She certainly won't ever tire of him watching her. She slips out of her skirt before setting it aside. Without hesitation, her bra follows. She supposes the panties stay, given the repeated signs and the little sticker on the crotch of the bikini bottoms.
"This is tiny," she mutters, pulling the bottoms on. The blue material is far smaller than her panties, held in place by ties on either side.
She turns to look at her bum in the mirror. Her entire cheek would be exposed if not for her underwear. Let alone the front!
He's seen her tits time and time again, but under the harsh fitting room light and in such close proximity, he feels like a teenaged boy again, catching a glimpse of something he isn't supposed to be privy to. Having her stand mostly-bared before him in such a small, hidden space demands patience until he's asked otherwise: he quietly holds his emptied cup between both hands so neither hand is free.
Clive swallows his breath anyway. Somehow, her underwear peeking out from under the bikini bottoms doubles the sensation: it's a stark reminder of what else he could be seeing.
"I like it more than I thought," he says, politely looking away from what he can see of her reflection –– long hair cascading down her back, the taper of her hips to a waist he can engulf with his hands –– and to the front. Just one little tug of his thumb and he could bare her cleft to his eyes. To his... get it together, Rosfield. He draws himself up a little more soberly. "But of course... inappropriate to go about in."
Jill means to test his patience. They may not be together, but she's comfortable wearing little to nothing around him. He knows her body well, as she knows his. She reaches for the bikini top and examines it before figuring out how to get her arms into the straps.
"Can you tie the back for me, Clive?" She asks, pulling her hair out of the way. Already she can tell the little blue triangles cover her nipples and little else. "I only wish to see how it looks."
"Of course," he says, stooping to set the cup down and bringing his face inches from her ass in the process. He stands up again, slowly, unsure if she would see him lingering in the mirror, and
He is, allegedly, good with knots, but the knot of a hunter with a length of rope turns out to be quite different from the delicate little bow of a bikini. He hunches over a little to see what he's doing, fingers moving clumsily over the slippery cord, nose hovering inches from the nape of her neck. He can see every little blemish down her back, every fine silver hair, but he has to look at this stupid blue cord.
He ties it snug in the worst bow known to mankind, knuckles brushing her skin, and when he withdraws he lets his fingertips skim her lower back. He glances at her through the mirror, over her shoulder. Meeting her eyes is tricky when he can see, peripherally, even her modest tits are barely contained.
The almost-touches are maddening. She wishes he'd just put his massive hands on her, claim her mouth for himself, but he's too gentle with her for that. She looks at herself in the mirror, curves and soft swells exposed while so little is left hidden. Jill takes a half step back, as if to see herself better in the mirror, but it just puts her flush against Clive.
She glances up at him and apologizes under her breath while not sounding at all sorry.
"I've seen lingere that covers more," she says. "I don't think I'd be comfortable with Joshua or Dion seeing me in something like this."
Her lower back ends up right against his groin, and he has to put his hands on her hips just to keep her from taking another step and really putting on the pressure. He ducks his head to the side so he can see the full length of her in the mirror. The bikini top tries valiantly to contain the pale underside of her breast, but it can't without her nipple peeking out. Her panties seem enormous under the narrow triangle of the bottoms. His thumbs settle on the ties.
"You can wear it in the bath at home," he says, just barely teasing, mouth settling just above her ear. "Or to our clubs..."
The bath at home? Where only a few walls separate them from Joshua? Absolutely not. To think that the clubs would be more appealing... still, she breathes out a laugh, leaning her shoulders back against him. Her ribs expand, doing nothing to help the position of the bikini top.
"Curious how it feels more revealing to be in this than entirely bare," she murmurs. She likes how they look in the mirror, openly admiring them both.
He nuzzles his cheek against the side of her head, scruff against the drawn-back curve of her bangs. She's much too slim to block his figure behind hers, especially undressed, and he braces himself once more against the wall of the change room so she can lean into his frame.
"It's to tempt me," he murmurs right back, voice low, and he dips his head briefly to press a kiss to the shell of her ear. His cock starts to strain against the taut fly of his jeans, and, undoubtedly, against her. He meets her eyes through the mirror again and he digs his thumbs in and tugs gently so the fabric pulls against her crotch, so he can see just how tight it is against her hidden flesh. "As I'm not supposed to see."
She leans against him and thinks she likes how it looks with the bikini tighter against her body. A shame she couldn't convince him to try anything on himself. Maybe next time, now that he sees what trying swim suits on might entail.
"What if I told you I planned on tempting you since we left the house?" Perhaps more of a hope than a plan. She's been content to hold him through the night, or be held if that's what he's needed, all tame.
"I'd be forced to contend with the idea that you are more conniving than you seem," he says, looking at the swell of her lips against the fabric, and then he can't resist -- he slides a hand along her bare hip and cups her, feeling her through both layers of fabric. He pets her with his fingertips and squeezes, rougher than he should but desperate to feel her. His other hand holds her against his hips.
There's a brief flash of teeth as she grins. Flattering words, from him. She holds onto his arm for some sense of balance and feels momentarily guilty--a thin pair of panties really is no protection against what Clive does to her.
She'll just have to purchase these bikini bottoms. So, there's no harm in pressing her body against his, never close enough for her satisfaction.
"I want a better memory than that book store." Which, in retrospect, isn't a good memory for her at all. One of the last good days when he was struggling. They're in a better place now.
He nods subtly, pressing a kiss to her temple, then back to her earlobe, his teeth just barely grazing them. He works his fingers against her, grinding the fabric against her, exploring the hidden contours of her with pressure alone. He watches the whole time, fixated on the sight of her soft, pale flesh around the tiny strip of fabric.
"They'll hear us," he warns. "We'll never be allowed back."
His other hand slides up to ruck the bikini right off her tits, the string taut against the fullness of her chest even as it fully fails to conceal her from his gaze.
She'd seen an ample amount of mirrors at the club, but she thinks she likes this better. Just them, in a tiny room, the large mirror before them displaying a pretty picture. How handsome he looks with his hands on her.
"They won't hear us if you keep quiet," she teases, voice low. There's a small bench, and Jill hopes it can support the weight of them both. "Sit, and I'll make sure of it."
Time to put that strength to use again once more, and feel her under him as he lifts her just enough to manoeuvre himself to the bench. He sits, settling her weight into his lap firmly, his legs splayed so he can drape hers over his, spreading them open. The bikini's narrow crotch could never hope to contain her lips; without her panties underneath, she'd hardly be hidden at all.
"A difficult task, looking at you like this," he mutters, but he can make silence work.
If she didn't have her panties in she thinks the bikini would cleave her in two. Another reason to not wear this particular set to the beach. Jill is enjoying herself however, at home on his lap and in his arms.
She looks to the mirror, and then to Clive.
"Are you enjoying the view?" Not just the bikini, but the angles the mirror offers his eyes.
"Don't you feel just how much I do?" he says, which is, of course, his cock uncomfortably crammed under the confines of his jeans and the underside of her ass, and he breathes out right by her ear, long and slow, willing himself to not grind her cruelly against himself. He runs one finger along the seam of her lips, his other hand closing around a breast to squeeze firmly.
"Is that what that is?" She laughs. Clive's arousal is difficult for the poor man to hide, though Jill often does him the favor of letting him bring it to her attention.
"Set yourself free. I want you inside me."
They don't have all day--and she thinks she should purchase a mirror for her bedroom. Their bedroom.
The groan he has to suppress very nearly prompts a curse instead, but he keeps quiet, instead shifting her to the side like a doll so he can get a hand on his fly and undo the buttons one-handed. It's a clumsy affair, going fast and balancing her weight on one of his thighs, but he doesn't give a shit: before long he's managed to free himself from the confines and his cock juts proudly free from his fly.
The mirror is as useful as it is erotic, seeing his erection bobbing between her legs as he hefts her up against his belly, yanks her panties aside with his thumb, and stuffs himself into her, hot and fast. He kisses her neck just to shut himself up, but it rapidly turns into a hard suck on her flesh.
What a sight they are, him fully clothed and her barely clothed, bikini clinging to her body while leaving her exposed to him. He moves her so easily and is inside her so quickly, so smoothly, that she has to swallow down a cry of pleasure.
She could watch their reflection and never grow bored.
"I'll carry you home with me," she whispers, and begins to rock against him. Hard, but with an attempt to stay silent. She lifts his hand from below to bring it to her mouth, kissing his palm before wrapping her lips around a finger. That will keep her mouth quiet, at least.
If there is a woman to live for, it's Jill Warrick: the moment his finger is in her mouth, he's gasping in her ear, bracing his shoulders against the side of the change room and digging in his heels so he can bounce her on his cock, passion alone letting him lift her enough to get in a good drive back down. He watches his cock bully its way between her tight, wet lips, and his knees keep her thighs spread wide for him.
"I'll get it so deep in you it'll never come out," he mutters back, dipping his free hands between her legs just to press two fingers to the hood of her clit and drag it back so he can see her.
Jill moans around his finger--too loudly, she realizes through the haze of him fucking her--and pulls another into her mouth. In the mirror, his cock looks almost too big for her, but her body accommodates him with familiar ease. They're made for one another.
Crude as it may look, Jill loves their display. And she loves it because she loves him, and the safety she has with him. Careful not to bump his chin or nose, she leans back, desperate for a kiss or nuzzle.
It's so easy to lose himself in moments like these, the kind of raw, primal sex he can call fucking. Pure id, the kind of feeling he'd chased but never had a real sense of until he'd heard stories and bandied through brothels. The thing he hadn't known the pleasure of until he'd sank himself flush in an asshole, felt the hot constriction of another's insides. Made love for the first time, to a girl he'd longed for since childhood, a girl he might have married at twelve just to get a head start on a lifetime so close they were practically one. Her wanting him is permission to want her, isn't it?
He wants her and he's hurt and when he's hurt he wants her all the more.
He knows he isn't going to last long. It's fine. Time is short. He pulls his fingers from her mouth, clutches her cheek with wet fingers and presses a bruising kiss to her mouth, moaning into it as he comes inside her. For an instant he doesn't see –– it's so much, he has to screw his eyes shut –– but it's all the easier to fuck her with his own come sliding around inside her.
A lifetime of being grabbed and taken and held simply means her trust in his hands is absolute when she allows him to do so. She sighs into him, eyes fluttering shut as he spills into her. His seed is so hot she can feel it spread into her, coating them both.
"Perfect," is all she can say, still making an effort to keep quiet. Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek--for all his flaws he's her perfect match. She could want no other. "Look how perfect you are for me."
Whenever she says that, he wants to start every morning by licking her clean. His heart pounds and he continues to pound up into her, even softening, until he slips right out and can just bob against her thigh. He still works her clit with his fingers, still lost in that animal haze. He kisses her palm.
She wishes they could stay here all day. Every moment is a moment they risk getting caught and thoroughly embarrassed, however. He came, and she's very pleased. There will be time for her later.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"This is tiny," she mutters, pulling the bottoms on. The blue material is far smaller than her panties, held in place by ties on either side.
She turns to look at her bum in the mirror. Her entire cheek would be exposed if not for her underwear. Let alone the front!
"This leaves very little to the imagination..."
no subject
Clive swallows his breath anyway. Somehow, her underwear peeking out from under the bikini bottoms doubles the sensation: it's a stark reminder of what else he could be seeing.
"I like it more than I thought," he says, politely looking away from what he can see of her reflection –– long hair cascading down her back, the taper of her hips to a waist he can engulf with his hands –– and to the front. Just one little tug of his thumb and he could bare her cleft to his eyes. To his... get it together, Rosfield. He draws himself up a little more soberly. "But of course... inappropriate to go about in."
Of course.
no subject
"Can you tie the back for me, Clive?" She asks, pulling her hair out of the way. Already she can tell the little blue triangles cover her nipples and little else. "I only wish to see how it looks."
One strong wave and it's all over, she thinks.
no subject
He is, allegedly, good with knots, but the knot of a hunter with a length of rope turns out to be quite different from the delicate little bow of a bikini. He hunches over a little to see what he's doing, fingers moving clumsily over the slippery cord, nose hovering inches from the nape of her neck. He can see every little blemish down her back, every fine silver hair, but he has to look at this stupid blue cord.
He ties it snug in the worst bow known to mankind, knuckles brushing her skin, and when he withdraws he lets his fingertips skim her lower back. He glances at her through the mirror, over her shoulder. Meeting her eyes is tricky when he can see, peripherally, even her modest tits are barely contained.
"What do you think?"
no subject
She glances up at him and apologizes under her breath while not sounding at all sorry.
"I've seen lingere that covers more," she says. "I don't think I'd be comfortable with Joshua or Dion seeing me in something like this."
Clive? Sure. Men she loves like brothers? No.
no subject
"You can wear it in the bath at home," he says, just barely teasing, mouth settling just above her ear. "Or to our clubs..."
no subject
"Curious how it feels more revealing to be in this than entirely bare," she murmurs. She likes how they look in the mirror, openly admiring them both.
no subject
"It's to tempt me," he murmurs right back, voice low, and he dips his head briefly to press a kiss to the shell of her ear. His cock starts to strain against the taut fly of his jeans, and, undoubtedly, against her. He meets her eyes through the mirror again and he digs his thumbs in and tugs gently so the fabric pulls against her crotch, so he can see just how tight it is against her hidden flesh. "As I'm not supposed to see."
no subject
"What if I told you I planned on tempting you since we left the house?" Perhaps more of a hope than a plan. She's been content to hold him through the night, or be held if that's what he's needed, all tame.
Here there's no threat of waking anyone up.
no subject
no subject
She'll just have to purchase these bikini bottoms. So, there's no harm in pressing her body against his, never close enough for her satisfaction.
"I want a better memory than that book store." Which, in retrospect, isn't a good memory for her at all. One of the last good days when he was struggling. They're in a better place now.
no subject
"They'll hear us," he warns. "We'll never be allowed back."
His other hand slides up to ruck the bikini right off her tits, the string taut against the fullness of her chest even as it fully fails to conceal her from his gaze.
no subject
"They won't hear us if you keep quiet," she teases, voice low. There's a small bench, and Jill hopes it can support the weight of them both. "Sit, and I'll make sure of it."
no subject
"A difficult task, looking at you like this," he mutters, but he can make silence work.
no subject
She looks to the mirror, and then to Clive.
"Are you enjoying the view?" Not just the bikini, but the angles the mirror offers his eyes.
no subject
no subject
"Set yourself free. I want you inside me."
They don't have all day--and she thinks she should purchase a mirror for her bedroom. Their bedroom.
no subject
The mirror is as useful as it is erotic, seeing his erection bobbing between her legs as he hefts her up against his belly, yanks her panties aside with his thumb, and stuffs himself into her, hot and fast. He kisses her neck just to shut himself up, but it rapidly turns into a hard suck on her flesh.
no subject
She could watch their reflection and never grow bored.
"I'll carry you home with me," she whispers, and begins to rock against him. Hard, but with an attempt to stay silent. She lifts his hand from below to bring it to her mouth, kissing his palm before wrapping her lips around a finger. That will keep her mouth quiet, at least.
no subject
"I'll get it so deep in you it'll never come out," he mutters back, dipping his free hands between her legs just to press two fingers to the hood of her clit and drag it back so he can see her.
no subject
Crude as it may look, Jill loves their display. And she loves it because she loves him, and the safety she has with him. Careful not to bump his chin or nose, she leans back, desperate for a kiss or nuzzle.
no subject
He wants her and he's hurt and when he's hurt he wants her all the more.
He knows he isn't going to last long. It's fine. Time is short. He pulls his fingers from her mouth, clutches her cheek with wet fingers and presses a bruising kiss to her mouth, moaning into it as he comes inside her. For an instant he doesn't see –– it's so much, he has to screw his eyes shut –– but it's all the easier to fuck her with his own come sliding around inside her.
"Jill," he pants, into her mouth.
no subject
"Perfect," is all she can say, still making an effort to keep quiet. Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek--for all his flaws he's her perfect match. She could want no other. "Look how perfect you are for me."
no subject
"Whenever it so pleases you," he promises.
no subject
"I love you, 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)
(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)
(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)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)