She makes sure he can see how slowly she's sliding her fingers into herself. Maybe if she takes enough time she can convince his hands to travel down her body.
"Perhaps. But I still liked it. I liked watching you."
"Did you really," he murmurs. His hands don't stray, but he'll throw her a bone, stroke her ego: "Sometimes I get hard just for the attention you pay me."
"We'll have to start taking our outings again," he says, gaze fixated on her fingers pumping in and out. "And find ourselves plenty of opportunities to enjoy each other."
She watches him watching her, and spreads her legs wider for a better view for him. Very considerate--or she just wants him to suffer with his cock pressed against her back.
"We do. We should go to the woods, too. Before it's too cold."
"And now you have no patience for anything but more of me." He moves up, gently raking his teeth over her earlobe. "Once you come, I'll make your second so powerful your legs will shake."
Her husband. Fuck. The shiver that goes down his spine matches the twitch of his cock and the little pinch of his brow as he breathes out against her neck.
“I love you,” he murmurs in her ear. “I want to have you every way I can.”
She moans softly, more at his words than his touch. She wants him, desperately. She usually does. A good traits for a wife, she thinks.
Jill fingers herself, slow and steady until thoughts of him pressing her to the mattress of their bed helps fuel the throb between her thighs. The more she continues, the more the flush spreads over her cheeks and chest.
"Let me come around your fingers," she pleads. "At least give me that."
Founder, if that isn't tempting, especially feeling her rock against him as she fucks herself. One hand slips off her breast and towards her ribs, and he holds her against him like he could take her into him right through his skin. He breathes against her neck.
"No," he growls. "You have to come like this. Then you'll get your honours."
Strange for him to be so stern. She enjoys it, the gravel in his voice, the strong hold of his arm.
Jill huffs. She'd beg, but she's so close. Might as well finish and have what she truly desires: him.
She leans heavily into him as she chases her orgasm, the building pressure, until it peaks with a small gasp. She opens her eyes to look at him through the mirror as she presses her fingers deeper. Poor Jill, not having him inside her when she comes. A tragedy she trusts him to rectify soon.
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"Perhaps. But I still liked it. I liked watching you."
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"We do. We should go to the woods, too. Before it's too cold."
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"You don't understand how you've ruined my own touch for me," she then laughs. "I have to pretend it's you, and even then..."
Maybe if she's very pathetic he'll take pity on her.
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"I worry I cannot," she says sadly. It's not a lie. Just a concern.
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"Do you want to try?"
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"I see," he says, "this is a game to you."
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"Oh, no," she says, still lazily rubbing her clit, "I'm taking this very seriously. You've put me to task."
A pause.
"It's only my fingers are so small."
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He pinches her again, and then starts sucking on her neck.
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"I've been spoiled by a man that has both," she says, relentless. "It's such a burden."
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Maybe. He'll try.
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Jill sighs, relenting.
"I will try my best."
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That she falls quiet after is the proof that she's focusing on the wetness between her legs, eyes on his face in the mirror.
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“I love you,” he murmurs in her ear. “I want to have you every way I can.”
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"You never disappoint, Clive."
That feels more important to say in the moment.
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"My wife," he just murmurs, eyes on her snatch.
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Jill fingers herself, slow and steady until thoughts of him pressing her to the mattress of their bed helps fuel the throb between her thighs. The more she continues, the more the flush spreads over her cheeks and chest.
"Let me come around your fingers," she pleads. "At least give me that."
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"No," he growls. "You have to come like this. Then you'll get your honours."
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Jill huffs. She'd beg, but she's so close. Might as well finish and have what she truly desires: him.
She leans heavily into him as she chases her orgasm, the building pressure, until it peaks with a small gasp. She opens her eyes to look at him through the mirror as she presses her fingers deeper. Poor Jill, not having him inside her when she comes. A tragedy she trusts him to rectify soon.
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