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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."

The intensity is like nothing else, her mouth is warm and wet, and her attention focused. She stops and he just stares at her, a wildness behind his eyes and a white-knuckle grip on the headboard.

“Not until you give permission,” he rasps, but Founder if that isn’t a hard thing to stick to. He shifts a leg, pressing the side of his calf into her, like he could bully her onward. “I promise…”

That leg gets a kiss to its inner thigh, her eyes full of mischief. She's already made it clear she likes him desperate. Like this, she doubts he can think about anything else.

"I think I can assist you," she says, and once more she's abandoning his cock to move up his body.

Except she stops, and very carefully maneuvers so that when she straddles his hips, she's facing away from him. There's a glance over her shoulder before she scoots again, enough that she can easily reach his cock--and now her cunt is right in his face.

"I know you find pleasure in pleasuring me," she says. Why not get the best of both worlds?

She presents herself to him and he’s immediately nosing his way along the seam of her lips, ready to be smothered right there if it means suffocating with her taste on his tongue. He laps at her immediately, eyes rolling up with a groan. Yes, my lady.

Not being able to see him isn't her favorite, but she cherishes knowing (and feeling) how much he enjoys eating her out like a starved man. It spurs her on, lips and tongue tighter, bobs of her head deeper.

Starved and desperate. For her, for release, whatever he can earn. He brings his arms down to put them around her hips, locking her in place with his bound wrists, and barely lets off even when his head spins. Having a task is the only thing that lets him focus enough to not spend himself right then, or buck into her warm mouth.

His moans are just a rumble through his chest.

His hands are bound and she never said anything about not using them as he will. She supposes he's not breaking any rules, and truth be told, the way he holds her to his mouth makes her groan with pleasure.

She fondles his balls as she takes him deeper. He's a good distraction from her own pleasure, but in the best way.

Lightheaded and loving it, Clive keeps at it. She’s tart and slippery, and every rock of her lips around his cock ends up shifting her back against his mouth, and the intensity ramps up as he goes. Stubbornness alone keeps him from just coming in her life, but it’s hard — eventually he has to put his head back just long enough to gasp, begging: “Mercy.”

She hasn't felt so full of pride in a long time. Jill lets his cock fall from her lips with a pop, hips lifting so that he has more room to breathe. Poor man.

"Too much?" She asks with a chuckle, lazily stroking him with her hand.

“Only if you expect me to last,” he says, amused, and he breathes deeply in her as he catches his breath. Never was a good swimmer, but this is worth improving for. He closes his eyes briefly, peaceful despite his heart rate. He murmurs: “I love your ass.”

"I don't care about you lasting. I care about leaving you trembling in my bed," and maybe she would sound more seductive if she didn't immediately laugh. He loves her ass? He sounds nearly drunk to her ears.

"You're ridiculous, Clive."

She loves him most when he's like this.

He scoffs, light-hearted, and he briefly squeezes her with his locked-in embrace.

“I don’t say it enough,” he replies. “If it makes me ridiculous to say so, then so be it…”

His toes curl briefly and he tilts his hips up into her grip.

He wants more. She blesses him with a long lick before speaking again.

"Is that where you wish to finish? Name your desire."

Someone doubts he will last very long as it is.

A groan slips out of him, and he nearly stifles himself against her cunt.

“I want to be inside you.”

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