Chapter 117: A Collar
It took them a few days to work the kinks out of the care and feeding of a now decaf (and slightly pregnant) Abby.
Regular food became very important. She couldn’t skip meals, and tended to be happier with a somewhat constant stream of small snacks. Which made sense, after all it wasn’t Diet Caf-Pow she was sucking down every day. Fortunately, Charleston being a good food town meant they didn’t have any issues in finding a steady stream of yummy things.
Afternoon naptime really helped, too.
By dinnertime at the end of the first “good” day she was dragging around, feeling pretty crabby, and the headache was back. So the next day they dialed down the sightseeing, hit the aquarium, had lunch, went back to the hotel for some sex, and a nap, and noticed that by dinnertime she was still feeling pretty good. So naptime went onto the list of things to do, and that seemed to help a whole lot.
Neither of them was sure if the sleeping twelve hours a day was just a side effect of no more caffeine, or if it was a sign that their little dude was indeed on board, but it made Abby feel better, and Tim certainly didn’t mind a schedule rich in sex and naps (which also made it easier for him to cut back on his own caffeine consumption), so they both did well with it.
And there were a few points where she was staring longingly at his coffee, which if you consider how much Abby doesn’t like coffee, was a very strong sign that she really wanted a fix, but she didn’t drink any, and he did a fairly good job of remembering not to drink it in front of her.
So by the morning of the last day in Charleston, she was feeling pretty good, and was fairly certain she’d keep feeling fairly good, so another of the “treats” in her bag of goodies came out.
When Tim woke up, she was wearing her collar.
Granted Abby in a collar isn’t anything new. She wears a collar all the time. But this one, that he gave her for Christmas, is special. And while it looks a whole lot like most of her other collars, (As a matter of fact, this is the collar that goes with the wrist cuff he wears on his left wrist. Since she didn’t buy them as a set, it took hours of concerted effort and mad google fu to find it.) this is the one she wears when she wants him to Dom.
There’s being the dominant partner in whatever game they’re playing, and then there’s actually Doming, which is very different.
He smiles seeing her waiting for him. They haven’t done it in months, but it’s one of his favorite games.
She’s kneeling at the end of the bed, waiting patiently for him. He kisses her for a long minute, and then pulls back, taking another moment to get into the right mindset for this.
She does, settling on the spot on the mattress he patted.
“Did you bring your butterfly?” That’s something else he got her, though that one wasn’t a Christmas present. It’s a bullet shaped vibrator that fits into a soft silicon sheath in a sort of harness that looks, honestly, a little like a jock strap. It keeps the vibrator on her clit, but doesn’t block his access to her vagina or anus. And it has a wireless remote.
“You may speak when I ask you questions.”
She nods again.
“Go get it.”
She hops off the bed and returns with it a moment later. He takes it from her and places it on the bed, next to his hip.
“Have you had a shower, yet?” Her hair isn’t wet, but he also doesn’t know how long she’s been awake.
He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, and he led them to the bathroom.
Part of the reason they haven’t done this in months is because, while it’s fun, it’s a mindset that Tim doesn’t have an easy time switching into and out of. Actually, that’s not true, getting into it isn’t an issue. He can usually get into it in less than a minute. Getting back out of it is the issue. Which is a polite way of saying he really likes it, but he also knows that always being in charge isn’t a good plan for his long term happiness and continued employment at NCIS. For example, he knows he can dominate Tony and Ziva, because if there were ever people who did well with: have high standards, explain what you want, pet the person when they meet those standards, spank them when they don’t, it’s Gibbs’ team. And Tim’s good at that, and he’s got a few more tricks than Gibbs does when it comes to the petting part of the equation. (And no, when he’s thinking of Tony and Ziva, he’s not thinking of that, just that he’s more willing to show he’s pleased when people do a good job than Gibbs is.)
But if he were to do it, it’d topple the apple cart, screw up the team dynamics, and make things tense between him and Tony again, possibly make things awkward between Tony and Ziva, and probably mess things up with him and Gibbs (because Gibbs is the Dom for their team). So, since he can’t slide out of this on a moment’s notice, they don’t do it unless he’s got a few days between Doming and work.
And of course, he’s not due back to work in over a week. Plenty of time to get back to being Tim again.
So he smiles, turns on the water, and waits for it to warm up, Abby standing next to him, waiting for him to make the next decision.
It has not escaped Tim’s attention that Abby suddenly has ten more inches of hair than she used to. He’s been appreciating how she looks with that long spill of black and red hair down her back. Really enjoying it. However, since he’s appreciating it, he’d also like to keep it nice for as long as possible, and he has absolutely no idea of how to do that. One of his pet joys is washing her hair, but he doesn’t want to mess this up.
She did so, head bent, and he proceeded to pet her hair at his leisure, really exploring how it feels. The extensions are soft, warm, and feel like real hair, and also a little oddly nubby when there meet up at her scalp. He’s not loving that texture, but if that’s the cost of long hair on Abby…
“How do you take care of this?”
“Just like normal hair. Be gentle when you wash it, don’t rub too hard on the scalp, extra rinse time to make sure all the soap gets out.”
“Okay.” He reaches his hand into the shower, and the water is feeling nicely warm. He kneels behind her, lifting her hair off her neck, and gently kisses her nape above and below the collar, then unsnaps it (like his cuff it’s got two silver snaps for the closure). He’s done this enough times to have mastered unsnapping it, letting it fall so that it drapes over her shoulder, and then slowly dragging it off, letting it slip over her throat and shoulder, and every time he does that, she shivers. Today was no exception.
“Into the shower.”
She stands, gracefully, and slips in. He unsnaps his cuff, places both of the leather goods on the sink, and follows her in a second later.
Tim couldn’t tell you why he likes washing Abby’s hair, but he’s got some pretty good guesses. There are some pretty obvious reasons, like the way she moans when he does it. That’s on the list. It’s time where he get to touch her while she’s wet and naked, both of which are very good things. He thinks the heart of it might be that it’s a very caring gesture, comforting, very intimate. It’s not the sort of thing you do with someone you’re just casually with.
“Cross-legged, on the floor.” And she complies. “Any sounds you want to make, you may.” They’ve done this where he didn’t give her permission to make noise, just to see what it was like, and really, a good third of the thrill of making love to her is hearing her respond to him. Her silent while he went down on her was like a pretzel without salt, not bad, but bland.
The only time silent is fun is if there’s someone else nearby, and when that’s true silent gets overwhelmed by don’t-get-caught.
He pours a little of the shampoo into his hand and gets to work. A big part of how he usually does this is his fingers squirming on her scalp, rubbing into the skin, and pressing his thumbs into the tight muscles where her neck and head connect. He can still do that part of it, though the scalp rub just got a lot less intense.
But she still makes that very pleased, deep, satisfied moan when his thumbs go to work on her neck, and like always that sound settles in his dick, perking it up, getting it very interested in seeing if more sounds like that might be coming out of her anytime soon.
And they do. He rubs and kneads her shoulders while hot water beats down on both of them, and she makes soft little sighs and deep happy moans, and he’s fairly sure that what he’s doing doesn’t feel quite that good, but he doesn’t much care if she’s just doing this to turn him on because that’s all sorts of good, too.
By the time the last of the conditioner has rinsed free of her hair, he’s completely hard and thinking that her sitting on the floor of the shower puts her mouth in an awfully good position.
It’s true that the first time he did this, he blushed so hard he thought his head was going to burst into flame. Growing up with Penny and dating a sociologist who focused on gender roles in pre-industrial cultures at MIT meant that he’d had some fairly intensive training in how to treat women properly, and saying ‘Get down on your knees and suck,’ was more or less on the top of the list of things that a well-trained feminist guy just didn’t do. But it’s also true that the idea of saying ‘Get down on your knees and suck,’ made him so hard he could feel his pulse in his dick.
And for a long time he felt bad about that, and never, ever did it, let alone suggested doing it, until the first time he and Abby dated, and she asked him what his kinkiest fantasy was. When he explained why he was blushing so hard, she rolled her eyes, pointed to the door to her bedroom, and said, “Outside that door, you get bonus points for understanding privilege and gender bias, but that stays on the other side of that door.” Then she kissed him and asked, “Does it make you feel bad when I tell you to eat me out?”
“Do you think getting on your knees and licking my pussy is demeaning?”
“No! Of course not!” He looked, and was, horrified by that idea.
“I tell you to do it, does it mean I don’t respect you, or see you as an object?”
“No. Just means you like oral and want me to do it for you.”
“Then why should you feel bad about liking the same thing?”
When that clicked, he got a whole lot happier about his interests.
Abby’s sitting in front of him, waiting patiently, so he smiles at her, caresses her face, and leans against the back wall of the shower, legs spread shoulder-width apart.
And she does. Eyes open, looking up at him, mouth soft, and red, and wet, and so insanely good.
He settles in to watch her do him. There’s nothing else like this, getting to feel her and watch her do it. She holds him by the base of his cock and spends a good five minutes just licking, sucking, and playing with the tip, keeping her lips tight and letting him slip between them, providing the feel of that first tight, shallow thrust of sex, knowing how much he loves seeing her mouth on his dick, her lips slipping over it, and her tongue wet and hot rubbing against it.
She moans while she does it, and it’s a little hard to hear over the water and the fact that he’s not exactly being quiet either. But he can feel it, and that adds to his pleasure.
“Deeper, no hands.”
He loves her hands on their own. Loves when she blows him and uses her hand at the same time, even more. It’s all wet and slick and sucking and tight, it’s all so good. And that’s why he’s said no hands. Just mouth takes longer. It’s a slower build, more diffuse, less friction, but when he comes it’s more diffuse, too. He gets to feel it all through his body.
Her hands rest on his knees, and she pulls him deeper into her mouth, sucking harder, her tongue rubbing the underside of his dick. His hands clench and his head falls back against the wall of the shower. He’s cursing softly, letting her know in explicit and obscene detail how good it feels.
Her molars add a little sharp scrape to the smooth wet of her mouth, and he loves that sensation. It’s like fingernails down his back while fucking. It’s just brilliant on so many levels, and he feels really sorry for the guys who are so sensitive they can’t take this.
Her hands are clenched on his knees, and he notices that, so he says, “You can touch yourself if you want, but no getting off.”
He feels her right hand leave his knee, but he can’t see her play with herself with it. Her sucking him is in the way, and while it’s true that Abby playing with herself is one of his favorite sights, her sucking him off is even better.
He watches, breathing hard, jaw clenched, thighs tight, riding his body’s pleasure at her touch.
The one thing he isn’t doing is thrusting. He wants to, would love to, but he’s not. Part of being a good Dom is knowing what the sub wants, what she can take, and where her boundaries are, and he knows that if she’s not using her hands it’s way too easy for him to choke her, and neither of them are going to be happy if he gags her.
So he doesn’t. He lets her set the pace, and while he’s touching her face, hair, and shoulders, he’s just touching, he’s not grabbing or forcing or anything like that. He gets the idea of breath play, but he’s not comfortable doing that unless he’s completely in control, and his dick in her mouth isn’t conducive to completely in control.
He watches her do it, seeing if she looks like her jaw is getting sore. There’s only so long she can do this, and he doesn’t want to push her too far, especially since this is just the opening round for today, but he’s not catching the tell-tale tension in her face, so he says, “Slower, all the way down. You can use your hand to get the right angle.”
Abby can deep throat, though this isn’t a great position for it. (Sixty-nine works way better for that, but that also tends to shoot his concentration to hell and gone.) But she takes hold of him, pulling his dick down a bit, and then slips it, slowly all the way into her mouth, and he groans so loudly she blinks and smiles. (At least as well as she can with her mouth open wide. Her eyes look really amused.)
He can feel himself starting to fall apart. A slow orgasm is a thing of joy and beauty, and the feeling of just easing over the edge is glorious, but he’s not quite there yet, and he’s debating if he wants her to swallow of if he wants to cum on her.
It’s not something she really likes. In fact, in the shower is pretty much the only time he’s allowed to do it. (From what he can tell, it’s the only one of his kinks she’s not enthusiastic about.) And until getting back from Afghanistan, he didn’t know he liked it. But there’s something about seeing it on her skin that just does it for him.
And if there was ever a time where it’d be okay…
His touch on her shoulder lets her know that he’s going to turn so his body blocks the spray from the shower. She figures out where this is going, winks, lets him know it’s okay, and turns with him.
“Finish me with your hands. Want to cum on your chest.” He never gets her face. He knows from his own experience that if it gets into your eyes it burns.
So she did, a few fast strokes, and he was humming with pleasure, feeling it spark through his whole body, making him shake and twitch, as he watched his cum land on her in thick, drippy stripes.
When his heart calmed back down, and his breathing was closer to normal, he pulls her to her feet, and kisses her long and hard, petting her hair and back, then whispering sweet words of how happy he is with her and how much he loves her and what an excellent job she’s done at making him come.
She purrs at him, quivering in a pleased sort of way, and he turns her into the spray of the shower, letting it rinse away his cum, and then he gets down on his knees and kisses her properly.
She’s wet, and hot, and very turned on, and he makes sure to do a good job. He keeps his tongue soft and light, the sort of touch that just hints of better things to come, an almost exploring touch, while his fingers hold her wide open.
And when she’s thrusting against him, hands clenching in his hair, loudly groaning between a chorus of “Fuck Tim! Just like that!” he stops and stands up.
He kisses her mouth, whispering against her lips, “I promise, you will get off, and it will be glorious, but not yet, not now. We’re going to go out, see Charleston, maybe see a movie, and I am going to play with you all day. And when you are so turned on you can barely breathe, when you are shaking from head to toe, sobbing for release, when every muscle in your body is so tight it could snap, when every thought in your head is devoted to getting fucked and getting off, then I’ll plunge deep into you, fingers rubbing your clit hard and fast, and make you come so intensely you’ll pass out on my cock.” He kisses hot and wet on her ear. “And then I’ll do it again.” Another kiss, sucking her ear lobe. “And maybe, if you’re good, and if I haven’t gotten off yet, I’ll do it one more time.”
She’s quivering against him as he says that, arms wrapped tight around his neck.
He gives her one last, quick kiss, this time on her lips, and says, “Let’s get out of the shower and dressed.”