"No need," he says. Even if he ends up in there, he's going to hate it regardless of the temperature. He shifts with her, not quite touching her, just in case the rules have started already, right to his knees.
She feels more exposed, standing by her lonesome before sitting back down. And even then, she can see much more than before--and Clive's body isn't blocking her. Still, she returns her focus to him.
"Will here suit you? I suppose you'll have to tell me where exactly you want me."
"Here's fine, unless you'd rather find a room," he says, sitting back on his heels. Multiple people are glancing their way –– he can feel it on his skin.
Jill swallows before daring to lift her eyes from Clive. People are looking, but only when not preoccupied with their partner. Or partners, in some cases. She looks back to Clive.
"If you'd be more comfortable in a room, we'll find a room," she says. "Everyone nearby will hear how good you are to me."
She makes a mental note to not sound like that girl from the porno.
Following his gaze, she opens her legs wider for him before reaching down to spread her lips for him. Despite her nerves, she's been wet for him since the locker room, anticipation slowly reaching frustrating levels.
He's desperate to smother himself in her, but he still needs a moment to look, to admire the flush of her skin and the swollen, wet pink of her cunt, knowing exactly what it tastes like and that he's about to have more. He breathes in deeply, putting his hands on his thighs, safely out of reach of touching her. She's so fucking beautiful.
He presses his face to her, nosing his way against her and starting to lap at her, slow and savouring.
Carefully, she hooks a leg over his shoulder. Easier for them both. She slides her fingers through his hair, biting back a moan as she risks a glance over Clive's head between her legs--less eyes on her than she feared, but the ones that land on them are appraising. It stirs a little spark in her gut.
"You'd think you'd never had me before," she tells him. He always gives his best.
The rest of the world mutes, even though he never quite forgets that there's eyes on them –– he doesn't want them to. He wants them to see him treating her well, being a worthy lover. He wants them to see how pleased she is.
He doesn't have an answer for her beyond a soft groan against her, something satisfied, or approaching it. A quickening of his pace, hungry.
Clive isn’t sure he could suck at her clit harder, his tongue a steady pressure as he does. His fingers curl against his thighs and on second thought move to hold the edge of the bench, backs of his fingers inches from the underside of her thighs. He will follow orders.
And then she speaks. Founder, are they? Do they wish they were in her place, in his? They don’t get to be. Clive makes a sound approaching a whimper, knuckles white as he grips the bench.
Jill keeps her focus on the contrast between her pale fingers and his dark hair, gripping as gently as she can, and resisting the desire to just smother him between her thighs. When she moans his name, it's loud enough for those closest to hear.
She spares a hand from his hair to cover his hand, holding. Terrible rule, the no touching. She finds herself aching for his hands on her, and the little groan of desperation might be an indication of such.
He knows she wants more. He’s not sure how much he can give her, eating her enthusiastically as he is, without reaching up inside her and fucking her with his fingers, stroking her from the inside. Just the thought makes him want to, and when she reaches for his hand, he thinks she might want him to.
“The pool,” he manages, between breaths, “would be worth it.”
He comes up for proper air for a moment, cheek pressed against her thigh, beard wet. He meets her eyes, and then deliberately takes a hand from the bench and puts it on her, dragging his palm over her belly.
An outlaw, truly. Jill watches him with an amused smile and leans down to kiss him, enjoying the taste of herself on his mouth. Enjoying that others are watching, even if only occasionally.
"To the pool with you, for your misbehavior," Jill says solemnly, taking his hand.
Clive rises on his knees a little, his other hand gliding up her thigh and right to her cunt. He cups her with a subtle enthusiasm, two fingers slipping between her wet lips to press against her entrance.
"Who has brought you so close to release, if not me?"
She trails off as he aims to make her lose her mind. Jill gives him a look. He knows what he's doing, moving that slowly when her hips strain for more.
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"It's a deal."
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Not when she begs. Jill presses a kiss to his forehead before moving to step out from between his knees.
"Shall I test the heat of the water for you?"
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"Will here suit you? I suppose you'll have to tell me where exactly you want me."
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"If you'd be more comfortable in a room, we'll find a room," she says. "Everyone nearby will hear how good you are to me."
She makes a mental note to not sound like that girl from the porno.
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Following his gaze, she opens her legs wider for him before reaching down to spread her lips for him. Despite her nerves, she's been wet for him since the locker room, anticipation slowly reaching frustrating levels.
"Do as you please, then. Just no touching."
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He presses his face to her, nosing his way against her and starting to lap at her, slow and savouring.
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"You'd think you'd never had me before," she tells him. He always gives his best.
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He doesn't have an answer for her beyond a soft groan against her, something satisfied, or approaching it. A quickening of his pace, hungry.
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Some part of him must like the thrill.
She thinks some part of her does, too.
"They're watching you," she says, voice low so that only he can hear, breathing shallow. "Probably imagining how good your tongue is."
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And then she speaks. Founder, are they? Do they wish they were in her place, in his? They don’t get to be. Clive makes a sound approaching a whimper, knuckles white as he grips the bench.
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She spares a hand from his hair to cover his hand, holding. Terrible rule, the no touching. She finds herself aching for his hands on her, and the little groan of desperation might be an indication of such.
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“The pool,” he manages, between breaths, “would be worth it.”
To touch her. To make her come on his fingers.
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"You could touch me while in the pool, I'm sure."
And have some privacy while in plain sight.
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"To the pool with you, for your misbehavior," Jill says solemnly, taking his hand.
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"Have I not been good in many other ways?"
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"Other ways?" Doubt. The twitch at the corner of her mouth gives away any attempt to look truly lost in thought. "Please, refresh my memory."
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"Who has brought you so close to release, if not me?"
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"Oh, you meant today alone? Apologies."
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He pushes a fingertip in, just to the first knuckle, slow.
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She trails off as he aims to make her lose her mind. Jill gives him a look. He knows what he's doing, moving that slowly when her hips strain for more.
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"Maybe it wasn't a fine enough dinner."
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