*Comment Porn Battle Post* AMTDI/SUV Sex/Solo Sex

[51stcenturyfox]

Hey, it's party time!  Everybody's welcome to kick in some porn!

Yes, three themes this weekend:  Aliens Made Them Do it, Sex in the Torchwood SUV and Solo Sexing!


You can combine or choose one.

1. This should relate to TW or Doctor Who in some way. Crossovers are fine! The SUV counts as a character.
2. It should fit in the comment box. (That's about 500 words, max.) Please put the fandom and pairing in the subject line.
Example: Torchwood  Jack/Tosh 
3. If you wish to write something longer, just add a summary or snippet and link to your LJ, or reply to your first comment with extra porn.
4. WIP snippets are fine, but the story shouldn't be published earlier - the Battles are for new sexy things. :)  
5. Anon commenting is turned on with screening, in case you prefer to be anonymous.
6. Any ship-war sniping/negativity will be deleted.

Give posters a chance to edit, etc. before replying to a porn post, please.  You know how that ruddy preview thing works (badly).

Any issues/queries-  just message Andreth or Foxy.  Chat/Discussion thread here. Soundtrack by andreth47  (click pop-out player to keep the stream up in a new window).

 

Comments

1/3

[(Anonymous)]

It started as solo sexing, but then just wouldn't stop!

-----

They could almost be related, Jack thinks—dark heads almost of a level when they're both kneeling at his feet, upturned faces and wide, rapt eyes. Brother and sister, yes, the thought of it sends another stab of lust up through Jack's body and down as well, making his toes curl. He squeezes his cock gently, tightening the muscles of his thighs and relaxing them again, drawing his knees up and letting his legs fall a little further apart, to free a tent of empty space below the sheet to give himself more room.

They wouldn't be able to take their eyes off his cock, once Jack brought it to their attention, held it right there, close enough for the breath puffing out of their open mouths to caress it. He'd pull his foreskin back, gently, revealing the swollen red head to them (exposed to the cool air now he wants to touch it, but waits); shiny and wet, he'd rub it against Gwen's helpfully pouting lips, slicking them with his precome (he strokes his thumb over the head of his cock—softly, softly—trying to replicate the yielding tenderness of her mouth but revelling in the wet that clings to his skin all the same).

One hand curled around his cock, one hand at the back of Ianto's neck; Jack would guide Ianto forward but Ianto would need little encouragement, eyes half-lidded and colour high in his cheeks, he'd lean forward to kiss the precome from Gwen's lips. A filthy kiss, more tongue outside their mouths than in, open and on display for him and their faces tilted just so he could slide his cock into it. (Jack curls two of his fingers and his thumb around the base of his cock, pressing the heel of his hand firmly against his pubic bone then pushing forward against it anyway, imagining--)

Brother and sister, maybe even twins with their red mouths striving for each other around his cock, wetting the tight, hot skin of it, tongues lapping against it or darting over and under it, seeking each other out. Ianto reaching up to hold Jack's cock instead, his grasp tight like he's doing it more to anchor himself than please Jack, though that thought is pleasing in itself. It would free Jack's hands to cradle both their heads, lightly, enough to hold them in place but be able to feel them move as well. (Jack reaches down to cup his balls in his free hand, squeeze and roll them between his fingers and try not to thrust as if his cock's not just waving in the air; then he gentles the touch to faint strokes; Gwen's fingers would be cooler, more delicate than his.)

Gwen would make noise, Jack's sure of it, probably involuntary little verbalisations of pleasure interspersing the deliciously wet sounds of their mouths savouring Jack's cock. Ianto would be huffing hard out through his nose, striving for oxygen to feed his lust-addled brain and not willing to free his mouth to do so. Gwen's noise would turn to a whimper, then, because Ianto would be touching her as well—always a multitasker to a ridiculous degree (Jack's arse clenches distractingly around nothing)--hand on Gwen's breast, thumb pressing her nipple in, rubbing a generous pinch of flesh between thumb and knuckle.

Gwen's tits, yes, gloriously bare or maybe not quite—maybe, maybe pushed up and spilling over the bronzed leather brassiere that does little else but strap around the bottom of her breasts and force them up, overflowing into Ianto's hands. And Gwen, tilting her head back, mouth red and shiny and open, free of Jack's cock when she moans, leaving it free for Ianto's hand to tighten, stroke up and down (Jack rocks his hips up into his sliding grip), and Gwen rising up, pushing her chest out and cupping her own breast, tugging it forward and presenting it for Ianto to rub the tip of Jack's cock against the hard nipple--

Jack can't help but moan aloud himself, feeling the pulse of precome and pressing his thumb against the dripping slit of his cock. He rubs back and forth and the sensations suddenly ratchet up in intensity to the extent that he's drawn right out of the fantasy, just a mindless animal for a moment as he pistons his hips up helplessly, bed creaking beneath him.


[continued]