He was listening, or looking as if he was. Eye-contact, nodding, sounding as if he was taking it in. Then all at once he frowned and said:
She'd been midway through something and it took her a second or so to register. After another word or two she tailed pff, blinked, and looked at him.
He said nothing. Didn't need to. She'd heard.
Blushing, she lifted up the oversized shirt she was wearing and snuck a hand down into her panties. She was already a little wet - almost always was, now - so ine finger was easy. In it slide. She gasped quietly, breath hitching as she started working on a gentle rhythm.
"You were saying?" He asked.
Her eyes, half-closed, opened a little and fell on him again.
Took her brain a moment to figure that one out. He wanted her to keep talking. Or try to. What had she been saying? Finger working, she thought back.
He put his hand up between her legs, pressing it on hers, making her finger push in. She gasped.
"Go on. It was very interesting. Keep going."
His other hand had gone to her waist to keep her steady as he pressed his palm up harder into her. Her brain fizzled, her mouth hung open.
A thin string of drool started to stretch from her lip as she panted wordlessly, humping gently against her hand and against his. He tutted, shook his head.
"Mustn't have been that important," he said, the hand from her waist moving up so he could feed a thumb into her open mouth. Given the contented hum she made and the way her eyes closed, he doubted she'd heard him.
Not that it really mattered either way.
baratheonpilled
amandla
andulkaphoto
2087
theartofmadeline
