Friday, August 1, 2014

Shards To A Whole: Valentine's Tim

McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.


Chapter 357: Valentine's: Tim

"God, Borin must be so hot! I mean, I knew she had to be, but… Damn!" They're back at Tim's house, lurking in the kitchen as Tim gets dinner ready, and Tony's been… talking is probably a stretch, musing might be better, as to exactly how those bite marks got on Gibbs.

Tim and Jimmy have gotten to the eye-rolling stage, because, while it's true that all three of them just stared at Gibbs as he headed into the showers, more less all thinking the same, God damn, good for you, Gibbs! and it's also true that both of them are interested in gossiping about this, they don't want to gossip with Tony about it, they want to tell their wives.

And it may be that Tony wants to talk to Ziva, but she's not here, and they are, so he's chattering away, sitting on the floor, stacking blocks for Kelly, while Jimmy finishes feeding Anna her bottle, and Molly plays with her new birthday toys.

"It's a good thing you muffed asking her out, McGee. She would have killed you."

"That was her!" Jimmy says, eyes wide. Tony more or less sprinted down to Autopsy to produce a verbatim re-do of Tim asking out Borin as soon as he got a shot, and Jimmy laughed so hard he almost wet his pants. (Ducky had to take his glasses off to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes.)

Tim gives both of them the stink-eye. "I needed a way to get tickets for something fun to take Abby, my Abby, to without it looking like a date. So, I had you buy tickets, did the worst job I possibly could asking Borin out, oh, and by the way, later that night, when you and Ziva were playing darts, she still said 'Yes,' which meant I had to explain how I hadn't actually intended for her to be even remotely interested in saying yes, so she wished me luck, which is why Borin knew about Abby and I before you did, Tony.

"So, while you full-on chickened out, I asked Borin and Abby out in one day and both of them said yes. And, Tony, just because I haven't had any the last two weeks, so you haven't seen them, it's not like Jimmy
and Gibbs have never seen me in the locker room sporting hickies." He taps his wrist cuff. "I started wearing this to cover some bruises I really enjoyed getting."

"Why would you have a hickie on your wrist?" Jimmy asks. Yes, he's seen the occasional love bite on Tim, but never one there. Wrist sucking doesn't strike him as particularly erotic, but Tim's into some weird stuff, sooo...

Tim smirks. "Wasn't a hickie."

"What was it?" Jimmy asks, curious. Tim gives him a long look and after a second the light goes on and Jimmy says, "Oh."

Tim nods.

Tony squints a bit at that, then shrugs and comes back with, "I didn't chicken out!"

"Sure," Tim says, sarcasm high. "You were going to 'let me have her.'" He rolls his eyes.

Tony glares at him. Jimmy flashes a curious look to Tony. "You left that part out."

"When you know you're in love with someone else, you don't ask out a woman who might expect more than a quick fu—good time." Molly's looking up at him with very big eyes, listening intently. This conversation probably doesn't make much sense to her, but he's fairly sure that she'll pick up on that word and start repeating it if she hears it. And he does not want to have a conversation with Breena about how her two-year-old learned that word. No, he's more than happy to have that be on Dad or Uncle Tim. "Those days all I was doing was picking girls up at bars. Wasn't looking for anyone who might expect me to spend the night. And someone I'd work with…" Tony shakes his head vigorously. "No… Let alone the female version of Gibbs. That'd be a disaster all around. Still, don't think I've ever seen him that relaxed."

Jimmy nods, and Tim has to agree with that. "When we lived on base housing, there was this one guy, three houses over, old, been in the Navy forever, he'd call it 'gettin' your ashes hauled.'" Tim's also aware of the two-year-old listening to this conversation while she plays with her birthday toys. "Yeah, those were some hauled ashes."

"Bet she's pretty damn relaxed, too," Tony says with a smirk.

"Think she's on a case? Maybe… I don't know, being nice, and smiling, and driving her co-workers crazy because they can't figure out what the hell happened to the Borin they know?" Tim asks with a chuckle.

"No!" Tony shakes his head definitively. "You remember Gibbs on a case with Hollis? She's biting everyone's heads off trying to get the job done faster so she can go bite on Gibbs some more."
Jimmy and Tim laugh at that.

Molly pipes up. "No biting!"

"You're right, Molly, no biting." Jimmy stares at Tony did you have to mention biting on his face. Tony looks back at him you were laughing, too on his. "You don't bite the people at day care or your sister. Uncle Jethro's friend was being very naughty."

"Very naughty," Tony says with a smirk. Tim and Jimmy try not to laugh.

She nods, pleased that she's correctly remembering the rules, and then returns to whacking the little dolls that pop up on her game.

"Wouldn't have pegged her for a… kisser," Tony says, watching Molly play.

Jimmy shrugs. "Basic anatomy Tony, orgasm causes muscle spasms. More intense the orgasm the more muscles spasm. Jaw's a muscle. There's a reason why simultaneous orgasms and sixty-nining isn't a great plan."

Tim and Tony just stare at him, and Jimmy looks back at them, smug, and says to Tim, "What, you think you're the only one who's ever made a girl black out? Gibbs was just lucky she had his thigh in her mouth. 'Course, that tension/release response works both ways, bet she's got some interesting marks, too."

"Palmer, that was one sentence further than you needed to go. I don't need images of Gibbs getting off in my head," Tony says.

Jimmy shrugs. Good for the goose, good for the gander, right? Not like he edits Gibbs out of the mental pictures that go along with this conversation. Apparently, Tony does. "Okay, here's a better image. What do you think our girls are doing?" He's patting Anna's back, trying to get a burp out of her as he asks.

"What makes you think we know any more than you do?" Tim asks, as the timer on the oven bings. He pulls dinner for the four of them that eat solid food out of the oven. (Baked salmon, roasted onions, zucchini, and eggplant.)

Jimmy flashes Tim his I can't believe you just asked me that look. "Gosh, I don't know? Somehow I got this weird idea that you two were like, cops, and that Tony never met a mystery he could leave be, and you peek at you presents ahead of time, so, like, maybe you two would have snooped or something?"

Tony opens his mouth to say something along the lines of how, as a now veteran husband, he's learned that if Ziva says leave it alone, he's going to leave it alone. But he's cut short when all three of their cells buzz in quick succession.

Tim's had a text from Abby. Check your email.

He flashes back. Checking.

It takes his security program a few seconds to burn through the encryption on her email, but finally it does, and he sees there are ten photos and a video linked to it.

As soon as he opens the first photo, memories of Afghanistan and the day he got home from Afghanistan flood through him. Same cobalt blue teddy with white lace trim, same matching panties, but this one isn't a selfie, Breena or Ziva must have snapped it.

She's kneeling on the bed, Jimmy and Breena's bed, nibbling her bottom lip, nipples hard, hands clasped behind her back, sweet, innocent, but not really expression on her face, her makeup soft and natural looking. The sheets and pillows are mussed, her hair is wild, and she looks like she's just hopped up from bed to greet him and invite him to join her.

He closes his eyes and bites his lip. Fuck!

He can hear Tony chuckling, and Jimmy's not making any noise at all.

He knows not to look at the other nine pictures. They're all going to be variations on this theme and he can see from the thumbnails they're going to get sexier and sexier.

"Killing us, Jimmy, that's what they're doing," he says as he sees the little icon for a movie.

Jimmy nods slowly, not looking away from whatever's on his phone.

Tim can't make himself not click on the video. His brain is reminding him he's standing in the kitchen, Jimmy and Tony four feet away, Molly and Kelly on the floor, and there's absolutely no shot at all that he can watch anything that'll be on there and not get hard, but his finger still taps the screen and it starts to play.

He hears a quick giggle and hits mute, fast. He does not want Tony or Jimmy to hear whatever it is that's coming up.

Apparently Ziva had to be filming this one because he could see Breena and Abby. He feels his heart start to speed up. They're both in little teddies. Abby's in the blue and white one. Breena's in light pink with a little pink thong. They're on what has to be Breena and Jimmy's bed, sitting next to each other, Abby half kneeling, feet tucked under her butt, facing Breena. Breena's cross-legged, facing the camera. They both wave at the camera; Abby blows it a little kiss, and Breena winks, mouthing 'Happy Valentine's Day!', then Abby turns toward Breena, cups her face in her hands, while Breena's hands slip up her arms to lightly rest on her shoulder, for a second Abby's eyes flicked to the camera, and Breena grins, and then they kiss.

Tim whimpers. He can't make that sound not rip from his mouth.

Soft, slow, and wet kissing. Full, luscious red and pink lips rubbing all over each other, little, tiny glimpses of wet, pink tongues stroking each other, and Abby runs her hand through Breena's hair, her long, tumbling along her back in soft curls, hair, and Breena reaches up, pressing her body into Abby's, and every single ounce of blood in Tim's body is racing toward his dick as fast as it can possibly go.

He hears Jimmy choke next to him and realizes he must be seeing the same thing.

"What?" Tony asks. He's starting to circle around to see, and Tim rapidly tucks his phone into his pocket. Tony takes a step toward Jimmy, and Tim has enough presence of mind to grab him and stop him, because from the look on Jimmy's face he's completely unaware of the fact that he's in Tim's kitchen with two other guys.

Finally, Tim pulls enough brain cells together to say, "You just get an email from Ziva?"

"Yeah." Tony grins.

"Good stuff in there?"

"Promise of good stuff later."

Tim takes a deep breath. Abby knows how to encrypt an email. So what he got was encrypted. He doubts Ziva does, and she'd be aware enough of the risk, so she wouldn't send something like that without encryption, and Breena just wouldn't care.

"It's really good stuff. Jimmy and I just got ours."

"How good?" Tony glances at Jimmy, seeing him completely absorbed by whatever he's watching, absently patting Anna.

Jimmy's still staring at his phone. Tim watches him, sees the tension in his face and shoulders, realizes that kiss must still be going on and that it's possible there was more than kissing happening and oh fucking god he needs to be seeing that right this second, but Tony's still next to him, waiting for him to say more.

"It's really, really good." He says, eyes closed and nodding.

"Like, dirty pictures?" Tony says with a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, like that."

And Tony, understanding the guy code of you don't look at another man's wife, especially if she might be naked, takes a step back, so there's no shot of seeing the screen on Jimmy's phone, and says, "So, you two got emails of really, really good stuff, and I got an email telling me there would be good stuff later."

"Apparently."

Jimmy finally blinks, puts his phone into his pocket, hand shaking, carefully gives Anna to Tim, and walks out of the kitchen without saying anything.

Tony watches him do it. "I really don't want to know what he's about to do, do I?"

"Probably not." Tim shakes his head. "Let's put it this way, Breena, Abby, and Ziva don't seem to get that there's a point where teasing stops being fun and crosses the line into torture. And in that Anna's a little over two months old, my guess is that tonight is supposed to be their first night back at it…"

"Oh!" Tony suddenly gets exactly (okay, not exactly, but he's got a much better idea of why Jimmy's acting like a fourteen-year-old) what's going on with Jimmy.

"Yeah. Can I have your cell?"

Tony looks confused. "Why do you want mine?"

"Because if I take mine out of my pocket, I'll see the end of what Jimmy was just watching, and… now's not the time."

"Wait, why did you guys get the same… watching… video?"

Tim swallows. "Because Abby and Breena are evil and enlisted Ziva to help them be evil."

Tony's eyes go really wide and his expression seems to be somewhere between blind with lust and homicidal rage. "Abby and Breena and Ziva?"

"From what I saw, Ziva was the camerawoman."

Tony looks much more relieved, and then a really dirty smirk spread across his face. "Breena and Abby?"

"Yeah, and I need to send her a text and if I pull my phone out, I'll just watch them, and end up in pretty close to the same state Jimmy is."

Tony laughs and hands over his phone. Tim sends a quick text to Abby and Breena.

Tim here. You are EVIL! Jimmy's brain melted. That was not nice!

A minute later he feels his phone buzz, so he takes it out, sees the video has ended and finds Yours didn't? from Abby.

I stopped watching! I'm in the kitchen with two other guys and three babies. That was not cool at all.

He can feel her grin from here. It was kind of cool. ;)

No! Got babies to watch, Tony to entertain, and dinner to eat, and all I can think about is what's on this email.

That's the idea.

EVIL

Come on, you know you like it. :) 

Not saying I don't. (Really, not saying that at all!) But your timing sucks. You do not send something like that to three guys when we're together. Seriously, Jimmy's either icing himself down or jerking off in our bathroom, and I'm sure as hell not getting close enough to figure out which.

LOL

Breena here: He's what?

He's got his phone on him, go text him.

Okay

Abby again: What's Tony doing?

Grinning like a smug moron. Ziva just told him good stuff would be coming later. He didn't end up seeing anything too revealing because she seems to get how this works.

Okay, sorry. Next time Breena and I decide to make some smut for you guys, we'll make sure you're alone before sending it off.

Thank you. That's all I'm asking for. Wait… Again?

Well, we had fun doing it. Sounds like timing aside, you're enjoying it.

Oh fucking God YES! (sound of me whimpering for mercy and begging for more)

He can imagine how satisfied she's looking when she reads that. A second later he gets. J So, yeah, there'll be a next time.

When are you coming home?

Breena's wrapping up Ziva's pics, and I'm wrapping up the Photoshopping on them, so… call it another hour and a half?

Okay, see you then.

Good.

You're getting fucked through the wall when you get here. Putting Kelly to bed early, waiting for you naked and eager, and as soon as you're in the door I'm wrapping your legs around my waist, backing you into a wall and showing you exactly how hard you and Breena kissing makes me.

Good. Wanna feel you in me as soon as I get home.

He groans when he reads that, sees Tony staring at him, curious, and says, "Gibbs isn't the only one getting his ashes hauled."

Tony laughs at that.



An hour later, as he's feeding Kelly, after the guys left, Tim decides to look at the pictures and watch the video.

It's not like he's unfamiliar with sexual arousal or desire.

And it's not like he and Abby never play games or she never dresses up for him.

But it has been a while.

And this…

They're pin ups. No full nudity. Nothing that'd get more than a PG-13. But each costume has been picked to hit his buttons and her hair and makeup is carefully done for each of them. He can tell that in some of them she has to be wearing Breena or Ziva's stuff, because it's nothing like what she owns and it's a little too small on her, but that's oh so good, too.

Some of them are a little translucent so he gets glimpses of shadows of tattoos and nipples. And there's one where she's lying on the bed, on her stomach, propped on her elbows, wearing a red satin slip, reading one of his books, and her legs are spread almost far enough apart for him to get a glimpse of pussy, but just not quite far enough apart for it, and the slip is just tight enough and sheer enough that he can see the line between her buttocks, and fuck these shots are just killing him.

Kelly's complaining because he's not being properly attentive to getting the food into her mouth. So he shuts down the phone and tries to focus on baby wrangling.

Dinner for Kelly, bath time, because at seven months old she needs to be hosed down after all non-nursing meal, and then Goodnight Moon, lullabies, and sleep time.

Which puts him at twenty minutes until Abby's due home.

So he opens the video, and God, it hits him just as hard, if not harder, because he's not in the kitchen with two other guys, and this time there's sound.

They're kissing, petting each other gently, and Abby keeps playing with Breena's hair, and Breena's slowly stroking her hand up Abby's arm, and all that soft, wet, open-mouthed kissing, and both of them are breathing fast, with hard nipples that just barely graze over each other, and then Breena lightly strokes the backs of her knuckles over Abby's breast, and he knows that has to be what made Jimmy choke because an awfully similar sound rips out of him. And Abby pulls her closer, bodies pressed tight together, Breena sitting in her lap, and they just tongue fucked, there's no other term for it, Breena grinding on Abby's leg, as Abby sucks her tongue, and then after a few more seconds of that, they pull back, breathing hard, looking a little glazed, and Abby turns to the camera, winks and blows a kiss at him.

It takes a minute before he has enough control over his hands to turn the video off and hit the text screen.
On your way home?

A minute later he gets back. Yeah, at the stoplight at Tuner.

Just watched the video. Play a game with me tonight?

Always. What kind of game?

Gonna ravish you. His hands are shaking as he texts that, so he has to back up and delete a few times to get it right.

Ooooo!

Oh yeah. You wearing panties?

No.

Skirt?

Of course.

Find a place, stop, put some on. Gonna cut them off you.

I like the sound of this.

I really hope so. You wet?

I thought you said you saw the video. Of course I'm wet!

He groans at that. It wasn't just a show, she liked it, really liked it. Even better. Park so your door is next to the Highlander, say three feet away.

Okay. Mysterious.

This is what the step past gonna fuck you through the wall looks like.

Light's green. Home in 15.



Fifteen minutes. Either this is a really good plan, or it's a really bad one, but Janice did say that it helped if you were already leaning in that direction, and right now, he really is.

He heads up to his room, and finds the little tester bottle of... somehow he hadn't managed to notice the name before, but he does now, Satyr.

Why not?

He opens it up, and God, it reeks. Dirty goats. Dirty goats cats have peed on. Blech. And it's black. The color of old tar. He's hoping, as he puts the tiniest little drop of it he can manage on just one wrist (it leaves a mucky brown stain) that this works out.

He heads to his closet, looking for a belt. He wants everything about tonight to broadcast exactly how turned on he is, wants her to feel the power of it, and slowly stripping off a belt will help with that.

If he had button fly jeans, he'd put them on, too. The image of popping each button, hand moving slowly down the fly, the feel of his dick hard, pressing against the denim, straining to get free, strong in his mind.

He slips his belt through the loops on his jeans, feeling very turned on, very... cocky. And not so much in a can take on any challenge that comes his way sort of way, but in a literal, balls in charge, much more focused on his dick than he usually is, feeling like he's a walking hard-on sort of way.

He's also not smelling like dirty goats or cat pee. No, not those, just very male. Very, very male. He's feeling urgent, and insistent, forceful. He heads back to the vial and adds a bit more, upping the amount to what he usually puts on.

Yeah, very much not dirty goats. Horny as a goat. Randy goats looking to fuck anything that will let him. Wild-goat man with a huge, raging, throbbing erection, grabbing a barely dressed woman, dancing around a bonfire, wearing translucent wisps of fabric that flutter around her as she moves, carrying her off to ravish her under the full moon in some sort of ancient fertility ritual as she screams and begs in ecstasy, ripping her nails down his back as her legs wrap tight around his hips and her pussy quivers and clenches around him in shuddering orgasm after shuddering orgasm, as he plunges into her over and over and over… Yeah, that's definitely going on.

His pants are way too damn tight as he tucks his knife into his pocket, very much looking forward to cutting Abby's panties off and burying himself in her over and over and over as he squeezes his dick through his jeans… and if he doesn't stop that this is going to be done before she shows up.

So he stops, grabs the baby monitor, (Kelly usually sleeps right through, but he'll plug it into the wall socket, so they can hear if she wakes.) and heads outside to wait.



Abby does as directed. There's a gas station on the corner of Patterson and Grove, so she stops there, grabs the bag she had taken to Breena's, and changes into some panties. The idea of having them cut off again, because it's been a long time since they played that game, sending some very happy tingles all through her.
Getting home, she sees the porch light is off, and so are all the house lights. Which means once she turns her headlights off, their front yard, and more importantly the place she parks as per Tim's directions, is awfully dark. Moon's out, so it's not pitch black, but it's not well-lit, either. Probably a good plan, the neighbors don't need to see what's about to happen out here.

Perfect.

If it wasn't staged, it would set her danger sense off. As it is, there's this sense of heightened anticipation. She knows he's going to jump out from somewhere, but not when, not where, and not what (exactly) he's going to do when he does.

She doesn't see him as she pulls in. But it's dark, so she doesn't expect to. She knows that she won't see him until he wants her to.

She's expecting it, or something like it, yet it still takes her by surprise when less than a heartbeat after closing the door to her car he's materialized from somewhere, twists her to face him, and pushes her back against the door of the SUV.

His hands pin hers to the car, holding her wrists flush against cold metal. His legs are between hers, grinding his pelvis, cock, into her.

"Feel it? Feel how hard that video made me?" he says, voice low, hard, almost dangerous, each word feeling like a slow, wet lick over her clit.

"Yes."

He arches into her, grinding what feels like a just on the verge of coming hard-on against her, and she moans.

He lifts her hands over her head, pinning both of them in his right hand, just above her head, and reaches with his left into his pocket.

"Watch." She does, eyes wide, nodding, as he flicks open the blade, puts the knife on the hood of the car, yanks her skirt up, picks the knife up again, and very carefully slips the blade between her hip and the waistband once, twice, slitting it fast on both sides, tossing the knife aside, and pulling what was left of her panties off of her.

She watches him do it and breathes, "Fuck, Tim."

He's staring at her, eyes scalding hot. "Exactly. Keep watching."

He doesn't usually wear belts on the weekend, but he is now. He's taken just enough of a step back so she can watch him undo it.

Her hands pinned, cold winter air on her naked skin, his voice, and the sight of his left hand deliberately yanking off his belt, working the button on his fly, her eyes start to close as another moan slips through her lips.

"Keep your fucking eyes open! I want you to see it." He shoves his pants down around his thighs, pulling his cock out. She can feel it hot and hard against her hip for a second before he guides it into her in one fast, hard, balls-deep thrust that has both of them moaning.

"Fuck, Abby, feel that? Feel how hard it is?" He's grinding into her, rubbing his pelvis into her clit.

"God, yes!" He lets go of her wrists and pulls her up a few inches, wrapping her legs around his hips, thrusting into her relentlessly and making the car shake. "Tim, fuck!"

"Yes. Gonna fuck you so hard you tremble for a week." She's back against the car. He's using it and his weight to keep her up, as his hand settles into her hair, tightening into a fist at the base of her skull, keeping her looking into his eyes. "Gonna pump into you over and over, fill you up with me, and lick it off your quivering thighs when we get in the house." His other hand clenches on her hip, and she's straining against him, trying to get just a little more friction on her clit because she's so close and this is almost enough but not quite there.

"We get in there, you're going upstairs, and I'm going to tie you up, lick you all over, fuck you with the vibrator while I eat you out, and then more… Oh, God… fucking." His thrusting is getting erratic, losing its rhythm and she knows he's almost ready to come. "Gonna do it all night… Over and over… Long, slow fuck, do it until you're flushed and begging, until your legs won't hold you up anymore…" his words slur into a long groan as his body tightens and spasms, finishing off the first round in hard, wet pulses.

After a minute, he's still breathing fast, but let her put her legs down, and pulls back. Then he kisses her, soft and gentle, smiles, and says, "Good start?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Good." He quickly pulls up his pants, buttons them, not caring to redo the belt or zipper, and hoists her over his shoulder, fireman's carry style.

She squeaks in response. "Tim!"

His hand trace over her rear, slipping under her skirt, fingers brushing very lightly against her lips, getting wet with his cum, and slipping a little further back to circle her anus.

"Wasn't kidding, baby. All damn night!"

He planned it out, and left the front door a centimeter open, but none the less, it looks really impressive when he kicks the door open and carries her into their home.



He literally tosses her onto their bed. "Stay put."

She nods, very much enjoying being 'ravished.'

"Get naked." He's rummaging through their toy box looking for the ropes he wants as well as the right vibrator.

Abby quickly strips out of her clothing, tossing it away from the bed.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink? Go to the bathroom?"

She shakes her head.

"Good." He sets the vibrator on his nightstand and then kneels on the bed next to her. "You made me wait an hour and twenty seven minutes between seeing the first picture and slipping into you." He loops the first rope over her wrist, securely knotting it, and pressing gently on her chest to let her know to lie down on her back.

"That's a very long time to want something and not have it." He secures the knot to the bedpost.

She tries to look chagrined at that, but isn't doing a very good job of it. "Were you hard the whole time?"

"Yes. Saw you in those tiny blue panties and teddy and my dick got hard, all I could think about was how you'd feel wrapped around me." He loops the second rope around her left wrist, securing it to the bedpost as well.

"Seventeen minutes between watching that video all the way through and you getting home." He grabs her right ankle, pulling her toward the footboard, just enough force that it feels dangerous, not so much he might risk hurting her, and ties her leg down.

"Seventeen minutes where all I could think about was you and Breena making out. All I could see was your sweet mouth on hers." He grabs the left ankle, forcefully, too, spreading her wide, and tying her down.

He climbs onto their bed, reminding her very strongly of a big predator cat stalking its prey, about to leap. He leans over her, weight on his hands and knees, and gently sniffs along her throat, breasts, and pussy.
He licks her inner thigh. "I can smell me here. And you." He nuzzles his way back up her torso, licking and kissing her belly and breasts. He lays open mouth kisses across her collarbones and up her throat to her ear. "I can smell her, here." He licks her lips. "Taste her on you." Though he can't, not really, but he likes saying it. Likes imaging that he can. Wants to taste Breena on Abby.

She'd been grinding on Abby's leg, so he slides down again, licking and nibbling his way to her left leg, and begins to slowly kiss each inch of her thigh, sucking and ghosting his teeth along her white skin.

He catches a hint of a scent, flavor that isn't Abby and isn't him. He's not entirely sure if it's real or if he's imagining it, but either way, he thinks it's Breena's musk on Abby's skin, and it makes him growl, look up, make sure Abby's watching his eyes and then he gently bites her hip, followed by a long, sucking lick up her thigh, making sure to get every hint of Breena off of her.

He slides back up so he's face to face with Abby, kisses her, hard, tongue thrusting between her lips, reveling in fast, rough friction.

"Makes me feel crazy, tasting her on you, seeing you touch her. Makes me want to fuck you, so bad."

She moans at that, and he kisses her lips, taking her moan, echoing it back to her.

He pulls back a hair, kissing "Makes me so hard knowing her lips were here," to Abby. "Didn't just get off two minutes ago, smelling her on you, tasting her on you, I'd be rutting on your leg and leaking."

"Good." She smiles brightly at him.

He sits back on his heels and begins to slowly undress. He carefully pulls off his jacket, hanging it on the corner of the footboard.

"Tell me how it felt," he says as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. "All of it."

"She's so soft, Tim. Her skin and lips and hair, everything about her is soft or smooth as silk. And she's nursing, so her breasts are so full and ripe. Heavy in my hands, and warm, all of her is so warm."

He groans at those mental images/sensations.

"She was wearing that perfume Jimmy got her, smelling like rich, spicy peaches and vanilla dipped in honey. And she tastes sweet. Not food sweet, but… just sweet. I wanted to push her back on the bed and lick every inch of her."

Tim's jaw clenches and he groans at that, tossing his shirt toward the hamper. He stands up next to bed, popping the button his jeans, as she says, "She's a really good kisser, Tim."

That makes him groan, too, and a second later he's naked, on his hands and knees, leaning over her.
"Show me. Kiss me like she kissed you."

Abby lifts her head up some, so he lays down, so she doesn't have to strain her neck. Her lips find his, stroking gently over him. She doesn't open her mouth as quickly as usual, this is more lips and a bit less tongue than they usually do. She's keeping her touch light, resulting in very sharp, focused, almost but not quite ticklish strokes over his lips.

Eventually she does coax his tongue out, sucking it, soft, plump sucks that flood his mind with images of both Abby and Breena sucking his cock, just the tip, then she sucked a little harder while flicking the tip of her tongue along the tip of his, and he groans again.

"God, baby."

"Yeah! She's gold and pink all over."

He buries his face in Abby's neck, kissing her throat and collar bone.

"Kissing her feels like gold and pink. So femme and so soft and smooth and everything about her is so GIRL."

He shifts his weight to one arm, leaning on his side, kissing her chest, hovering over her breast for a moment, catching her eyes this okay? on his face. She nods.

He begins gently, slowly kissing her breast. He doesn't want to start her milk letdown, so no sucking, but he makes sure to cover every inch with kisses and gentle nibbles. She arches her back, looking for a bit more pressure. Been a long time since they've done this, and they've both missed it.

He takes his time, getting to know her breasts again, noticing that she does need a firmer touch than she did before, but he's a quick study so it doesn't take long to get his technique adjusted.

He reaches for the vibrator, feeling around for it for a few seconds before his hand gets it, then he starts with it on her nipple. He's licking the one, firm, focused touch, lightly buzzing the other.

That gets a pleased squeak out of Abby. And then a somewhat less pleased note as milk rushes out of her nipples. He leans back, smiles, licks her clean, and says, "So, not yet, huh?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet."

"Just have to find something else to lick." And he did. He kisses his way down her chest and abdomen, settling himself between her legs and kissing her properly.

He's not a huge fan of oral with a vibrator. He finds having his tongue buzzing distracting and doesn't much like the noise. So, it doesn't happen a lot. But Abby really likes it, so it does happen.

And he has to admit, he loves the visual of it. Loves watching himself play with her and the vibrator, loves seeing her flush and writhe as he gently strokes it over her skin, starting at her inner thighs and gently working his way closer and closer to where she wants it. He loves the way she arches up as he starts to ease it into her, loves the look of her body taking it in, soft, wet, glistening pink lips spreading wide around the expanse of bright blue plastic.

And more than that, more than all the visuals on earth, he loves bending his head, tasting her, hearing her gasp as he starts to suck her clit (mimicking the sucking and tongue flicking combo she'd kissed him with earlier) while rocking the vibrator in and out in firm, deliberate strokes.

Then there's the way she tries to grind into him. The strain of movement hampered by ties. She wants more, faster, but he's not doing it. He had to wait more than an hour to get off, and she's going to wait, too.

He turns the vibrator off, just using it as a dildo, and licks harder, slower. Barely any friction, just pressing and releasing as she arches against him, trying to get off.

He pulls back, each palm on her inner thighs, and looks up at her. "Frustrating, huh?"

She whimpers. "Please."

"Close your eyes," he says, "I want you to imagine something."

Her eyes close.

"Good girl." He delicately licks over her clit, making sure to keep his tongue pointed so that just his tongue touches her. He's shaved recently, but it's been a few hours, so he's also sure his mouth doesn't feel as soft or smooth as it should for this. "That's Breena, tasting you."

Abby sighs. He licks again, light, just wet tongue on wet clit.

"And she's seeing how sweet and yummy you are. How you're all ivory and pink and ebony." Another slow, dragging lick, and this time he draws the vibrator out before thrusting it back in hard, fast, and sliding it out slow again. "She'll be telling Jimmy about how soft you are, and how everything about you is so amazingly hot. How every curve and angle and flat made her feel all sexy and fluttery." More licking, in time with the vibrator. "She's going to tell him how wet you were, and how slick, and how everything about you just begged to be licked and how she just couldn't help it, she had to tie you down and lick you all over." Firm, hard, fast licks, just a few, just enough to make her tense, thighs quivering looking for release, and then he stops again. "She's going to tell him how she made you come. How you called out her name and screamed from the pleasure of her mouth." Back to slow, easy licks, forcing her back from the edge of getting off. Abby groans at that, she wants to come, now. "Then she's going to climb up you, straddle your face, and you're going to get her off." He stops licking all together and spends a few seconds just sucking her clit, drawing his lips over it, making sure the suction is firm but not bruising. Abby's hips thrash at that, trying to get some more friction to go with suction, but he holds firm, just sucking, and then turns the vibrator on low. "You're going to show her how to lick pussy. Show her every trick your brilliant tongue knows. And she'll be flushed and arching against you, so wet, so sweet, everything about her flushed pink, beautiful gold hair, golden skin, and you'll be burying yourself in her wet, pink pussy." Abby groans at that and what he's doing to her. Licking again, still soft, still slow, but he's angling the vibrator up with each stroke, rubbing it over her g-spot.

Her thighs are growing tight again, stomach pulled in, he doesn't look up, but he can imagine her hands are clenched and arms tight, so he stops breaking the action to talk and keeps licking, gradually increasing his speed and the speed on the vibrator.

She's moaning, no words, just low, deep, sounds of pure need.

He moves faster, keeping his touch firm, but speeding his tongue again, speeding the vibrator again, stroking it all the way in and all the way out as his tongue circles fast and hard. Her hips are jerking, fast, hard, looking for more, so he gives it to her, matching his speed to her, fucking her hard with the vibrator, licking as fast and hard as he can, and she tightens further, not moving for a heartbeat, and then her whole body jerks as she yells, orgasm racing through her.

His face is wet, slick, smells and tastes like sex and Abby, and his dick has certainly woken all the way back up.

Which means it's time for phase three. Or it will be. Giving her some time to catch her breath and relax is a good plan, so he scoots back up, cuddling her, and Abby turns into him, kissing him, soft, gentle, lazy.

She nibbles his lips, sighing lightly, eyes closed, and he very lightly strokes her nipples.

When she opens her eyes, grinning at him, he grins back. She licks his cheek. "I got you all wet."

He wipes his face and grins. "I like to think of it as I got you all wet."

She tries to reach for him, and notices her hands are still tied.

He grins at that, too. "Abigail, you up for more?"

She nods. "You're not trying to get out of your promise are you?"

"Just checking in, making sure we're good."

"I'm good. Hoping I'll be better in a bit."

That gets an evil smile out of him. "Oh, god, baby, trust me, you're going to be so much better."

"Good."

He unties her hands and legs, rubbing her wrists, letting her curl into a little ball and pull everything tight, then stretch herself back out.

"All good?"

"Yeah."

He's on his side, facing her, and pulls her to him. Side by side. Slow sex. Talking sex. Relaxed, easy, kissing, nibbling, her neck pillowed by his arm, her thigh over his hip. Gentle, rocking against one another, slow burn sex.

But eventually slow burn sparks hot, igniting everything around it. Eventually she's on her back and he's on top, moving hard, fast.

His time sense blurs, fades into wet, slick friction, hyper-awareness of the tension in her muscles, her heart-rate, and breathing, he kept easing both to the edge of orgasm, and then pulling back, just to take them higher after the pause.

There's a point where everything starts to unravel. Where the world falls away. Where sex becomes a sort of hypnotic meditation, slick, gliding sensation that shuts everything else out. That's where he loses his intentions, his plans, where his body takes over and brain shuts down, and there's just soaring through quivering pleasure and striving for faster, harder, more sensation. She's moaning, and begging, and maybe crying, and he might have been too, no idea, there's just the need for more, pushing himself and her as far as they can go before tipping over and edge that felt like it ate them alive, leaving both of them collapsed, breathing hard, buzzing all over with sparking nerves and sated bodies.

It takes a long time before either of them wants to move, but eventually Tim pulls away, and both of them get cleaned up and crash back into bed, elated and exhausted.

"Happy Valentines," he murmurs, her hair under his lips.

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

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