The Ultimate Ginger

“So you really are a natural redhead,” the Doctor said, looking down at Amy’s legs. Amy was sitting in the library, her feet propped up on one of the little end tables scattered about.

Amy looked down at her legs and blushed. It had been a quiet few days, and she was enjoying a nice, quiet time, sitting in the library and reading any book she could get her hands on. She had a feeling the TARDIS was making things a bit easier for her - one in four books was in English, and she knew that the Doctor spoke many other languages, the majority of them not Earth based. So, over the course of the last few days, she had been taking a well deserved rest, and sitting around in her pajamas, reading whatever she wanted to read. The pile on the table next to her grew, and the TARDIS was kind enough to provide a store cupboard full of food, a bathroom, and a drinks fountain, complete with a huge selection of different kinds of fruit juice, not all of them from terrestrial fruits. This was the first time she’d seen the Doctor in those few days - he’d been off doing whatever it was he did on his own time. She didn’t mind. Now and again, it was nice to have a little alone time. However, since she was having such a lazy time of things, she had barely done more then shower when she started to smell and put on clean pajamas, before hurrying back to her books.

“Of course I’m a natural redhead,” Amy said, somewhat irritated. It was a comment she dealt with a lot. As if her eyebrows didn’t give it away. “You thought I wasn’t?”

“Oh, I never thought you weren’t, but now I’ve got legitimate proof, and that’s always a good thing.” The Doctor leaned against the empty table Amy’s feet were propped up on, lifting her feet and putting them in his lap. His hands went to her ankles, and his fingertips gently stirred the little red hairs that were growing there.

“Hm?” Amy was acutely aware of the Doctor’s big, warm hands on her ankles, and the feel of his trousers under her bare feet.

“I always like to find my hypothesis proved correct,” the Doctor said. “Although the hair on your legs is a darker shade of red than the hair on your head.”

“Have you been hypothesizing about my leg hair?” Amy crossed her arms under her breasts (and now was a fine time to remember that she wasn’t wearing a bra!) and leaned back, giving him a Look.

“I might have been,” The Doctor said, running his hand higher up her leg and pushing the soft material of her pajama pants up, to reveal her shins, also covered in short, soft, red hair.

“Why?” Amy experimentally curled her toes to tug gently at the fabric of his trousers.

“Because I’m clever, Pond, and I like to think.” He pushed her pajama pants up further, until the hems passed over her knees. He stroked up and down along her legs, seeming to enjoy the feel of the little hairs under his fingers.

“You don’t have anything better to think about?” Amy swallowed, reaching to scratch her back - the way she was sitting meant that her chair was digging into it, and it made her itch, then blushed, remembering that she was wearing a tank top and hadn’t shaved under her arms recently either.

“I like to think about that,” the Doctor said softly, and his voice had gone lower. He let go of one
of her legs to stroke gently under her arm, his fingers stirring the soft, short hairs.

“Why?” Amy asked, biting her lip to keep from giggling. The Doctor’s big, blunt fingers were faintly ticklish.

“Because your hair is the same color as the sky on Gallifrey,” The Doctor’s voice was quiet. “The hair on your head… is the color it was on cloudy days when it was just about to rain.” He leaned forward unexpectedly and pressed his cheek against her shin, no doubt feeling the little hairs prickle against his cheek.

“Oh,” Amy said, and shivered again, because his breath was tickling her leg, bringing up goosebumps. The little hairs grew pricklier as they stood on end. It was rather hard to respond to what the Doctor was saying, hearing someone describe your hair as akin to the sky of their dead world. “Is the… is the hair on my legs like the sky of Gallifrey, too?”

“Oh yes,” the Doctor said, and leaned forward, kissing Amy’s knee, then leaning down to lick from her shin to her knee.

Amy squeaked, curling her toes against the Doctor’s leg. She was aware of just how very exposed she was from this position - her thin pajama pants were pulled up tight, and it was very clear that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. His attention to her legs was beginning to have an effect - she could feel the beginnings of a wet spot. She blushed, but the Doctor was holding on tightly to her leg, and she couldn’t think of a way to tell him to please let go, not when it felt so… nice.

“When the sun was going down on a clear day, the clouds would turn this precise shade of orange.” He kissed the side of her knee gently, his tongue darting out and tasting the prickly hairs.

Amy swallowed thickly, feeling her nipples get tight. The Doctor had a strong nose, and he could probably already smell her arousal. She wasn’t sure if this turned her on more or just embarrassed her. He was pushing her pants further up, kissing up her leg, tasting her goosebumps and the prickled little hairs.

Neither of them said anything for several minutes. The only noise that could be heard was Amy’s deep breathing and the wet noises of the Doctor’s hot, wet kisses. It wasn’t always kisses - once and a while he would lick, and when he reached the top of her knee, he left a sizable hickey. The toes of the foot Amy had up on the chair curled over the edge of the seat, and she blushed harder as she felt herself grow wetter, felt moisture dripping out of her and staining her pajama pants.

When the Doctor reached the hem of Amy’s pants, now hiked up to the inside of her thigh, he kissed her thigh through the fabric and got down on his knees, so that the two of them were eye to eye, more or less. Amy swallowed again, gaping her knees open wider in anticipation. The Doctor was leaning forward, an intent look on his face, and Amy shivered in anticipation.

“But this color is my favorite,” the Doctor said, and gently lifted her arm up, his hand hot on her bare skin. The strap of her tank top was drooping, and it fell down as she lifted the arm as he requested. His fingers went back to the hair under her arm, twirling it around, then taking it between two fingers and rubbing it against his fingertip.

Amy swallowed - having someone petting the hair under her arms shouldn’t have been turning her on the way it was. “Are… are you sure?” She asked, and took a deep breath. She normally wasn’t shy about sexual type things, but this wasn’t exactly standard, and kinky stuff tended to fluster her the tiniest bit.

“Hm?” The Doctor leaned forward, pressing his face into the side of her breast, nuzzling his long nose under her arm. Amy had to giggle a bit; it tickled.

“I’ve… I’ve got other… other hair, that’s a different shade of orange.”

“Really?” The Doctor looked up at her, his nose still pressed into her armpit. His voice vibrated against her skin, through her chest, and that tickled a bit too. “What shade of orange would that be?”

“Well, I haven’t studied colors, so I don’t know the exact shade.” She tried to think. “It’s… darker than the hair on my head?”

“May I see it?” The Doctor pressed a kiss to the side of her breast through the grey fabric of her tank top.

“Well, if you insist,” Amy said, and put her foot down, to better navigate out of her pants. The Doctor had wrapped his arm around her side and was hugging her like a teddy bear, his cheek resting against her side and his wild hair tickling the inside of her upper arm.

Amy slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her pajama pants and lifted her hips, slipping them off of her, letting them puddle around her ankles. She flushed, the color going from her face to her neck to her chest to the tops of her breasts that could be seen peeking out of the low neckline of her tank top. The shirt only covered up to a little over her navel, and the curly dark red hair between her legs was in full view. As was the shiny wetness, dripping from the curls and smeared against her thighs.

“That is quite a fetching shade of orange,” the Doctor said, and he wrapped his arm around her middle again, resting his head on her side. The hand not around her middle went between her legs, petting the hair, getting his fingers all sticky. “Like the sky on a foggy day.”

“H-how is a foggy day different from a cloudy one?” Amy asked, and her voice hitched as the Doctor’s fingertip ran along her slit, collecting moisture and getting the curly hair wetter.

“Clouds reflect the suns more,” the Doctor said absently, pressing another kiss to the side of her breast. “Which makes the sky brighter.” He slid his finger between her lips and stroked the tip of her clit, gently.

Amy hissed and convulsed against shim, her hips jerking. Her hand went to his jacket, and he held on to it, tightly, balling the fabric in her fist. “But… mist is a k-k-kind of cloud.” She didn’t know why she was arguing over this - maybe trying to distract herself enough to keep from acting excessively stupid? His hand between her legs - his hand - felt wonderful, making her shiver as pleasure spread through her body, pulsing outwards under her skin from her clit.

“Different reflection,” the Doctor said, and crooked his finger, sliding it into her. He held her close as she squirmed, her toes curling and her back arching, rocking her hips as his thumb pressed down on her clit. He had his eyes riveted on his hand - the Doctor always did like to watch his own work, apparently.

Amy swallowed thickly, her attention on the Doctor’s gentle, strong finger inside of her, curling to press down on her g-spot. Her leg jerked, narrowly missing his chest, and she cried out.

“There’s that spot. Always good to remember it, always very popular,” the Doctor said, and he pressed down a bit harder, both the finger inside of her and his thumb.

Amy gasped, then giggled. The Doctor was apparently tired of watching his hand, and had pressed his face back under her arm, taking deep breaths. They tickled.

“D-D-Doctor? What’re you d-doing?” She squirmed, rocking her hips up against his hand, feeling her orgasm fast approaching.

“Hm?” He nuzzled the soft, wiry hair under her arm, her hand awkwardly perched on his shoulder. “Trying to give you an orgasm. It might come easier if you would shut up and enjoy it.” He did something twisty with the finger inside of her, making her back arch and her breath come in sharp little pants.

“I m-meant… why is your face in my armpit?” Amy’s voice cracked as the Doctor pressed harder on her clit, and the heat that had been building in her belly broke, sending waves of tingling under her skin, to settle in the tips of her fingers and toes, leaving her slumped against the Doctor, still breathing heavily.

“Pheromones,” the Doctor said, and pressed another kiss to her breast, carefully drawing his finger out of her. He made a satisfied noise at the liquid dribbling down his fingers and along his wrist. He paused, petting the curly hair. “Second best place to find human pheromones.” He pressed his nose into her underarm and took a nice deep sniff, then kissed the soft skin there, tenderly. “And I’ve always had a…. a thing for human female pheromones.”

“Second best?” Amy was trying to think straight, her mind still on the warm tingles throughout her body.

The Doctor moved his head, to smell his wet finger. He closed his eyes and made a noise like a gourmet sampling a particularly good wine. “Oh yes.” He kissed her temple again. “It’s also quite a fetching shade of orange. However….” He shifted, so that he was sitting in front of her. “I intend to taste all shades before deciding which is my favorite.”

Amy blinked at him muzzily, then smiled. “Are you saying you’re going to keep me busy, Doctor?” Her hands went down to his thick mop of hair, tugging it gently.

He pressed a kiss to her thigh, smiling as he moved closer, until the tip of his nose was pressed against damp auburn curls. “Something like that, yeah.” He moved forward, no doubt to begin licking.

Amy closed her eyes - she certainly had no objections . None whatsoever.