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“Am I to sleep through you touching yourself, then? Denied the…” Founder, it’s getting harder to string a sentence together with her hands on him like that, with her mouth on his shoulder, the prick of her teeth. “The.. pleasure of even watching?”

Jill kisses his shoulder again before pulling herself away. She needs the space to grope his ass with both hands, giving a little laugh as she shoves him towards the bed.

"How greedy of me, hmm?"

It’s always funny when she manhandles him, the bulk of her force prompting him to move on her behalf, bending to put his hands down on the mattress and shift forward. He doesn’t know how she wants him; how fun, to let her push him around some more.

“I would not dare suggest so,” he says. “The lady need only consider me when she’s feeling generous.”

"The lady considers you constantly because she loves you immensely," Jill says, very serious until she starts to peel herself out of her clothes. She nearly stumbles over herself as her jeans get stuck on her foot. A hop and a hand on the bed keep her steady.

No more pushing, so he turns over, finding himself a seat on the bed. Just as well when she stumbles — he reaches towards her and she catches herself before he can, so he just chuckles and rids himself of his t-shirt.

“Then the lady ought to interrupt my sleep anyway, when it pleases her to.”

"She'll consider it. I would say the same to you, and you'd feel similarly," she points out with a smile. They don't wish to disturb one another. She wonders if all couples take such care.

Free of her shirt and jeans, her panties and bra come off next. The weather is still chilly--and while their home is often warm, she looks for any reason to cuddle up to her favorite furnace. And she does so with enthusiasm, crawling into his lap and grabbing him by the face for a kiss.

"I will wake you when you snore."

He gathers her into his arms, taking her with him as he sinks slowly back into the duvet, breathing in the kiss and savouring every second of it.

“So I should snore on purpose,” he says, just off her lips. “And move on you so gently that you are glad to wake.”

"I'm always glad to wake when you're the firs thing I see," she says sweetly. "Should I wake you gently, too? I admit, sometimes when I look over and see your mouth hanging open, I have to resist the urge to stick a finger in there."

What a terror.

“You should wake me by pressing something else to my mouth,” he says, hands roving down her hips, holding her against him, his cock snuggled between them. “No need to be gentle.”

He makes her laugh. He never misses an opportunity.

"You're insatiable." Like she's not just as bad. "Moreso as time goes by."

He looks up at her and pauses, content and relaxed. He smiles.

“It’s safe, with you.”

Oh. The words are so sweet she's caught off guard for a moment, staring down at him. She has to grapple with the swell of emotion in her chest before kissing him deeply.

"It is. And so is sending pictures, and asking for what you want..."

Everything, really.

"That makes me very happy, Clive."

She’s so beautiful that for an instant memory isn’t enough, and he wishes he could take a picture with his eyes. He sighs happily into that kiss, hands spanning up her sides.

“I’m still relieved you liked the picture,” he admits. “I want you to be happy always.”

Now she can never tell him it wasn't very flattering. Oh, well. He'll do better next time.

"You should send me pictures of your handsome face as well. I like seeing your smile."

Surely he can't screw that up.

"You're my greatest happiness."

“I’ll try my best,” he promises, and he will, even if sending a picture of his face feels more immediately daunting than one of his cock. He reaches up to brush her hair from her eyes. “I love you.”

"And I love you. Your best is always enough for me, Clive," she says before kissing him.

Bad photography skills can always be improved.

At least the memory of the picture on her screen and the near heart attack makes her laugh against his lips.

He can’t help but smile again when she laughs, and he gives her a squeeze.

“What is so funny?”

"Mm, nothing," she lies, smiling wider. Her hand slips between them to stroke him--a distraction. But she must say something.

"You're very precious, is all. You bring me joy every time you try something new. Something that I know makes you uncomfortable, because for some reason you imagine I may not be pleased."

She knows him.

"Nothing?" he repeats, with a pleasant hum, eyes fluttering shut briefly. She's so nice to him. "I just worry I will want something you will not like..."

How can she be anything but nice when he's sweet enough to try and send her a dick pic? Emphasis on try. It really was the thought that counted.

"I don't think so," she reassures. "You worry about upsetting me too much, Clive."

"I know," he says, a little guilty, and he slides his hands across her skin to briefly fondle her ass. "You would not judge me."

She hums softly, fond of how large his hands are. He can so easily grab any part of her.

"You looked like you expected me to yell at you when I came home." Funny, in retrospect, but also sad. She'd never. Not over a picture.

"I thought I'd made a mistake when I did not get a reply," he admits. "I expected you to come home, give me a dirty look and ignore me."

Her hand leaves his cock for a moment because she'd like his full attention.

"We don't do things like that anymore, Clive," she reminds him. Well, she doesn't, as she was the only one to really do that. Never again. "I'm sorry that I worried you by not responding. Truthfully, I saw the picture moments before Dion returned to our table."

She wasn't going to open his messages. Too risky.

“If you didn’t like it, I wouldn’t ask you to pretend you did,” he says, even if he’s tempted to not say anything at all. He owes her his honesty, too. But more importantly, with a growing alarm: “I didn’t consider Dion might see it…”

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noburden - 2025-03-13 04:50 (UTC) - Expand

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