[I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing this. She's not as appalled as she really should be, although that might just be because the reality of the situation hasn't sunk in yet. More than embarrassed, she feels a satisfaction that's both vicious and generous. She loves those twitches and gasps, those moments where his iron control cracks and she's the one who broke it.
She slips one hand under his shirt, to dig her nails into the flesh at his waist as the other strokes the length of him. She hasn't touched him like this in awhile -- not since that first time, which feels like forever ago but it's only been five months. Her grip is firm (maybe too firm?) and she starts off slow. They're pressed so close together, the tip brushes against her pants with every stroke.]
⊕ Friday!
She slips one hand under his shirt, to dig her nails into the flesh at his waist as the other strokes the length of him. She hasn't touched him like this in awhile -- not since that first time, which feels like forever ago but it's only been five months. Her grip is firm (maybe too firm?) and she starts off slow. They're pressed so close together, the tip brushes against her pants with every stroke.]