noburden | inbox

"Isn't that for me to know and you to find out?" That he wants this so badly spurs her on. Jill smiles a little easier as she steps behind him, and slips her arms around his middle. A sweet little hug, a squeeze of affection, becomes far less innocent as she lets her hands blindly roam his abdomen, cheek pressed to his back.

Her fingers trace down his cum gutters until one hand finds his cock, and she hums as she takes him in hand.

"I have you at my mercy."

His back swells under her cheek as he breathes in, head falling forward as he looks down at the belt wound around his wrists. He has to extend his hands further ahead of him to see beyond them, to see the dainty crux of her thumb and her fingers coiled around his shaft.

“You can do whatever you wish to me,” he murmurs.

"I'd like to focus on your pleasure," she tells him. Her lips press to his spine and she strokes him, fingers lingering at his tip.

"I want you to only think of me."

Don't think of a chocobo, and what comes to mind first? He blinks it off –– her hand is here, her grip strong, and her breath is warm on his back. He relaxes against her embrace, elbows tucking in as he tries and fails to reach for her. He's still bound.

"You're the only one," he says.

Very obedient. Jill feels his urge to reach for her, and that makes this sweeter. He wants to touch her so quickly.

Jill lets go of his cock to pull away, and as she steps back, she can't resist the urge to give his ass a smack. It hardly stings, just enough to make a noise, and she breaks character immediately with a laugh because it's that unlike her. Grabs? Sure. Smacks? A little more crude.

"Sorry," she says, amused. "On the bed with you."

Clive can't help but turn to look at her, curiosity switching to surprise in a snap when she swats him. His smile is baffled.

"Dare I ask where you picked up that," he says, as though she's been going to the sex clubs lining various district streets, but off he goes to the bed. "How do you want me?"

She'll never tell. Jill laughs again, embarrassed.

"On your back. Middle of the bed," she tells him. "Was the slap too much?"

"I liked it," he says, eyes ahead of him, and he gets a knee onto the bed to scoot himself into position.

"Oh."

She swats at his ass again, with one more laugh.

"Quickly, now."

Before she just ends up chasing him around the house trying to smack his bottom.

She doesn't hit hard enough to do more than amuse him, and without the element of surprise, it's even more amusing. He rolls over, using his shoulders to drag himself roughly into the centre of the bed.

"Bossy," he remarks. He likes that, too.

She knows he does. Jill smiles at him before climbing onto the bed beside him, hand smoothing over his stomach.

"You like it when I tell you what to do. To jump, and how high."

It feels foolish to clasp his bound wrists to his chest, so he raises them over his head. More access for her, he reasons.

“And how hard, and how fast, and for how long…”

She likes this pose. Every muscle of his body is laid out before her, and she leans down to press a kiss to his lips. Just softly.

Then she makes a spot for herself between his legs. He can likely guess where this is going.

"You always try your best."

Every breath he draws has his chest expanding, his abdomen taut under the rise of his ribs. He gazes down at her comfortably, shifting his thighs to make space for her. Oh, he guesses.

“Sometimes it’s even enough,” he remarks.

"Sometimes," she agrees. She looks like she's about to go down on him, and that's the plan, but then she pauses.

"Would you like a pillow under your head?" So that he can comfortably watch.

He’ll have to work on that, he decides. Right now, his hard cock so close to her face, he’ll work on fucking anything.

“Ah,” he says, testing his range of motion. He could ignore any strain. “Do you want me to watch?”

"I do." She wants to watch him watch her. Jill decides it's a good opportunity to tease him, and so she gives the bottom of his cock a slow lick with the flat of her tongue.

And then she's crawling up his body, sliding against him.

She only stops when her clothed breasts are right over his face. It's a good place to pause to reach for a pillow above him. "One pillow should be enough."

A soft gasp pops out of him when her tongue swipes over his skin, and by time she makes her way up to him, he’s prepared to do anything for her. He ducks his head forward. It’s a feat, with his arms where they are, but he lifts himself enough for her to slide the pillow under.

As he does, his spine curves enough to change the angle of his pelvis, and it brushes the head of his cock against the draping silk of her nightdress, leant over him.

She lets her weight sag onto him. It's the only way she can manage both a kiss to his head. That done, she rolls her body against him, humming at the hardness of his cock trapped between them.

“Jill,” he breathes against her neck, tilting his chin up so he can nuzzle the bridge of his nose against the column of her throat. He wonders how wet she still is, how tight she might feel around him for it. He presses his feet against the bed to push up against her.

"What is it, Clive?" She thinks she has an idea, but she likes to hear it. She drops a kiss on the bridge of his nose before she pushes herself down his body, pausing at his neck.

He braces himself under her, rubbing his cock against her lower abdomen as she bears down.

“Take anything you want from me,” he murmurs.

"You are very impatient," she says, warmth in her voice. His neck gets one more kiss before she moves back down his body between his thighs once more. She rewards his impatience with no hesitation on her part, taking the head of his cock into her mouth.

As she pushes her hair back with one hand, she looks up to make sure he's watching.

He is watching. He’s impatient, too; with his wrists only superficially bound, there is nothing stopping him from reaching for her. Only a desire to keep to her orders keeps his hands where they are.

“A bold accusation, considering the circumstances…”

But he’s in her mouth.

He groans, long and low. Tries not to think about where this confidence comes from — but he thinks it’s always been there, and he hasn’t always appreciated it.

Jill is determined to keep her eyes on his as she sucks him off. He likes impulsive. He likes not having to think. She can give him that, she thinks. Her tongue lavishes him, and she enjoys every moment.

Yet she abruptly stops when she feels him reach the point of impossibly hard.

"Not yet," she warns. "Keep in control of yourself, Clive."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject