Silent Weeks Sequel Pt. 02

She straightened her fingers but slid her middle finder under the overlap, and finished breaking the tie as her hand move away from her hip.

The corner folded over.

Oh, god.

That naked expanse.

Was I fidgeting? I hoped I wasn't fidgeting.

I could feel my heartbeat in several places.

She pulled the other string, and then raised herself onto tip toes for just a moment.

Was I still holding my dick?

Shit.

I was.

I needed to do something with it. This was a torture, but god dammit, I was a masochist for it.

That subdued, startled impulse shot through me as she stepped forward and reached both hands towards my waistband.

What now?

She found my tie, pulled it apart, then looked into my eyes, and the lips of that little grin parted.

"Do what you gotta do, dude."

Did I just have an auditory hallucination?

My brain was on the verge of collapse.

She stepped back into her original pose, and began lightly stroking that naked expanse with one hand and a breast and nipple with the other.

My restraint broke.

It was almost painful to push my trunks down over my dick, but I stepped out of them and proceeded to spread around the significant accumulation of precum already trailing down my tip.

Not sure if I'd actually need it, this time, but I added saliva to the mix, and went to work.

I can't do this well while standing.

I dropped down and turned 90 degrees to lean against the foot of the bed while I sat.

She actually moved to place herself directly in front of me again, but quite frankly, I wasn't really able to focus on anything but my own sensations.

My heavy breaths were audible, and I let out a cry as I finally fired off, with no regard for the carpet.

Each subsequent surge shook me until I reached the pause of completion. I froze all movement for a few seconds, and then relished in the aftershocks as I slowly massaged.

I opened my eyes the see her happily watching.

So fucking beautiful.

The world was mine.

I looked at the mess I made, and cared about it a lot less than I thought I would. I noticed that I even got some on her shin, but she either didn't realize it or didn't care. Or possibly liked it there. I wasn't going to worry too much about it.

I sat catching my breath, holding my diminished, dripping mass, and just stared into her eyes.

After a moment, the fingers lightly stroking that naked expanse suddenly disappeared from my peripheral. I looked down to see them hidden behind the folded fabric.

Oh, yes.

Her hand, and the repeated movement, pushed the remaining corners a bit further apart, causing the material to drop just a little further. She gave me a moment to appreciate that before the finger on her breast slid down and put an end to that last tenuous connection.

The hopeless material fell to the floor, between her feet, leaving only her hand as the final guardian.

The free hand journeyed to various regions, exploring hills and valleys and the great plains.

Oh, so gracefully, she lowered herself to her knees, and the sat leaning against the wall. Her hips no longer vertical, this new angle allowed me to see a little more.

Evidence of the crack of her ass.

A repeated peek at the lower corner of her hidden lips.

I began absent-mindedly gently working myself again, very slowly.

I met her eyes, wanting to see if there was any change in her demeanor, but so far, she maintained her composure. I looked back down.

Her middle finger suddenly disappeared, and then reappeared. Another sweep up and down, and then it disappeared again, for slightly longer, before reappearing.

What an indecisive finger.

I looked to her face once more. There was a slight change.

I returned my attention below. The guardian was becoming careless. Perhaps a distraction was in order.

"Have you ever squirt," I asked, in a tone that perhaps betrayed my intentions.

"No."

"Well." I met her gaze, once more. "Someday, I'm going to make your squirt."

Not 'I want to'.

'I will.'

This presented a challenge to her. How would she respond while sitting across from me?

The guardian temporarily abandoned its position and helped her blow a kiss at me, and then it returned before I had time to see anything that had been bared before me.

Well played.

"I don't care how long it takes. Whether it's tomorrow or years from now, one day I will swim in a heated pool of your cum."

A sudden exhale heralded another change in her face.

Vulnerability.

I looked down to see increased speed.

Her eyes again.

"Every aspect of you is beautiful. Body, heart, and soul. And I want to surround myself in each one."

Her eyes momentarily closed, and her breathing became slightly more erratic.

I stopped caring about what was hidden by her hand. The real prize was hidden behind less tangible barriers.

I eased onto my hands and knees, never taking my eyes from hers, and she held the gaze as best she could.

I crawled closer. Stalking her vulnerability.

"I want to know your thoughts. I want your heartbeat to be my measure of the passage of time."

I eased up beside her, as close as I could, but careful not to touch.

Trying to look at me was an act of futility. She was losing focus on me, and putting it elsewhere.

"I will to taste every inch of you. Every surface. Every curve. Every tip. Every crevice. You will know my tongue better than you know your own."

Her head began sliding further down, and a hand raised to push against the wall, helping shift her body into a laying position. I kept my head level with hers, to continue speaking deeply near her ear.

"I want to know you inside and out. To plunge into your depths. To feel every embrace you have to offer."

Oh, the sounds she made.

"You will erupt in every way. Your breath. Your voice. You will be a magnificent wellspring. Your beauty will exceed every star in the sky."

Almost there.

"You're the best music this universe has to offer, and I will always be there to listen."

And so she sang.

She vibrated.

She glowed.

Once she regained some control, she breathed out another reward for me.

"Oh, my god."

"Someday, I will raise that bar," I promised.

She turned her face, grabbed the back of my head, and planted a good one right on my lips.

Once parted, I licked her forehead.

Salty.

She laughed.

"I believe I will run a warm bath for us," I said.

"That would be perfect." That smile. "I think I'm laying in your cum." Okay, THAT smile.

I stood, glancing at her hips, as I turned. Her hand still coddled her groin.

Good. Still not the right time.

In the bathroom, I stopped the drain and turned on the hot tap, then eventually the cold to prevent it from scalding us. I didn't have any bubble bath soap, so I poured in some shampoo, which was bubbly enough. Set out a bath cloth.

"Go ahead and get in," she called out from the bedroom.

Interesting.

"Okay," I confirmed.

From in the tub, I turned off the water. It was just the right temperature. Hot, but not dangerous.

She appeared in the doorway. In all her glory. All her... shaven glory. I think my mouth did, indeed, fall open slightly.

Now, here's the problem. The next thing I would say is that she walked towards the tub, but she did not just walk. She performed a subtle, slow, strut that melted my brain too much to process, so I'm at a loss to illustrate it.

I left a little less room for her in the water.

You know... relatively speaking, a little less.

When she reached the tub, she lifted a leg over. Slowly. Facing me. Yes, I was practically eye level with it.

There was no question about it. She was absolutely presenting herself.

In a continued motion, her foot lowered to the water, where she paused to test the temperature with her toe. One leg was briefly held up, and she was, shall we say... post bloom.

She plunged her foot, carefully shifted her weight, and then slowly lifted the other foot over and in, before finally dropping down into a sitting position, submerging all of that glory beneath a layer of bubbles.

"Fuckin' hell," I drew out quietly.

"Mind if I lean back against you?"

"I don't think you'll be able to, right now."

She smiled. "I can wait." She then took the bath cloth and began washing herself.

Don't stare at her tits.

Fortunately, the water being as hot as it was made maintaining an unintentional erection difficult, so it calmed down after a few minutes.

"I'll wash your back," I offered. She handed me the cloth and turned around. I very happily washed her... bare back.

Come on. Keep it together, man. Get out of that head space. You'll have ample opportunities to appreciate her body in the future.

I eased backward to lay, as comfortably as I could manage, against the wall of the foot of the tub, extended my legs on either side of her, grabbed her waist, and dragged her backwards snug against me.

Against my... NO! Stay out of that head space.

"Oh, my," she teased.

Out!

We spent some time taking turns, casually moving the cloth over each other's available surfaces.

We spent some time just sitting still; relaxing.

After a while, she scooted forward and turned the hot water on. I used the opportunity to trace her spine with my toe. Down the side of her ribcage, causing her to twitch with the tickle.

She let out a little chuckle.

When the water was to her satisfaction, she eased back into me, again. I welcomed her into my arms and wrapped them around her in a hug.

We relaxed, and my fingers moved over her abdomen, in a general upward direction, eventually communicating my intent.

Soon I brushed against the underside of her breasts. Outer edges. Inner edges. Closer to center. Closer. And then they were in my hands.

A perfect fit, as far as I was concerned. I squeezed gently and playfully.

Yeah, this was me-time, now.

"I'm probably going to be doing this a lot, in the future. Just so you know," I warned, in good humor.

"Okay."

"Because titties," I added.

She chuckled.

"I like titties."

"So it seems."

"Especially these. These are my favorite."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Just the right size. Just the right shape. And as a bonus, they're attached to you."

She hummed an acknowledgement.

"That there's what you call titties with benefits."

She reached for the back of my head, turned hers, and gave me a sweet kiss, before raising both arms to stretch.

"The deluxe package," I added.

Speaking of a deluxe package.... My 'third leg' began taking issue with her tailbone.

"Speaking of a deluxe package..."

Oh, my god, she's reading my thoughts, I joked to myself. But, yeah, that was pretty cool.

"Yeeaaah, that happens a lot around you. Not sure why. So weird," I teased.

"Heh heh."

I was keeping it humorous out of necessity. Tonight was not the night for anything more. It was already a beautiful portrait.

I rested my hands on the crevice made where our legs touched, and I let us relax in silence for a while.

"When I put that shirt in your bag," I eventually said, "I was hoping you might wear it as a dress, but you exceeded my hopes when you chose it as a night shirt. I loved that so much."

"It's an awesome night shirt."

"It's yours now. It can serve no greater purpose to me."

She pickup my right hand and placed it on her heart. Just held it there.

After more time passed, she broke the silence.

"We should probably get out." Neither of us moved.

"Yeah." Neither of us moved.

"We seem to lack motivation," she observed.

"Definitely."

"Sleep?"

"Meh."

"Food?"

"I could be convinced."

"Stare at my ass as I get out of the tub?"

"Hell, yeah," I said, abruptly. I immediately moved my arm out of her way, and gripped the edges of the tub, in preparation.

She giggled.

"Don't mind me. Take your time," I added.

A thin veil of bubbles lowered as she rose, down her surface, and dripping from her lips. With legs kept straight, she bent over to unplug the drain.

I may have audibly groaned.

After turning the water back on for a shower rinse, she stood. I watched as the water level dropped, eventually revealing my fresh erection.

Maybe I can manage a quick rub out, because damn.

I had to switch methods, since I could not rely on slipperiness. Had to fast and furious this bad boy, which was not ideal, but fine in a pinch.

Doing my best to ignore the spatter of water on my face, it took about a minute to fire one off, and then after a brief recovery, I stood and rinsed off with her, giving her a quick hug from behind.

Out, dried, and back in the bedroom, I looked at the mess on the floor.

"I guess I better clean that up."

"I'll fix some food," she offered, putting on the nightshirt.

I pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and gathered the appropriate cleaning supplies.

About fifteen minutes later, I joined her in the kitchen.

"I may need to buy a tarp," I said, casually.

She smiled.

I was brainstorming scenarios and locations where she could squirt to her heart's content without creating a problem.

An actual tarp was a joke idea, but it had to be someplace comfortable for her, both physically and psychologically.

She has that naked in a lush field fantasy. Maybe a blanket in a pasture or something. One of the properties I've worked, or the land she lives on. They might be lush when summer rolls around.

Maybe a rubber sheet. I was not too concerned about the cloth sheets, but the mattress was another matter.

Just laying down a towel or two seemed too... outwardly intentional. I wanted it to be as informal as possible. I didn't want her to feel at all expected to produce results.

So far, the rubber sheet idea sounded best, but I had no idea where to get one, or any equivalent.

Oh, well. That's a problem for later. Now, we eat.

We took turns taking dumps. She was in with the door closed. I stood to the side, turned the knob, and gave the door enough of a push to let is slowly open all the way, while I remained unseen.

No response.

I leaned over almost 90 degrees and then eased my head past the frame, pretending to sneak a peek.

She, equally playfully, squeezed her eyes shut, gave the biggest grin she could muster, and then waved at me.

A pair of panties around her ankles would have been perfect, but maybe someday.

I then gave a comical performance of lowering to the ground and trying to pull the door shut from the bottom, in a failing attempt to not be seen.

She quietly giggled.

After "quietly" shutting the door, I went back the the sofa with a self-satisfied grin.

She joined me, later, and we spent time showing each other videos on our phones, exposing each other to new things in general, and new music in particular.

Eventually, we were lounging along the length of the sofa, with her laying on her back, on top of me. We were watching a video for a somewhat sexy, romantic song, and I had a nice view of her thinly covered breasts.

Must. Grab.

In a lower tone, I spoke quietly, "Make the next song a long one, because you're going to have rest the phone against your legs, so you can put your arms back around my neck, so I can hold those amazing breasts, again, and I want to have plenty of time to really enjoy it."

She offered no response, but when that video ended, she chose another, drew up her legs, leaned the phone against them, interlaced her fingers at the back of my neck, and did a settling-in wiggle.

I slid my hands up her ribs and enjoyed the pliable firmness of those delightful mounds. It wasn't long before they developed some extra rigidity at the tops, not to mention altitude.

I developed a little rigidity of my own, but I ignored it.

I massaged and squeezed them. I hugged her to feel them against my arms.

"If you ever don't want me doing this, please let me know. I don't want you to ever feel obligated," I said, quietly.

"I doubt it will be an issue," she offered, in a relaxed voice.

I kissed her head in gratitude. We both enjoyed being enjoyed by each other.

The video ended, and she unlaced her fingers, as if she were going to attend to it, but she caught herself, she hooked one hand around the back of my neck, and stroked through my hair with her other.

"You gonna pick another song," I asked.

"I don't think my fingers should be down there, right now."

I slid one hand down, across her belly, then brought the phone up.

She rubbed her legs together once, and the tautly-pulled shirt moved to reveal just a little bit.

I started searching for a new song, but she interrupted.

"No."

Curious, I set the phone on the coffee table.

"What would you like me to do," I asked slowly, and softly.

"I've recently wondered what it would be like to be teased to the edge of my ability to refrain. I'm curious how long I can hold out before I simply can't resist touching myself."

I'm intrigued, and completely on board.

"I may be able to help with that."

"You may."

Challenge accepted.

So, the rules are as follows:

1. She may not self stimulate by any means other than her own fingers.

I maneuvered one leg to straighten her same leg, and then hooked over it with my foot to pin it in place. Her other knee, I pinned against the back of the sofa with my own of that same leg. She let a tiny moan of surprise.

Now she would not be able to rub her legs together, plus she was spread open and exposed.

2.Her hands shall remain unbound at all times.

The test of will is not valid without the freedom to fail.

3. I must not touch her pussy.

This may end up being a test of my will, as well.

My fingers moved over her, but this time with delicate intent. Tracing ribs. Circling her belly button. Her stomach occasionally vibrating from a tickle.

Up her arms. Her neck. Her face. Her ears.

Down to her thighs, inside and out, as far as I could reach.

Her legs began weak moments of resistance against mine. She began making noises.

I eased the hem of the shirt up. One inch. Another inch. The expanse was naked again and ripe for exploration.

The first light shutter of both her breath and body was superb.

I exposed more of her, and there was her belly button, begging me to tease its edge.

Further up until the material was bunched against the underside of her breasts.

I retraced her ribs. Ran the backs of my fingernails down. The tips of them lightly scraping back up.

My thumbs ducked under the shirt, and continued up her sides, drawing near her armpits, but it was not time for them, yet.

The material hooked, I slowly exposed her breasts, stroking side to side along the curve, up to the edge of her areola still concealed.

Her erect nipples offered resistance to my progress, but with a little extra force, I overwhelmed them, and the burst of release revealed them.

I took a moment to transfer some saliva to the tips of my index fingers, and then very carefully dabbed it onto the highest point of those peaks, before gently blowing a cool breeze over them.

A soft vocal wince. Her hand, in my hair, clutched.

I spread the liquid around and down, and then another quick breeze before gripping, and a bit of pinching and rolling.

The shirt turned inside out as the hem continued up and over her face. I exposed her mouth and nose, but left it there, because now was the time for armpits.

She twitched at the edges. A brief, shuddered whine. The hand on my neck pulled.

A stroke up the middle before raising my hips, forcing hers into the air, and my hands made a b-line for that expanse, once more, granting me a gasp.

Fingers over the delicate skin at the bend of the hips.

An impulse shot through her, hips attempted to shoot downward, but my own body would not allow it.

So very near the forbidden zone, her body, breath, and voice struggled, on the verge of begging for a mercy that only she could grant.