"I don't want to stop touching you," he mutters, continuing to rub circles, firmer now. His other arm, pinned between her and the bed, folds in tighter around her chest. "Guide me in."
She clicks her tongue as if she isn't. Jill reaches down to move her panties lower, then reaches behind her thigh to stroke him. She takes a moment to simply touch him, too.
He chuffs quietly into her hair, and the touch of her fingers sends a little shiver through him; her hand is cool, the press of her body against him invigorating. He tilts his hips against her, pressing into her hand, blindly towards her.
"If only we could," she says, amused, and gives them both what they want by guiding him inside her. He slips in easily, and she groans. He's made for her.
He presses forward as soon as his cockhead brushes her entrance, and he presses slow and deep, his finger pads still against her clit. He gives a long and none-too-quiet moan, barely having the sense to turn his head into the pillow to muffle it.
How wonderful his sounds are, and that he still moans like it's the first time he's felt her. Jill moans too, albeit much more quietly, wishing to hear him.
He turns his head back to breathe heavily into her hair instead, barely dragging out of her at all before pressing right back in. She feels incredible.
"I could," he admits. He's still tired. "But I want you to come..."
He closes his eyes, letting the feel of her subsume him entirely. The slickness of her all around him, the slide of her flesh under the pad of his finger. The sound of wet skin on skin.
"I'd have you satisfied ten times a day if we had the time."
"Five has left me with weak legs for the day," she teases, though there's some truth to that. Experience. She reaches back to touch his face. "Very dangerous with all these stairs."
"I hope so," he says. Despair doesn't feel too far behind him, but it's easy to forget, wrapped around her as he is. He leans into her harder, his weight against her back. "And so it should remain."
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"I want to be..."
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It wouldn't be the worst way to cuddle.
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She clicks her tongue as if she isn't. Jill reaches down to move her panties lower, then reaches behind her thigh to stroke him. She takes a moment to simply touch him, too.
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“Jill…”
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With how drunk he was she doubts they would have managed. Good things come to those who wait, apparently.
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“Every night,” he mumbles. “I would be inside you all the time… you feel like paradise…”
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"We could sleep like this," she murmurs.
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"I could," he admits. He's still tired. "But I want you to come..."
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"I wish I could know the number of times you've made me come this past year," she muses. "Hundreds, do you think?"
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"I'd have you satisfied ten times a day if we had the time."
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“I could not bear to dream of touching you less than that on our best days…”
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"I think you should get on your back," she murmurs, finding some of his hair and giving a gentle tug. "Let me look at you."
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