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fredbassettTitle : Taking Matters Into Her Own Hands
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Sarah Page
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : 3.03
Summary : Sarah relaxes after a bad day
A/N : Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mmom, so that means wank fic!
Even by the standards of someone used to working with schoolchildren, Sarah Page had had a bad day.
She’d seen her new place of work reduced to a pile of smoking rubble and her new team leader carted off to hospital in an ambulance, having been shot by his wife, or was that ex-wife? And anyway, why the hell hadn’t the bloody woman used a solicitor, like normal people, rather than a firearm?
Sarah was beginning to wonder, and not for the first time, what the hell she’d got herself into. She could handle the occasional deity rampaging round central London, but murderous spouses and her army of tame clones had been a bit more than she’d bargained for when signing the Official Secrets Act.
Her nerves were strung tight and jangling like her neighbours bloody wind-chimes. She sipped at a glass of red wine, holding it with her left hand, while her right hand wormed its way down past the waistband of her trousers and between her legs. She knew what she needed to do to drive away the stresses of the day. She just wished she was getting it from something slightly more interactive than her own right hand.
Images of Poser Boy slipped slyly into her mind as her fingers dipped between her legs and gathered the wetness already forming there. The new captain was pretty enough, but he lacked the hard edge that clung to Captain Ryan like a second skin. Shame Ryan was so obviously shagging Stephen Hart. Mind you, she wouldn’t object to catching the two of them at it, given half a chance. That would be a nice image to take to a lonely bed.
Her fingers circled her clit, sending little spikes of pleasure up into her belly.
She was pretty sure that Becker was straight, unlike Ryan and a couple of his men. According to the rumour-mill in the ARC, which seemed to work overtime on even the slightest crumb of information, even Lester was gay, and she’d also seen the longing looks that Connor Temple cast in Nick Cutter’s direction. No prizes for guessing what went on between those two behind closed doors. It was no wonder that Jenny Lewis had warned her off most of the men on the project.
Thoughts of Jenny elbowed the image of Becker out of her mind, and her fingertips ghosted slowly in ever-decreasing circles round her own flesh. She dwelt on the image of glossy chestnut hair, red lips and a figure that wouldn’t be out of place on a magazine cover. The woman was clearly carrying a torch for Cutter, but there was something more there, something unfathomable that she couldn’t quite grasp. And for once, the rumours had been strangely silent.
Pleasure was starting to built up, and she stroked herself a little harder, knowing exactly where to rub for maximum effect. That was one advantage to only having yourself to please. No need to worry about anyone else’s pleasure or ego. No need to guide or make appreciative noises, just to remind whoever it was touching you that you hadn’t come yet, and yes, you’d like a bit more attention where it mattered before the Main Event, thank you very much.
It felt good, and she could feel the stresses of the day start to slip away, as she slipped two fingers inside herself and clenched her muscles around them. With the palm of her hand still rubbing at the hard nub of flesh, Sarah fucked herself with both fingers, her breathing staring to quicken as the pleasure mounted. She held back for a moment, to draw things out, then she took a deep breath and started to stroke herself again, letting the air gradually slide out of her lungs as the feeling between her legs intensified.
It felt so bloody good. She put the wine glass down, not wanting to ruin a second blouse in one day, and ran her free hand over her breasts, feeling her nipples harden under the silky fabric of her blouse. She pinched at her own flesh, rolling her nipples between finger and thumb and feeling the sensations start to peak between her legs.
With a gasp and a shiver, Sarah came, panting.
And it had been Jenny Lewis’ hands she’d imagined on her body in that last moment, not those of any of the equally attractive men.
Maybe this job wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Sarah Page
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : 3.03
Summary : Sarah relaxes after a bad day
A/N : Written for
mmom, so that means wank fic!Even by the standards of someone used to working with schoolchildren, Sarah Page had had a bad day.
She’d seen her new place of work reduced to a pile of smoking rubble and her new team leader carted off to hospital in an ambulance, having been shot by his wife, or was that ex-wife? And anyway, why the hell hadn’t the bloody woman used a solicitor, like normal people, rather than a firearm?
Sarah was beginning to wonder, and not for the first time, what the hell she’d got herself into. She could handle the occasional deity rampaging round central London, but murderous spouses and her army of tame clones had been a bit more than she’d bargained for when signing the Official Secrets Act.
Her nerves were strung tight and jangling like her neighbours bloody wind-chimes. She sipped at a glass of red wine, holding it with her left hand, while her right hand wormed its way down past the waistband of her trousers and between her legs. She knew what she needed to do to drive away the stresses of the day. She just wished she was getting it from something slightly more interactive than her own right hand.
Images of Poser Boy slipped slyly into her mind as her fingers dipped between her legs and gathered the wetness already forming there. The new captain was pretty enough, but he lacked the hard edge that clung to Captain Ryan like a second skin. Shame Ryan was so obviously shagging Stephen Hart. Mind you, she wouldn’t object to catching the two of them at it, given half a chance. That would be a nice image to take to a lonely bed.
Her fingers circled her clit, sending little spikes of pleasure up into her belly.
She was pretty sure that Becker was straight, unlike Ryan and a couple of his men. According to the rumour-mill in the ARC, which seemed to work overtime on even the slightest crumb of information, even Lester was gay, and she’d also seen the longing looks that Connor Temple cast in Nick Cutter’s direction. No prizes for guessing what went on between those two behind closed doors. It was no wonder that Jenny Lewis had warned her off most of the men on the project.
Thoughts of Jenny elbowed the image of Becker out of her mind, and her fingertips ghosted slowly in ever-decreasing circles round her own flesh. She dwelt on the image of glossy chestnut hair, red lips and a figure that wouldn’t be out of place on a magazine cover. The woman was clearly carrying a torch for Cutter, but there was something more there, something unfathomable that she couldn’t quite grasp. And for once, the rumours had been strangely silent.
Pleasure was starting to built up, and she stroked herself a little harder, knowing exactly where to rub for maximum effect. That was one advantage to only having yourself to please. No need to worry about anyone else’s pleasure or ego. No need to guide or make appreciative noises, just to remind whoever it was touching you that you hadn’t come yet, and yes, you’d like a bit more attention where it mattered before the Main Event, thank you very much.
It felt good, and she could feel the stresses of the day start to slip away, as she slipped two fingers inside herself and clenched her muscles around them. With the palm of her hand still rubbing at the hard nub of flesh, Sarah fucked herself with both fingers, her breathing staring to quicken as the pleasure mounted. She held back for a moment, to draw things out, then she took a deep breath and started to stroke herself again, letting the air gradually slide out of her lungs as the feeling between her legs intensified.
It felt so bloody good. She put the wine glass down, not wanting to ruin a second blouse in one day, and ran her free hand over her breasts, feeling her nipples harden under the silky fabric of her blouse. She pinched at her own flesh, rolling her nipples between finger and thumb and feeling the sensations start to peak between her legs.
With a gasp and a shiver, Sarah came, panting.
And it had been Jenny Lewis’ hands she’d imagined on her body in that last moment, not those of any of the equally attractive men.
Maybe this job wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
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Date: 2009-05-01 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-02 02:13 pm (UTC)