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Authors: Justine Elyot
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at her hand as it headed towards its destination. She kept her movements small and contained. She was embarrassed.
Was it cruel of him to find this even more exciting? Did it make him a bad person? He dismissed the shadowy thoughts the moment her fingertip made contact with her little peeking clit. She pressed into the deep pink bud for a moment, then lifted her arm again and licked her fingers, swiftly, with her head bowed, as if she hoped he wouldn't notice.
But of course he did, and his blood shot to his groin, making his already stiff cock painfully harder.
Now, with her wettened fingertips, she began to circle the swollen oval of flesh, then to rub at it, keeping her brows low and her hair over her face as much as she could.
He could see that she was trying to hi de as much from him as possible, holding her hand over her mons, and he clicked his tongue in reproof.
"I want to see it," he reminded her. "Hold yourself open with one hand and use the other to touch yourself. I want to see everything."
She huffed and puffed and tried to squirm out of it, but eventually she held her labia wide with the fingers of one hand while she used the other to manipulate her clit, slowly, under Rhys' instructions.
Much as he enjoyed watching her rub and stroke, he was almost more involved with her face. He wanted to know what she was thinking when she shut her eyes and parted her lips and seemed to drift away from him.
"What's on your mind?" he asked quietly.
"You," she whispered. "Things we've done."
This answer made him want to push his hand down his trousers and wrap it around his cock. God, the thought of him was enough to bring her off! He had never felt so like a king.
But perhaps she was just flattering him.
"What things?" he asked.
"Oh, Rhys, you know what things. Yesterday, when you bent me over that hay bale and pulled up my shirt and smacked my bum. I wanted you to do it. That's why I poked that straw in your ear. You just knew it was what I wanted, and you did it. Go od and hard too, until I was sore. And then you fucked me. Oh, oh."
He loved the way her voice cracked and trailed off, overcome with the erotic weight of its words.
She wriggled on her bottom, pushing herself into her self-pleasuring fingers.
"Hmm, that was good," he said , shifting uncomfortably, concerned that his cock might punch a hole in his jeans. "And thanks. How's it going? Are you close?"
"Quite…close," she panted.
"I want you to get really close," he said. "Really, really close. And then I want you to stop."
Her eyes fl ew open, as he'd hoped they would.
"Oh, you…" she moaned.
"I know. I'm a very bad man. I can't help it. You make me this way."
"Ohhh." Her fingers were a blur now, her thighs flexing in a fast rhythm.
"Don't you go coming without telling me, my girl," he whispered, leaning over the chess board to get a closer look. "I'll know."
"Oh God ," she exclaimed, snatching her fingers away. "You total bastard."
She clutched her face in her hands and wrenched at her hair, snapping her knees tight shut again.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said with a low chuckle, reaching out to take her hands away. He bent and nuzzled her face with his, nipping at her lips while she tried, unsuccessfully, to draw back. "That was mean of me, wasn't it?"
"I hate you," she breathed, but she gave in to his kiss without further demur.
"No you don't. Now, I think it's your move."
Rhys suspected she simply gave up even trying to play the game to win after that. Her pieces fell like ninepins, and she performed each corresponding forfeit with mock-grudgingness.
He was moving into his endgame by the time they lay, top to tail, on the hearthrug, with him pushing his tongue down inside her pussy while she sucked on his cock. Her thigh pressed down on his ear and he ate her like a starving man presented with his last meal, trying not to be too distracted by her attentions to his shaft. Buried here in her scented darkness, he wondered if he was going a
Was it cruel of him to find this even more exciting? Did it make him a bad person? He dismissed the shadowy thoughts the moment her fingertip made contact with her little peeking clit. She pressed into the deep pink bud for a moment, then lifted her arm again and licked her fingers, swiftly, with her head bowed, as if she hoped he wouldn't notice.
But of course he did, and his blood shot to his groin, making his already stiff cock painfully harder.
Now, with her wettened fingertips, she began to circle the swollen oval of flesh, then to rub at it, keeping her brows low and her hair over her face as much as she could.
He could see that she was trying to hi de as much from him as possible, holding her hand over her mons, and he clicked his tongue in reproof.
"I want to see it," he reminded her. "Hold yourself open with one hand and use the other to touch yourself. I want to see everything."
She huffed and puffed and tried to squirm out of it, but eventually she held her labia wide with the fingers of one hand while she used the other to manipulate her clit, slowly, under Rhys' instructions.
Much as he enjoyed watching her rub and stroke, he was almost more involved with her face. He wanted to know what she was thinking when she shut her eyes and parted her lips and seemed to drift away from him.
"What's on your mind?" he asked quietly.
"You," she whispered. "Things we've done."
This answer made him want to push his hand down his trousers and wrap it around his cock. God, the thought of him was enough to bring her off! He had never felt so like a king.
But perhaps she was just flattering him.
"What things?" he asked.
"Oh, Rhys, you know what things. Yesterday, when you bent me over that hay bale and pulled up my shirt and smacked my bum. I wanted you to do it. That's why I poked that straw in your ear. You just knew it was what I wanted, and you did it. Go od and hard too, until I was sore. And then you fucked me. Oh, oh."
He loved the way her voice cracked and trailed off, overcome with the erotic weight of its words.
She wriggled on her bottom, pushing herself into her self-pleasuring fingers.
"Hmm, that was good," he said , shifting uncomfortably, concerned that his cock might punch a hole in his jeans. "And thanks. How's it going? Are you close?"
"Quite…close," she panted.
"I want you to get really close," he said. "Really, really close. And then I want you to stop."
Her eyes fl ew open, as he'd hoped they would.
"Oh, you…" she moaned.
"I know. I'm a very bad man. I can't help it. You make me this way."
"Ohhh." Her fingers were a blur now, her thighs flexing in a fast rhythm.
"Don't you go coming without telling me, my girl," he whispered, leaning over the chess board to get a closer look. "I'll know."
"Oh God ," she exclaimed, snatching her fingers away. "You total bastard."
She clutched her face in her hands and wrenched at her hair, snapping her knees tight shut again.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said with a low chuckle, reaching out to take her hands away. He bent and nuzzled her face with his, nipping at her lips while she tried, unsuccessfully, to draw back. "That was mean of me, wasn't it?"
"I hate you," she breathed, but she gave in to his kiss without further demur.
"No you don't. Now, I think it's your move."
Rhys suspected she simply gave up even trying to play the game to win after that. Her pieces fell like ninepins, and she performed each corresponding forfeit with mock-grudgingness.
He was moving into his endgame by the time they lay, top to tail, on the hearthrug, with him pushing his tongue down inside her pussy while she sucked on his cock. Her thigh pressed down on his ear and he ate her like a starving man presented with his last meal, trying not to be too distracted by her attentions to his shaft. Buried here in her scented darkness, he wondered if he was going a
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