Heart In A Cage

37

Andreas

Despite being on the verge of surrendering to exhaustion, she slowly gets on all fours. She moves over to me, and I put on my best performance of a tranquil and unbothered male as she reaches closer, naked and fuckable.

"Come on, beautiful. Turn around, seat yourself on my lap, and keep your head against my chest." She climbs onto me and rests between my legs. It appears some of her bratty behaviour has died out. "Good girl. I love it when you're obedient."

I separate her legs and observe her wet cunt from above her. A brief glance at her hand and then I'm resting it over my palm, admiring the black acrylics and hints of silver shining on their lustrous surfaces. My thumb brushes over her fingers, then past her nails. "Look at these, so pretty and clean." Perfect adornments for a perfect lady. I sweep my thumb over them once more, and give her hand a swift kiss. "My apologies, baby, but I need you to get them dirty. Pleasure yourself. Two fingers."

Her eyebrows furrow, and she fusses beneath me.

"What's the matter?" I ask. She pulls my hand downwards, insisting I follow the order assigned to her, and looks up at me with displeased eyes. "I see. You've decided, now that you're not getting what you want, you'll end the obedient act and begin on whining. Drop the attitude, my sweet girl, and then you might find being well-behaved will reward you."

"But—" Her head drops, and I gently massage her thighs, fondling with what's mine. "Why can't you do it?" she asks, a hand hovering between her legs, a film of hesitance over her gentle voice. I grip her thighs harder. Her fingers drop with the wordless order.

I watch diligently, humming as she moves around her clit, slowly rotating her fingers and using an unoccupied hand to clasp my forearm. Comforting herself. For my own amusement, I lightly tug at her hair and earn small pained moans.

"Fuck that hole of yours. Come on, get yourself ready for me."

Her fingers travel down from her clit and cross down her centre. The first bolt of excitement shoots up my cock as she pushes them inside. Our time together has lasted for weeks, for weeks of working and pleasuring, and not once have I stumbled across an experience where she touches herself lounged between my legs. The thought of her masturbating beneath our blanket intensifies my erection―how many times has she played with herself without my notice?

I groan watching her, at the whimpers as she picks up the pace. She's slipped down enough that her lower back can feel my hardness, and her hair is fanned out over my chest, flowy and vibrant.

"Another one," I order.

Reluctantly, she enters a third finger, hips orbiting.

Those quietly high noises, made from inside her throat—I want to gobble them up with a slow kiss, and I'd do so unashamedly if I had her facing me. I control the adrenaline coursing through my arms and legs and every muscle that encourages me to fuck her immediately. Luckily, I have patience, and don't fuck her immediately.

Instead, I sneak two fingers beneath her working arm and circle them at her clit. She shifts her upper body to the side and glances up at me, eyes narrowed in pleasure and teeth fastening her bottom lip. Her chest shudders, breathing sharpening as she fucks herself. This observation of her is the destruction of my sanity.

"Shit..." I curse under my breath. "Pass me your hand." I present my hand before her, and she follows by putting her own atop it, the one that was clasping my forearm. I chuckle and take her other, and her fingers are forced out of her. She gives me a look of disapproval as I terminate her fun entirely by seizing both her wrists and crossing them over herself, tying them against her waist. "You're not as well behaved as I had anticipated."