bit of persistence; after all, neither of them were in their right mind. It would be a simple thing, but why bother? The questions were going to come anyway, some easy, some hard, and like it or not he was going to have to supply some answers. Why not do it now, while she was malleable and locked in a more submissive mindset?

So he rose, trailing stimulating licks and bites up her belly, across her breasts and up her collarbone. As he reached her neck he had a moment of strangeness, encountering her without her Command Collar, but it quickly passed. When he looked her in the eyes, he had to remind himself that they were doing so as equals. To some degree.

'Alright. Questions,' One hand pushed her back harder against the tiles, the other gripped her leg, slipped into the crook of her knee and lifted, so she wrapped her calf around him. He was intent, and aroused, and dangerously close to being inside her, 'So let's play a game...'

The hand at her chest slid lower, taking time to explore her curves before it reached its destination, lining himself up with her pussy. His hips moved, the tip of his cock piercing her outer folds, shower water running over the join between them. Amy gasped, and Sander had to physically restrain her from pressing the two of them together.

'We still need to avoid attracting attention, Amy,' He murmured, watching her chest rise and fall, breasts glistening wonderfully. 'So I'm going to go slow, and you're going to bite your lip. If you can keep quiet while I fuck you, I'll answer your questions...'

He moved, and his progress was agonizingly slow. Amy clenched her jaw as the rest of her opened up to accept him, strangling the long and loud moan she wanted to make in its infancy. Sander was right about needing to be quiet, although that went against everything Amy's body wanted her to be doing right now. By the look in his eye, he wanted that too; if they had their way, their sex would echo throughout this house.

It struck Amy then that everything they had done, as... explosive as it had been, had been conducted under this same enforced silence. Leadworth pressed down on them both, and as a consequences they had to hide, and enjoy this less. A mental note got added to her desire-addled brain: find a way to circumvent that.

She only breathed out, exhaling an explosive, shaking breath, when he was completely inside her. The simple feeling of fullness drove her near mad with a desire to start moving, to fuck him back until his control broke and he nailed her until the tiles cracked beneath her. Water dripped between them, ticking her skin, mixing with the sticky wetness on her thighs, diluting it and sending it further down. Amy shook, wondering what was taking him so long.

'Well?' His voice was rough, barely in control. He licked his lips, and Amy had a sudden flashback of where those lips and that tongue had been a few minutes ago.

God damn, why wasn't he doing anything?

'H-how did you get here?' It took Amy a moment or two to even formulate a question, with her body going into meltdown. When she did, it wasn't the most pertinent of questions, but it had been on her mind; how does one get stranded back in time, without a time machine?

'I got hit with a backfire from a malfunctioning time machine,' He grunted, and it wasn't technically a lie. Certainly, he could rely on Amy not to have a follow up question about what kind of time machine. Especially now, when... well...

A tremor rippled through her body as he withdrew, breath coming in pants, low and desperate to keep quiet. In truth, Sander didn't know how long he would be able to maintain control of himself; she was so beautiful like this, alluring and wet and... damn, this was turning out to be harder than he thought.

'Another one,' He felt his voice shake with the effort of not... well, using her. His mind supplied the kinds of images he would have reveled in, had stealth not been a major concern. He had so much to draw on; he knew what she looked like in a collar, knew what she looked like in climax, in tears, in both at the same time...

Everything the alien wanted...

It had to be matching his desires with hers, surely... these things, these parasites, they prized being hidden above all else. They worked with subtlety, taking the things their hosts desired and amplifying them; to anyone watching, the host's behavior didn't change, it just became more persistent.

And Sander knew what Amy desired, even if she wasn't willing to admit it...

He wanted it too, but then, he always had. Meeting Mara had opened him up to the dark, violent kind of sex that was addictive in ways a drug could only aspire to. He had an animal inside him that was all the more vicious for the introspection that had caused him to acknowledge it was there. Sander Hackett was fully involved with his desires, and as a result they became weapons for him, rather than controlling him.

Except now...

God, if he just had the chance, he would introduce Amy to that world years before Trismestigius...

'Ask me something!' He growled, holding himself back from the precipice of plunging into her so that she could. But he was impatient, and she wasn't being fast enough.

'I... I can't think-' Amy almost sobbed, desperation edging her words. Her entire being was wrapped up in the idea of sating her desire, right now. It was impossible to think; the doubts that had been so present in her mind not so long ago had evaporated, and been replaced with thoughts of his teeth on her skin, and his cock in her, fucking her so hard he left bruises, so that she came so powerfully it ached...

'Please,' Was all she could get out, the words turning incoherent in her mouth as Sander slid forward again, filling her up. In that moment his cock, enthroned as it was in her pulsing and wet pussy, was the center of her world. She angled her hips just right, getting all of him that she could inside of her. Her clit throbbed.

'Please what, Amy?' Those intense blue eyes locked onto hers, his expression angry and shameless and powerful. Images, fantasies pooled in his mind, blurring, so fast as to stop him alighting on any one of them for very long. All of them contained Amy, and collars, and chains. Leashes and fucking. Begging and sobbing and moaning and the kinds of orgasm you really had to work for...

'You bite psychiatrists but you just spread your legs and whimper for me,' He continued, his voice a low growl that almost made her flinch. Amy had heard that tone before, from men with minds enflamed by too much drink and the allure of her kissongram's costumes. It was the tone that made a girl run, stick with her friends until it was safe to leave and then castigate herself later for even considering what that tone might have entailed if she had let herself fall victim to it.

It was the tone of voice that promised the things Amy would get off on later, secretly in her bed, with shame coloring her cheeks and the expectations of Leadworth morality ringing in her ears.

'You take to this too well, Pond...' He kissed her, hard. Hard enough that her head hit the wall behind her, and the taste of him lingered on her tongue for several moments afterward. Hard, in just the way she'd always wanted it, 'You want it. You love it. But Leadworth doesn't exactly have the kind of man who could satisfy you, hmm?'

'Not even a little,' She answered, savagely. In a way, Amy was surprised she had even been able to form the words, what with every juddering thought she had being consumed by sex impulses she only barely understood. Sander's fingers were so tight against her collarbone, pressing in painfully, in ways that matched her most secretive desires so perfectly. Fear and arousal intertwined, everything in her wanted to give in to it.

'So please what, Pond?' He didn't have a blue box, but right now Sander was standing at the edge of a brand new world, beckoning for Amy to follow him. The advantage he had was that, unlike the last alien stranger she had met, he had come back...