Braces and Miniskirts

Wandering around the TARDIS, one could never be quite sure what would be found. Amy had seen mini-rainforests, giant swimming pools, dressing rooms, and on one memorable occasion, a giant squid having tea. The Doctor had given her more-or-less free reign (“Don’t touch anything that whirrs, buzzes, smokes, or does anything else that looks worrisome” being his main instruction), and she utilized it to the fullest extent. After all, it wasn’t often that someone was granted access to explore a box that was bigger on the inside.

Amy had seen many surprising things while she was on the TARDIS, but when she turned a corner to go into one of her rooms (the Doctor had given her a whole suite, which was quite nice, although the TARDIS had a habit of changing the wallpaper when it got bored, which was fairly often) and found the Doctor standing in front of her open wardrobe, admiring himself in the full length mirror. He was wearing one of her miniskirts, and a big, floppy yellow and black striped shirt. He was even wearing a pair of her tights, and she didn’t want to think about how stretched out they would be.

“Doctor… what are you doing?” Amy put her hands on her hips, looking him up and down.

“Hello, Pond!” The Doctor smiled cheerfully at her. “I thought I’d try something new. I like new.”

“And… new involved my clothes?” Amy swallowed. The skirt accentuated his long legs, which looked very good with her aqua tights. Although the aqua rather clashed with the yellow and black. A quick glance at his feet showed that at least he hadn’t tried to squeeze his boat sized feet into her trainers or her cowboy boots. That would have been Bad, because they would rip, and she would be forced to yell at him, or possibly hit him.

“Yep!” He turned around to look at his back, examining himself over his shoulder in the mirror. “I think I look quite fetching, don’t you?”

“Doctor… you’re wearing my clothes.” Amy bit her lip, imagining ducking under the skirt, pulling the tights down, and taking his cock into her mouth, sucking him until he went cross eyed. Ooh… was he wearing knickers under that getup? She swallowed thickly, and she noticed his nose twitch. Well… his superior Time Lord nose could pick up anything, right? He probably knew that smell already, as often as he turned her on.

“Indeed I am. Does that bother you?” The Doctor made his concerned face and bent down, picking up his own pile of clothes. He held the bundle out to her, smiling happily.

“What’s this for?” Amy unthinkingly took the bundle. It smelled like the Doctor - masculine and slightly alien. It was a smell that always made her tingle the tiniest bit.

“Well, it’s only fair. If I’m going to wear your clothes, you should wear mine.” The Doctor gave her his best kicked puppy expression, and Amy always had trouble resisting it. That, and the idea of wearing his clothing was pretty alluring….

“Fine,” Amy said. “But you have to turn around.”

“Why? Oh, you twenty first century humans and your nudity taboos.” The Doctor turned around, theatrically putting his hands over his eyes. “It isn’t like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Amy undressed quickly, ignoring the Doctor‘s last comment. She had been wearing a fairly boring outfit - jeans and a top - and it was easy to shuck off. She had to blush as she saw the extent of the clothing the Doctor had given her - she saw a white undershirt and what were probably a pair of plaid boxers. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? She kicked her knickers off and slid the boxes on over her hips, and oh but they felt nice, all roomy and soft. The trousers came on next, then the undershirt. It took a bit of deliberation, but she decided to be daring and go without her bra. The stiff fabric of his shirt sent tingles through her whole body, pressed against her breasts and brushing against her nipples. She had no trouble until she reached the bracers - she hadn’t worn anything like bracers since she was very small. It took a bit of maneuvering to clip the braces onto the back of her pants, and more maneuvering to get them on without twisting too much, but in the end, they were on. The jacket felt a bit odd - tight at the chest and shoulders, but way too long on the sleeves. The bowtie she ignored completely- she would look stupid with a bowtie.

The Doctor smiled widely at her when she turned around, then frowned. “Where’s the bowtie?”

“I’m not wearing a bowtie.” Amy crossed her arms, looking the Doctor up and down. She fancied she could see a slight bulge, but in that skirt, half the time she looked like she had one herself.

“You have to wear the bowtie.” The Doctor attempted to take a long step, but was hindered by the short skirt. He made an annoyed face and took smaller steps.

“Why do I have to wear the bowtie?” The Doctor was very close now, and it felt slightly odd to be looking up at him while he was in her clothes. The skirt was much shorter on him, that was for sure. It didn’t help that he had such ridiculously long legs. In her aqua tights. “Y’know, that color doesn’t really go with the rest of the outfit.”

“I don’t care. I like this shade of blue.” The Doctor took the untied bowtie out of her unresisting hands and leaned down to tie it around her neck. He pushed her hair off of her shoulders and down her back, his big hands sending tingles down her back. “And if I’m going to wear your knickers, you’re going to wear my bowtie.”

“Why are you wearing my knickers?” Amy looked up at the Doctor, swallowing thickly. He looked very pretty, dressed up as he was.

“I wanted the full experience.” The Doctor kept tying the bowtie, his fingers deft and sure. “Although I can’t imagine how you can run with a string up your arse.”

“I don’t wear thongs,” Amy said. The Doctor had finished tying the bowtie, but he still had his hands on her shoulders, the tips of his fingers resting on the sides of her throat.

“I found it in your wardrobe,” the Doctor said, not moving his hands.

“The TARDIS keeps leaving them there. I think it may be trying to tell me something.” She stared up into his eyes. He stared down into hers.

“Well, I think you’d look quite nice in one,” the Doctor said, and bent down to mouth at her neck, right over the collar of her shirt. “Your arse is even nicer than Helen of Troy’s.” He leaned down further, to take a handful of it, and pressed his face into the side of her neck, his chin digging into the starched collar of the shirt.

“How… do you know what her arse looks like?” Amy hissed, her arms going up to wrap around his neck, her hands resting on the back of his neck. Yes, that was definitely a solid bulge poking her, not a bump in the fabric. “Didn’t they all wear those loose toga things?”

“Well, yes. I got her out of it.” The Doctor let go of her, then slid his hands down the backs of her trousers, the backs of her boxers. “You do look wonderful this way. Do I look that good? No wonder you’re always trailing after me with a hopeful expression.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “What’s gotten into you? You’re usually not like this unless you’ve beaten some kind of big slimy space monster.” She tilted her head to the side to let him nibble at her neck some more, enjoying the shivers it sent up and down her back.

The Doctor ground his hips against Amy‘s. “I’m pretending to be you,” he said, as if that was the most logical thing in the world.

“Why? And I don’t act like that!” Amy was indignant, although her protests sounded a bit weak as the Doctor grabbed the waistband of her boxers and pulled them up, hard enough that the seam bit right into her clit, making her gasp and go weak kneed.

“Because I like to experience new things,” the Doctor said, as if that explained everything. He let go of the waistband of Amy’s boxers and slid his hand down into them, cupping her where she was wettest.

Amy squirmed against him, moving to clutch at the sleeves of the stripy top. “You’ve never c-c-crossdressed?” Her voice cracked as his knuckle found her clit. She arched against him, feeling the shudders.

“I’ve crossdressed, yes, but never in this body. Different bodies like different things.” The Doctor cupped her breast through the top. “Seems almost a pity to get you out of all of this, after all of the effort that was put into getting you into it.” He pulled his hand out of her trousers, much to Amy’s annoyance, and sniffed it, closing his eyes and inhaling, wearing an expression like someone tasting their favorite food.

Amy pouted at him, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she let go of his neck and reached between them, squeezing his erection. She was rewarded with his breath hitching, his hips twitching forward. “You know, I’m amazed you can feel anything through all of the layers,” she said nonchalantly, running her fingers along his length, marveling at the size.

“I’m s-sensitive.” The Doctor arched into her hand, breathing heavily.

“It really has been a while,” Amy teased, slowly starting to roll the skirt up. The sight of his erection trapped in the tights and knickers, leaving a wet spot. The knickers barely covered his cock, the tip poking out of the edge, and he shivered as her fingernail teasingly ghosted over the tip

The Doctor smirked at her, unbuttoning and unzipping the trousers but keeping the braces on. “You’re r-right,” he said, his speech stuttering the tiniest bit as his hips jerked against her hand. “It has been a long time.” He slid his hand into the slot in front of the boxers, stroking the wet, curly hair, then finding her clit with the tip of his finger. “So what’s your excuse?”

“P-pardon?” Amy retaliated by pulling her hand away and pushing the skirt further up, the tights further down. She took him in hand through the lacy black fabric and pumped her fist, pressing down on the head of his cock with her thumb. Her knees went week when he retaliated by thumbing her clit.

“Your excuse.” He slid a finger into her, starting to thrust carefully as he thumbed her clit.

“For what?” Amy’s voice broke as he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot. She began to pump faster, squeezing now and again, feeling his pre-cum spread along the shaft, soaking the lacy knickers and making the pumping action that easier.

“Being so… excitable.” The Doctor twisted his fingers, and Amy spasmed against him, squeezing down. Her pumping became more frenzied, and it seemed to be turning into a sort of race, because now he was fingering her just as hard. She could feel him start to swell, start to twitch, and she smiled, but her smile turned into a whimper as his long, skillful finger curved, pressing right on her g-spot.

The Doctor caught Amy as she sagged forward, her orgasm jittering through her. He wrapped his own hand around her fingers and squeezed them, pumping his hips even as he clutched her to his chest. He held her a little too tightly as his own orgasm washed over him, and Amy made an annoyed noise as she felt the wetness against her belly.

“You got that all over my skirt, didn’t you?” She was mumbling into his chest.

“Why are you complaining, Pond?” He took his hand out of her trousers and tilted her chin up with it, getting her own fluids on her skin. “I made you cum, didn’t I?”

“Well….” She smiled somewhat shakily. “I guess I should be proud I made you cream your trousers, hm?” She yelped when the Doctor reached roughly between her legs and pressed the wet fabric of the trousers up against her still-wet (and oversensitive) cunt.

“I’d say you’re the one who creamed my trousers,” the Doctor said, stroking a line along the inseam and seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was still wearing a hiked up miniskirt and one of Amy’s big floppy shirts (to say nothing of the lacy black thong or aqua tights), but there was still a slightly lascivious glint to his eye, and Amy had a feeling that this wasn’t the end. “Now what say you we find a bed and get these clothes properly dirty, hm?”

Amy shivered. “Dirtier then ever before?” She’d seen this suit covered in mud, dust, blood, and whale sick.

The Doctor’s grin was pure mischief. “Dirtier than ever.”