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Once is never enough with a man like you

                       savvyliterate

There were benefits to having multiple incarnations of your husband running around out there. River could pick whichever one suited her mood at the time. Although she had run into every incarnation of her husband to date – and the latest truly shocked her – there were only a few she spent any considerable amount of time around and even fewer that she’d taken to her bed.

There was her boy in the bow tie. The ancient god with the face of a barely pre-pubescent teen who at times worshipped the ground she walked on and was absolutely terrified of her. River once commented to Amy that it was like observing every awkward ’80s coming-of-age movie come to life, and her mother laughed so loud for so long that the Doctor and Rory were convinced she’d taken ill. Amy proceeded to spend the next week playing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” whenever the Doctor came in the room, and River had to rush out of the console room just so she could laugh.

But this was the Doctor who married her, and if she favored a long, romantic night with dancing and hours upon hours of making love, he was the one she called up. When she felt like playing the domme, he was ready with his bow tie or handcuffs to be her sub. When they weren’t playing kinky games, he treated her like spun glass – like she would shatter if he did the wrong thing. Bless. He really ought to know better, River thought time after time again, when he proceeded to go to pieces over a mere paper cut.

Then there was his eighth incarnation. Oh, he had those lovely curls that he shorn not long before the Time War. River missed them dreadfully. His voice was a walking orgasm, she mused, oozing of liquid sex. He could read the phonebook and she’d probably come then and there. She took dreadful advantage of his frequent bouts of amnesia in that particular reincarnation.  He loved a bit more like his bow-tie incarnation, but without the spun glass tendencies. He particularly enjoyed her riding crop, and that made River cross her legs whenever she thought of one particular night when she had him secured with the handcuffs and well … pity his memory got wiped shortly thereafter. She remembered at least. With regular frequency. She eventually had to replace her favorite rabbit because of it.
If she was in the mood to spend time around a Doctor who treated her like an abnormal insect, there was his tenth incarnation. So suspicious and reckless in that pinstripe suit and spiky hair. The shroud of Rose Tyler clung to him like that well-fitting trench coat. Such a pity. River certainly didn’t mind a threesome in the right circumstances, but she didn’t fancy sharing her bed with the ghost of a London shop girl. She left her husband to his grief, but she could see the glimmers of hope in his eyes when she flirted and brushed against him in provocative ways.

It was a victory the day she noticed his trousers tent with an erection he was trying to hide after he got a good look at the sheer gown she’d worn to a Trafaxan ball. And she couldn’t help herself. She cornered him in a dark corner and went down on him, just to see his reaction. It surprised her when he was completely into it, fingers threading through her curls as his hips pulsed. She liked comparing the various orgasms of her husband, and this one gave a strangled moan as she worked him through his climax. He didn’t return the favor, and she didn’t expect it, so she wound up taking a detour to the loo to take care of her own needs. Thank goodness she enlarged her handbag enough to carry a vibrator around when she needed one. A bit of hallucinogenic lipstick and Sandshoes forgot he peeked through the slit in the stall door to watch her get off.

Then there was the bonus Doctor. The one with all the new regenerations. The Scottish fox. Oh, now there was a quick fuck. But not in a bad way, oh not at all. Those blue eyes of his would land on her, with the desire in them so molten that she had to start carrying around an extra pair of knickers because he would ruin the pair she had on without even touching her. She had to have him, right then, right now, and their couplings were often quick, frantic, and up against vertical surfaces. There was nothing shy about this Doctor, nothing at all. They bickered like Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn on-screen and made love like them off-screen. He was the dominant one, and she enjoyed getting to play the submissive for the first time. She often left encounters with him with bruises and bite marks blooming over her limbs and feeling exhilarated.

He also greatly enjoyed using her own toys on her, just to see her response. It was during one of these sessions when the comparisons flashed through her mind. Just quick recollections, enough to where her breath hitched as he ran the twin vibrating wands down her stomach.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” he mused.

“I know,” she breathed as he pressed the wand to her clit through her knickers. She keened, and he smirked.

“Then, what are you thinking?” he asked, leaning in to hover his breath over the wet silk. She whimpered, urging him to keep going. He pulled aside her knickers with two fingers and replaced the wand with his teeth.

“Just what a lucky girl am I,” she gasped as he slid the wand into her at the same time his tongue started to swirl ancient languages over her clit. Then she couldn’t think at all.

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