Chapter 304: The Lady McGee
After Gibbs leaves, Tim heads upstairs. Abby’s still in the shower, water still on full blast, so he takes a moment to head to their toy box, snag the glass dildo she’d used last when they were playing these characters, along with the… blindfold.
It’s not exactly a blindfold in the way most people mean that word. Pretty much just taking a scarf or tie or piece of fabric and tying it over someone’s eyes is a really inefficient way to go about making it so they can’t see.
If the fabric is narrow enough to not hide most of their face, (Which is important when it comes to sex play. It’s much easier to tell if your partner likes what you’re doing if you can see her face.) then it’s also narrow enough to gape at the nose. He’s also noticed that most fabrics don’t tie well against hair. Either the hair gets caught in the knot, or the fabric slips over the hair when the person wearing the blindfold moves her head, (say if she’s lying on her back and squirming, next thing you know the blindfold’s round her nose or in her mouth.) and more annoying than that, a blindfold that’s large enough to really block sight is a blindfold large enough to block most of the expressions on the person wearing it’s face.
So, Tim doesn’t much like a traditional blindfold.
But every now and again he likes to set a scene they don’t happen to have on hand, and Abby being able to see where they actually are takes away from the idea of the scene he’s setting.
So, about a year ago, after showing her the house for the first time, and not being very satisfied with how the blindfold he used then worked, he came across an idea, tested it out with Abby’s enthusiastic cooperation, and both of them were pleased.
It’s a cheap, little masquerade mask. Probably cost about three bucks. He trimmed it down a bit so it covers less of Abby’s face than it would otherwise. (She never blindfolds him, he likes watching way too much for that to be fun for him.) Then he bought some soft, black felt, and lined the inside of the mask, over the eyeholes, with it.
Voila, perfect blindfold. It stays in place when she moves. Her hair doesn’t get caught in it. She doesn’t have an uncomfortable knot in to deal with. If the elastic ever snaps, he’s got three more he can set up in a jiffy.
It’s even black.
He snags it, as well as the dildo, and the lube, and heads into their extra room, making sure everything is ready to go.
He’s laying on their bed, googling what sort of things Irish people wore in the 1300s, thinking about costume ideas. (Obviously not for this round, but for the story and future play. For this round, he’s debating putting on a kilt or keeping on his jeans.)
Looks mostly like tunics and a cloak. No hose, so that was a plus. No kilts, a minus. Maybe it’ll be magical Scotland, not like there aren’t already seventy million versions of that out there…
Hell, maybe their part of the universe has denim. Yeah, they’ll be cotton-baron dragons of a mythical medieval Alabama… He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. It’s fiction, and more than that, fantasy, you can set it up however you like.
The water stops running, and that pulls his attention away from costumes. A few minutes later, Abby’s standing in front of the doorway, toweling off her hair.
“So, besides ‘all cleaned up,’ do I get any hints for tonight?”
He answers that with a question of his own. “Does Skye have a first name? Is it a title, where she’s from, just something that sounds good?”
She sits on the bed and starts to smooth on her moisturizer, recognizing his lack of answer means that nope, no more hints. “Not sure. There’s an Isle of Skye, right?”
“I think so. And even if there isn’t one on the real world, doesn’t mean there can’t be one in my world.”
“Good point.” She thinks while he googles, then says, “Katherine. That’s an old-school English name, right?”
“Think so.” He looks up from his phone. “Isle of Skye. It’s up in northern Scotland, just off the west coast. It’s beautiful, green and craggy, no trees, or bushes, but lots of grass, rocks and sky, and water.”
“So… I’m thinking Katie got bored of fish and sheep and decided to make her fortune further south.”
He nods along with that and leans over to show her the picture on his phone.
“Does anyone live there?” Abby asks, the only thing that looks like human habitation on the pictures he’s showing her saw its glory days in the 1500s.
“Says about nine thousand do. Apparently it’s a tourist attraction.” He holds out his hand. “Want me to get your back?”
“Sure.” She squirts a bit of the lotion onto his palm, and he shifts to sitting behind her, rubbing it onto her skin. “Mmmm…”
“Always. Wanna go there, someday?” She continues to go through pictures of the Isle of Skye.
He shrugs. In the pictures, it’s beautiful. Very green and severe, lochs and moors, sky stretching out forever, the feel of the sea even in the pictures where you can’t see it. It doesn’t look like anything in the United States. He would like to see it.
The tenish hour flight to get there isn’t rocking his world. Though commercial air travel is likely quite a bit more comfortable than the troop/equipment transports Gibbs delights in plopping them on for work.
“Find a quiet bit of grass and make love on the moors?” She turns his phone toward him, showing him a shot of very green grass broken by standing stones. Looks, honestly, kind of rough and prickly to him, but that’s what picnic blankets are for.
He smiles at that. “As soon as we can drive there, I’m all for it.”
She laughs. “So, you want a name. Anything else?”
He thinks as his thumbs press into her shoulders. She purrs quietly at the massage. “You’ve been keeping me as a pet for a few months; what kind of stuff would Gabe have learned about Skye in that time? Besides her name.”
“If you’d been a pet, and really a pet, mostly how to fuck.” She looks over her shoulder and grins at him.
He mock pouts. “My charms aren’t enough to get you talking while drowsing post-sex?”
“You might be good in bed, but I don’t think Lord Gabriel McGee of the Nightfuries is much of a spy. If you were paying attention, you might know a whole lot more about alchemy now. But, really, I think you’re her boy toy, how she blows off stress at the end of the day.”
He trails his fingers down the back of her neck, making the fine hairs on her skin rise. “I suppose there are a lot of ways to bring honor to the clan.”
That gets a laugh. She shifts around, so she’s kneeling between his legs, and gently kisses him. “How’s your face feeling?”
“It’s sore.” The bruises from getting head-butted are sore, and his right eye is still a bit swollen. He kisses her finger and his tongue darts out to lick her fingertip. “This still works just fine.”
“Excellent.” She grins at him, and he sucks on her fingertip, letting his tongue slide over the tip, heavily hinting what’s coming later.
Kelly’s going to wake up soon, so he doesn’t want to get too deep into playing, yet. Right now is just about being with each other, setting a mood, and enjoying these little, everyday intimacies. So one last suck, a quick flick of his tongue, and then he releases her hand. Tim takes the bottle of moisturizer, and adds another squirt to his hand, then taps the back of his knuckles lightly against her knee. She changes position again, her leg over his, and he strokes the lotion over her right leg as she did her left.
“This stuff new?” he asks, hands smoothing up her leg. “Smells different.”
“Yep. You like it?”
“Not sure. It’s not bad. Just not that ‘you’ scent.”
“Turns out my last brand started testing on animals so they could sell their stuff in China, so I ditched them.”
He nods at that, rubbing her thigh gently, making sure all the lotion absorbs evenly. She let him keep it up for a minute or two longer than necessary, then takes his hand away from her leg and kisses it. “Don’t want to get me too revved up before I’ve got to feed Kelly.”
“Good point.” He glances at the clock. Any minute now, Kelly would wake up, and once she’d eaten they could get to really playing.
Abby stands up, slipping on one of her nursing bras. “So, costume for this?”
“Hmmm…” He ponders happily. “Were you planning on putting anything else on?”
“Robe or button down. Little too cool for naked.”
“Go for the robe then.”
She nods, reaching for it, and as she did, they heard the first tiny wail of their daughter looking for second dinner. Abby checks the clock. “That’s the fourth night in a row that she’s hit 10:04. How can she possibly be that accurate?”
“Back in a bit.”
He grins. “See you then, Lady Skye.”
Second dinner usually clocks in at half an hour. He uses that half hour to make sure he’s got his scene set. Everything looks in place. He’s standing in the spare room, checking around, thinking about his own costume.
Jeans or kilt…
You’re a captive sex slave breaking free. Did she let you have clothing? You didn’t in the first game. The keep’s fallen, everything is in chaos, you’re breaking out and snagging her to go with you. Did you go hunting for clothing before grabbing her or are you just grabbing her and leaving? He tosses off his jeans. No way you’d take the time to go scrounge up some pants. You’re grabbing her before someone else does, and getting the hell out of there.
He’s naked; the room’s set. Time to get in place for her. He picks up the blindfold.
Kelly’s room will be dim. The night light gives just enough illumination to make sure all poop comes off during the pre-feed diaper change, and that’s it. He flicks on the hall light, opens the bathroom door, turns on that light as well. He wants it bright out here, so for a few seconds she won’t be able to see much.
He waits, standing, pressed against the wall, right next to Kelly’s door. If this goes the way he hopes it does,
she’ll shut the door, he’ll leap over, snag her, get the blindfold on, hoist her over his shoulder, and into the not so empty, empty room they’ll go.
That’s the plan at least.
He can hear her humming, the slight click of the rocking chair settling back into place as she gets up. “Sleep well, baby girl.”
One step, two, three, her hand hits the doorknob.
She opens the door, blinking hard at the bright light, and he pulls her to him, fast, his hand over her mouth. “Quiet.”
“Your keep’s fallen. Time to get you out of here, Lady Skye.”
“Before I’m taken as a prize?” she whispers.
“Before you’re taken as someone else’s prize.”
“And how do you suggest we get out? You’re clearly wounded, unarmed, and naked.”
“I fought my way to you like this, and I’ll get us out.” He flashes her a cocky smile. Tim slips the blindfold over her eyes, hoists her over his left shoulder, and murmuring something he hopes sounds vaguely magick-y, he carries her into the spare room.
He’d set the room carefully. A few of the LED candles are glowing, providing him with enough light to see. He’d turned the “music” on while Abby nursed; it’s the sound of waves and wind. Turning the ceiling fan on means they have a bit of a breeze. Dragging the humidifier up from the basement and running it while she was nursing means the room is slightly damp.
It feels and sounds, he hopes, a lot like they are on the ocean.
He puts her down, gently, on the fuzzy rugs. “I wouldn’t stray far, Lady Skye, the water’s rough, and twenty feet below us.”
“I’m a good swimmer,” she says, still sitting, reaching around her, feeling what’s near.
“Make sure you jump far then, the rocks below us are rougher, yet.”
“And will I get my vision back?”
“Eventually. You don’t need it right now.”
“Why? Keeping me from running off?”
“Something like that,” he says as she feels around, finding the edges of the rug. “The cliff we’re on only extends a few feet beyond the rugs.”
“How did we get here?”
She stops feeling around and looks at him, exasperation on her face. “This whole time, you’ve been able to just leave whenever you wanted?”
“Yes.” He kneels, straddling her legs, and gently strokes her lips with his fingers. “But being your amusement of choice made for a very pleasant situation. Didn’t feel any need to leave until I could let my men know where I was.”
She nods, starting to put the pieces together. “And did my keep fall to your men?”
“Yes. Daegan has it now. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you’ll get back to it.”
“You’re just going to let me go?”
“That wasn’t how I was envisioning this working.” He sits back on his heels, next to her, slipping one of the scarves out from under the rugs, looping it over her big toe, crossing it over and over her foot, and tying it gently at her ankle. He kisses the knot and once again said something low and nonsense, magic words to work the spell. “On the off chance you can’t actually swim, this will make sure you don’t fall.”
“And how did you envision this working?” she asks, foot still between his hands, her hands braced against the rugs, leaning back against them, robe slipping off her left shoulder.
“Did you know I have six brothers?”
“You hadn’t mentioned that.”
He shrugs, gently stroking her ankle, tips of his fingers skittering between the lines of the scarf. “Well, we didn’t do a lot of talking. They’re envious of my position as firstborn and covetous of my lands. I would find it… convenient… to have a well-fortified keep they didn’t grow up in, finding all the nooks and hidden passages. A keep staffed with men who aren’t loyal to my family might be nice, too. Likewise, that keep of yours is on prime land, and it’s much easier to defend lands when the people attacking them do not know every river and glen.”
“Uh huh.” She doesn’t look particularly impressed by that, understanding where he’s going with this. She changes the subject. “What is this place?”
“Mine. This is my one holding that I do not have to defend from them. They see no use to it. First of seven boys, only one with a lick of magic to him. For them, this is just a cold lump of rock in the middle of the ocean. But for me… All magic is sea, sky, earth, and fire, and here, we sit on earth that was once fire, that burned until it hit the sea, cooled, became this shelf of rock, here sea beats below us, and sky dances above. Here we are fire made earth, held between sea and sky. Here is perfect.”
Abby moves the edge of the rug and touches the carpet below, as if to touch the rock. “Poetic. This is your power source?”
“One of them. But, yes, this is an especially fine node. Easy to pull off of, easy to work with. I’m not, by a long margin, the first mage called to this rock, and I won’t be the last. But while my heart beats, it’s mine.”
“Why bring me here?”
He smiles, but she can’t see that. So he reaches for her hand, and places it on his chest, over his heart. Her other hand lay on the carpet below the rugs, touching what would have been bare rock. “Bringing my heart to my heart.”
She tilts her head, teasing, emotional armor in place, but her voice is soft as she asks, “Are you really that fond of me, Dragon Knight?”
“I think I could become so, and I’d like that chance. I am that fond of your lands, and it’s an awfully nice keep, very comfortable, hot and cold running sex available at all hours. I like it there.” He smiles brightly, keeping the lightness in his voice, so she can hear it.
She smirks at that, starting to tug her hand away, but he holds her wrist firm over his heart.
“Do you think I’m that fond of you?” she asks him.
He keeps hold of her hand, lifting her wrist to his lips, kissing gently, and then biting softly, scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin where her pulse thrums. He smiles at her again. “We’ll find out.”
“Unlike you, Lady Skye, I’ve got more than thick walls to keep a person near.” Abby looks too amused to be properly Lady Skye, but, lack of proper indignation aside, he’s very pleased to see Abby’s having a good time with this. He kisses her wrist again, then licks gently up the inside of her forearm, speaking against her skin, letting the breath of his words tickle damp flesh.
“I bind you, Katie of Skye,” her eyes go wide as he says that. Apparently that isn’t what Abby or Skye expected him to do.
“I bind your flesh to mine.” He snags another of the scarves, one that already had a small loop tied into the end, slipping it over her first finger.
“I bind you Katie of Skye, here, where earth meets air.” He wraps the scarf over her hand and wrist, looping it further up her arm as his lips slip over each new word.
“I bind you, here, where sea kisses earth.” He kisses the crook of her elbow with that.
“I bind you, here, where fire met water.
“I bind you, here, in the shadow of where fire leaps to air.
“I bind you, here, my woman” a kiss to her wrist, “to my magic” a kiss to her palm, “to my name.” One last kiss to her lips.
He finishes tying the knot onto her arm, and then shifts his hold to her other arm, where the knot tattoo is. “I bind you, Katie of Skye, brand you with my mark, take you as my woman.
“I bind you, Katie McGee, from this day ‘til our spirits return to the heavens that gave us birth.
“I bind you.”
Abby’s grinning widely at that, and he has no problem feeling her break character as she says, “I like that.”
“Really?” That was quite a bit more one-sided than he’s ever taken his playing before. After all, Skye, in character, probably wouldn’t have been thrilled with the whole magically overpowered, taken captive, and married by force thing. And though he liked saying it, was in it, with the character in the moment, there is a part of him feeling a bit wary going that far. He thinks she knew he’d need a bit more reassurance to take this that far, and he appreciates getting it.
“Oh yeah!” She’s nodding at him. “I think most girls like the idea of being swooped up, taken, and claimed, by the right guy. You know, as a game… Different if it’s real. But, sometimes it’s nice to be reminded of exactly how much bigger and stronger you are. Sometimes, it’s fun to be… swept off your feet, literally.”
He slips off her blindfold, (he doesn’t like having a real conversation when he can’t see Abby’s eyes) and she quickly looks around, appreciating what he’s done to set this.
“Why are there two kitchen chairs up here?” There’s a chair on either side of the rugs.
He smiles happily at her, naughty gleam in his eyes. “That binding might get a whole lot more literal. Just don’t tug hard; they won’t hold for much.”
She’s still grinning at this, and looks him in the eye and says, “Sometimes, an edge of danger is fun. Sometimes, the safeword isn’t just about making sure you’ve got a way out, sometimes it’s about allowing the illusion of lack of consent…”
That’s way further than they’ve ever taken his Doming. He knows he’s not comfortable going that far. She’s never said no in a game, but he’s sure, even though that’s not her safeword, that it’ll stop him dead.
Edge of danger, bigger, and stronger, and just taking what you want… That’s also a different flavor than how they usually play. Even when he is in charge, he’ll tell her what he wants, have her do it for him, but she always has the control of not following orders. He’s never just taken what he wants. There’s a huge chasm between saying, ‘Pull it out and suck’ and actually grabbing a woman by the head and forcing her to do it.
He’s looking at her, not quite sure how to even put what’s bouncing around in his mind into words, but she’s nodding at him, reassuring.
“Play with me. Trust me, I’ll like it. And Skye’s not from around now, she’s used to a world where men decide what they want and then grab it.”
“But, does she like it?”
“She does if the right guy’s doing it.”
“Is Gabe the right guy?”
“I have a feeling that’s the main plot of book one.”
“You think there’s more than one book here?”
“Oh yes.” She grins up at him, kisses just below his chin, where his skin is unbruised, and then slips the blindfold back over her eyes.
Tim takes a moment to shift the storyline in his head a bit, embracing a more ‘taking’ less ‘telling’ perspective. Then says, “It’s not nice to tease a man.”
He leans over her, snagging another scarf, whispering in her ear, “Not nice to show him something he wants, day after day, letting him see, but not touch.” He bites her earlobe, and then ties her right wrist (loosely) to the leg of the chair.
“And what, poor little Knight, did you want so badly that you couldn’t have?” She tugs the binding as a token complaint against being tied, but Abby’s being careful not to yank too hard.
His hands stroke over her hips, unknotting the tie on her robe, pushing it off her body and up and over her arm, so it pools in a soft silk puddle up by her right hand.
“Hands and knees, Lady McGee, on your hands and knees.”
Abby’s wriggling in a very pleased sort of way. Completely out of character for Skye, but well, he’s a guy, and an ass guy at that, and her wriggling a soft, plump ass at him in a very come and get it manner hits him all sorts of all right.
He quickly ties her left ankle to the other chair, spreading her legs apart, and lays a line of kisses down her spine, then settles, kneeling between her legs, looking.
“Best view in the world,” he says, hands cupping her rear, stroking gently over her skin, staying to the sides, nearer her hips than her pussy.
“Not my face?” she asks, back into Skye, looking (well, not looking, she’s got the blindfold on, but turning her face to him) over her shoulder.
He pats her cheek gently. “Get to see your pretty face all the time. This treasure’s usually hiding under your skirts. Shame to see it covered.” He gently licks the base of her cross tattoo. “Maybe I’ll do that… Take you to my home, keep you bent over all day and night, on display for my pleasure? You kept me ninety-seven days. Shall I keep you bent over for me ninety-seven days?”
“Open to your every whim?”
He growls gently at that. Many, many whims flashing through his mind. “You’re teasing again.”
“Maybe I like teasing. Besides, what sort of teasing is this? ‘Get to see but didn’t touch.’ You touched me all over.”
“No, Lady McGee, I didn’t. You let me touch here.” His hands slid down her hips and legs. “And here” he drags them up the backs of her legs, over her ass, and up her back. “Of course here.” He cups her breasts gently. “And here.” His fingers trail down her throat and over her arms.
He kisses her pussy lightly, just brushing his lips against hers. “Loved touching there.” He slips his tongue between her lips, lapping gently at her, taking the time to savor her taste and tease her clit, working her until she’s rocking against him, soft, breathy moans matching the cadence of the waves in the recording. When he felt her start to tighten, when her voice got higher and her legs began to just barely quiver, he slid further up, over her perineum, and an inch further, circling her anus then lightly flicking his tongue against it.
She jerks at that touch, gasping, sounding surprised, drawing in a little, and he’s sure that’s her being Skye, because he knows Abby likes that just fine and having been told to get all clean, was certainly expecting something like that to happen.
“But you didn’t let me touch here.” He licks his finger, making sure it’s wet and slick, and then slides it over her, circling the delicate skin. “You teased, and you let me imagine, you told me how good it’d be, let me see,” he grabs the glass dildo and trails it over her, “that, but you didn’t let me touch.” He bites the curve of her buttock, where it met her thigh, while continuing to circle her with his finger.
“No more teasing, Lady McGee, time to deliver on your promises.”
She inhales fast and hard, shifting away from him as much as she can without pulling too far on the ties and tipping over the chairs.
He strokes the dildo up the insides of her legs, teasing closer and closer toward her pussy, but not touching. “No sarcastic quip for me? No more teasing?”
She shakes her head. “Not about that.”
He licks gently over her, tongue trailing in a wet, silky promise. She tightens against him, squirms, partially pulling away, partially pushing back, getting more friction, and sighs. He licks again, and again, nothing demanding, no penetration, just kissing her properly, making sure everything was warm and wet, quivering in anticipation. When he pulls back he says, “Do you not like it?”
“I like what you’re doing. I’ve… never…” She blushes prettily, and Tim’s not sure if Abby’s so into Skye right now she can’t find the edges between them, or she’s just that good of an actress. Either way, he’s really liking it.
“Never?” That got another long, wet lick, and this time he points his tongue, very gently starting to press forward, wriggling against her. When she presses back against him, he stops. “Tease me like that, and you’ve never…”
He bites her gently again, growling, feeling a surge of lust-filled possessiveness through him. “Nothing a man likes better than virgin territory.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she says very quietly.
“Afraid I’d like it?” he asks, gently, concerned.
“Afraid of being marked by you.”
That got a smirk, and another kiss, his fingers dancing over the lip print on her throat and the cuff tattoo on her arm. “Little late for that, Lady McGee. You’re mine. Body, lands, soul. Mine.” He leans up, so that his chest covers her back and his lips are near her ear. “See me.” He whispers against her ear, and slips the blindfold off. She turns her face to him, and he kisses her lips. “I want you to see me do it. I want you to know it’s my body. No closing your eyes, no pretending. My body, in yours. My cock, making you come.”
“You’re awfully sure about that.”
“Ninety-seven days. That’s how long you held me. Eighty-nine of them you came to me. Came for my tongue, my cock, my fingers, my body. You slept in my arms and screamed my name. I know you had other men you kept as toys, but you came back, over and over, for me.”
“Maybe they were just lame fucks,” she says with a smile, seeming more in control.
“Maybe. But you know I’m not.” He unbinds her hand and ankle. “When I sink into you, I want you to see it. I want you watching. First man to take your ass’ll be me, and I want to make sure you know it.” He picks her up again and carries her into their bedroom, dropping her on the bed and quickly adjusting the mirrors in their room.
A second later, he’s back again, this time with the dildo and lube. He takes a few seconds to rearrange the pillows, wants something to help keep him easily propped up, then he reclines against them, shoulders and chest off the bed, rest of him lying down.
“Hands and knees again. Over me. Want you sucking me while I play with you.”
Abby nods, settling into place over him. He scoots them (and the pillows) over a few inches. “Can you see everything?”
“Yes.” It’s not an easy angle to get a good view of, but lots of mirrors means he can bounce the view off of one to another, so she can see him as he touches her.
“Good.” He licks her slow and steady. Then notices she’s not doing much licking of her own, and pushes his cock toward her lips. A second later, when she sucks him in in one long pull, he groans. “Perfect, just like that. Keep me happy, while I get you ready.”
One last lick, wet and slick and lavish, lingering on her skin, making her arch against him, he’d probably like to do more, but once penetration gets involved he stops being able to kiss the rest of her, and he’s got a damn good way of helping distract from the uncomfortable part of stretching out, one he needs a clean tongue for.
He reaches around, finding the lube by feel, and tossing it to her. “Slick up my fingers.”
She does, using lots of lube. This is one time when extra friction isn’t a good thing. He pulls her hips a bit higher up, begins to stroke her clit with his tongue, while his fingers begin to gently massage around her anus. He takes his time, slow, easy, lots of long strokes with the pads of his fingers to relax the muscles, help get everything loose and happy.
She’s rocking against him, humming blissfully against his dick, mouth wet and supple on him, making it difficult to concentrate on what he’s supposed to be doing, but it’s the best kind of distraction.
He starts to ease his first finger in, slow, steady pressure, while he sucks on her clit, flicking it with his tongue. She’s moaning against him, thrilling him with the sounds of her pleasure and the feel of it on his dick.
Once his finger’s sunk in he pulls back for a second to say, “God, that’s beautiful. So, hot and tight. Still watching?”
He feels her nod and starts on finger two. Slow, gentle pressure, easy stretching, making sure her body has time to adjust. Making sure to keep her just on the edge of getting off as he adds each new finger. He’s reading her responses carefully, feeling the building tension in her body, the almost-there clench of her ass around his two fingers as his tongue speeds up, getting her closer and closer. He wants to feel her twitching around him as he slips the third finger in, wants to hear her coming on him.
It’s there, that breathy, gasping, high-pitched moan that lets him know it’s time. He speeds his tongue and slips the third finger in, fast, knowing by that point she’s so turned on the burn’ll feel good. And it does, or seems to, at least, her legs twitch and her body spasms around him as the third finger slides home.
He waits until she’s not twitching anymore, until her breathing calms back down. She’s resting against him, not sucking anymore, just lightly licking his thigh. “Still think my confidence is unfounded.”
He wriggles his fingers. “Still feel good?”
He starts to pump them in and out, slowly. She moans again. He rises his hips toward her again. “That wasn’t nearly muffled enough.”
She giggles and takes him back into her mouth. He moans, then goes back to licking her, rolling her clit with his tongue in fast circles as his finger set a slow steady glide. When her mouth work starts to get sloppy, when she lets him slip out and doesn’t seem to be paying much attention at all to his dick, that’s his cue to move from fingers to the dildo.
He was about to press the dildo in when an idea occurs to him. An idea they haven’t played with before. He’s not even entirely sure how the mechanics of it would work, but he reaches back, just able to get the drawer on the nightstand open, grabs one of the condoms, and quickly covers the dildo.
Abby had been watching and is looking at him curiously. They’re the only ones that use their toys, not like they need extra protection. He adds more lube to the condom and then pushes forward with one long, smooth thrust, watching her shudder and moan.
“How’s it feel?”
“Full—“ he slides it out a little and she moans again. “Hard. Unh… Slick…” She rocks back onto it, groaning again, head dropping to his thigh.
He pulls her head up by her hair. (Gently, mostly just nudging her up.) “Keep watching. Want you to see every second of this.”
He bends low, licking her clit while sliding the dildo in and out, listening to each hitched breath and half moaned sigh. Again he licked until her body was tight, quivering on the edge of climax, and again he stopped.
“Fuck you, Gabe, do not leave me like this,” she spit at him as he pulls back, lips, chin, and neck shiny with her juices.
“Patience, Katie. I’ve always gotten you there before. Tonight’s not gonna be any different, love.”
“Damn well better.”
“Up, off of me.” He sits back on the bed, still making sure the mirrors are keeping everything in easy view. He takes her hands and gets her straddling him, so she was over his cock, facing the mirrors, then holds her hips so she couldn’t sink down. “Stay. Watch.” He coats his cock with lube, generously, pumping his shaft with his hands as her eyes follow every motion.
Then with slick fingers, he got a hold of the dildo, slid it out, stripping off the condom, and pulled her onto him, sinking balls deep into her pussy, hissing at the feel of it. “Fuck, Katie, you feel so good.” He rocks into her, feeling her rise and fall against him, and then on yet another upstroke he stopped her, pulled out, and shifted his dick back.
“Watch. Watch my cock slip into you. Watch me fuck that glorious tight little ass of yours.”
She slowly lowers herself, and they both watch her body spread around him, watch as his slick flesh was enveloped by hers.
Her eyes grow heavy, and he knows they usually close when she’s feeling intense pleasure. “Keep them open, Abby, want you to see me fuck you.”
“Yes” slurs into a deep groan as she settles onto him.
He’s kissing her shoulder and neck, reveling in the soft, tight, hot, so incredibly hot, feel of her body on his.
“Want you to touch yourself. No getting off until I say you can, but I want to see your fingers on your clit.”
“Yes.” She does, circling slowly, and he feels her muscles tighten against him.
His teeth worry her shoulder, nipping along the skin, as he rocks gently in and out. Can’t move too much, but right now he’s just adding a little friction, enjoying how this feels, her body so tight and slippery on his.
Finally he remembers he’s still got the dildo in hand, and why he put a condom on it in the first place.
“Suck it. Get it good and wet.” Not that it really needs it. She’s so wet there’s a puddle on the bed under them, but he likes to watch. And like always her perfect mouth wrapping around something dick shaped and slurping ramps him up a few more notches.
She stops licking, eyes glinting at him, knowing where this is going to go.
“Never tried this before.”
“Didn’t think you had. Okay?” They’re both fully out of character, but it doesn’t matter.
“Oh yeah. Go slow.”
“I will. Keep rubbing yourself. Want you so close you’re begging for it.” He licks her earlobe as he says, “But no coming. Not until I say you can.”
Her fingers speed up, faster pace, not flying over her skin, but moving quickly, firmly. He keeps rocking against her, building up his own speed, and then begins to rub the head of the dildo against her. Not slipping in, not yet. Just playing it over her lips, nudging between them, letting her use the head like a finger, rubbing it over her clit, then sliding back again to trail lightly over her pussy lips.
She starts rising and falling on him, fingers moving a bit faster, and she might not be begging for it, but he knows he’s not going to be able to hold on all the much longer, so Abby flushed red and whimpering is close enough. He shifts his hold on the dildo, moving it a fraction of an inch, gently parting her lips with it, and holding it in place, letting her sink down on it.
She does, slowly, hissing, body tight, low, deep groan echoing from her lips. “Oh God!”
He agrees with that. ‘Oh God!’ is right. It feels amazing. He didn’t think it’d feel that different to him, but it’s more pressure, more tight, more everything, and he really likes it.
He stops rocking, knowing he can keep his hands moving or his hips, but not both, not this far gone. Abby’s slipping up and down on him, fast, blowing his mind. He starts to ease the dildo up and down, different speed than her hips, and that… that’s her cursing with every breath, a long half-gasped litany of delicious profanity, and him… he’s got no idea, he knows he’s making noise because that, up-down, her body at one speed and the dildo at another, and he can feel it sliding up and down against him, but not exactly, because he’s feeling it through her. It’s like her, all around, but her more, where the ridge of glass pushes into her, and it’s pressure and tight and friction and everything moving at once and just, holy fucking mother of god gold-red-white pulsing, burning, tingling pleasure through his whole body, every nerve sizzling with it, shouting, probably as loud as he can, her body clenching and spasming and rippling and everything wet and limp and lightly twitching, collapsed on each other, so high neither of them is in any danger of coming down anytime soon.
Or, coming down right now. Waaaa… Crying baby is the proverbial wet blanket tossed on a good post orgasmic glow.
Abby’s not moving at all. Tim really doesn’t want to move, either. Really. Every limb of his body feels like it’s made of gently twitching, very happy, cement. But not only is it his night, he also missed the last two, so really, he needs to get up and get Kelly back down again. He inches away from Abby, very much regretting not getting to nestle in close and let his body calm back down, basking in the tight gentle heat of hers as he went soft.
He’s quietly muttering to himself about Kelly picking an extraordinarily inconvenient time to stop sleeping through everything, as he wipes up a bit, when he notices the clock, 1:04. Or she’s just woken up at her usual time, and they played a bit too long.
He stumbles into her room. “I’m here.”
The appearance of a parent (late) but no food produces what could best be called an irate look. But in a few minutes, when she’s cleaned up, laying against his chest, slurping away on her bottle, she’s mollified. And, by the time she’s mollified, Abby’s gotten cleaned up, too, and come in, sitting on the floor, head on his knee, dozing against him.
Eventually Kelly finishes eating. Eventually they go back to bed. And eventually he curls up behind her, lips pressed to her shoulder, inhaling the post-sex scent of her skin, and falls into a deep, content sleep.