Jean's grin did not abate, as sharp as it ever was. "I have never claimed to be kind, passerota," he reminded her. "I am a very bad man, you will recall." In truth, he had never met his most recent neighbors. He was fairly certain that at least one home had been inherited by someone with no intention of living there. There were people in the other, sometimes, but no one particularly interesting. His bedroom was well-insulated, besides; he had considered it an important part of its construction.
Screams could only barely be heard in the shop, even if they were particularly loud, as long as his bedroom door was shut.
Her hips moved away from his on an upward thrust, enough that his cock was no longer inside her, only barely touching her skin instead. Perhaps he should not have been surprised, when he'd given her satisfaction already, that she was in no hurry to achieve it again. When she was in control, it seemed her preference was to take it slow -- slow and long and languorous, for so long as she could bear it.
It was nonetheless not exactly torturous to have a beautiful woman on top of him, admiring his appearance. He did so adore to be admired, after all, as much a pleasure as many other things. So long as she was enjoying herself, her pleasure continued to be honey on his tongue, if not quite so thick as it might otherwise have been.
"How gracious of you," he said, "to be considerate of my delicate nature." He fluttered his eyelashes playfully for the briefest of moments, before returning to his well-practiced dignity. "Mais, Signorina," he said, "I hear the laughter in your heart, even if it does not leave your throat. My ears are as sharp as the rest of me, you see." Not quite accurate, since he would sense her amusement as he absorbed it, but that did not quite suit the current metaphor so well. Even he was not so wicked as to bring mixed metaphors into the bedroom.
"You are right, of course," he said, because he would always tell her she was right if only for the sake of ease. There were circumstances when he might correct a lover, but these were not they. "This is a very serious situation," he said, though he was pretending to be pinned to the bed by a smaller woman while possessed of a neglected erection. "We must give it the dignity it deserves, oui?" He practically purred as her teeth ghosted over his skin, his hands still kept to himself until such a time as she requested his touch.
Screams could only barely be heard in the shop, even if they were particularly loud, as long as his bedroom door was shut.
Her hips moved away from his on an upward thrust, enough that his cock was no longer inside her, only barely touching her skin instead. Perhaps he should not have been surprised, when he'd given her satisfaction already, that she was in no hurry to achieve it again. When she was in control, it seemed her preference was to take it slow -- slow and long and languorous, for so long as she could bear it.
It was nonetheless not exactly torturous to have a beautiful woman on top of him, admiring his appearance. He did so adore to be admired, after all, as much a pleasure as many other things. So long as she was enjoying herself, her pleasure continued to be honey on his tongue, if not quite so thick as it might otherwise have been.
"How gracious of you," he said, "to be considerate of my delicate nature." He fluttered his eyelashes playfully for the briefest of moments, before returning to his well-practiced dignity. "Mais, Signorina," he said, "I hear the laughter in your heart, even if it does not leave your throat. My ears are as sharp as the rest of me, you see." Not quite accurate, since he would sense her amusement as he absorbed it, but that did not quite suit the current metaphor so well. Even he was not so wicked as to bring mixed metaphors into the bedroom.
"You are right, of course," he said, because he would always tell her she was right if only for the sake of ease. There were circumstances when he might correct a lover, but these were not they. "This is a very serious situation," he said, though he was pretending to be pinned to the bed by a smaller woman while possessed of a neglected erection. "We must give it the dignity it deserves, oui?" He practically purred as her teeth ghosted over his skin, his hands still kept to himself until such a time as she requested his touch.
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Coffee Break [Closed] - by tindome - 11-22-2014, 08:15 AM
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Coffee Break [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 03-02-2015, 11:07 PM
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Coffee Break [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 05-28-2015, 12:09 AM
Coffee Break [Closed] - by tindome - 06-07-2015, 06:07 AM
Coffee Break [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 06-21-2015, 01:42 AM
Coffee Break [Closed] - by tindome - 06-23-2015, 06:51 PM
Coffee Break [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 06-23-2015, 11:07 PM
Coffee Break [Closed] - by tindome - 08-06-2015, 02:22 PM
Coffee Break [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 08-13-2015, 05:04 PM
RE: Coffee Break [Closed] - by Tindome - 11-25-2015, 05:24 PM
RE: Coffee Break [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 12-05-2015, 08:44 PM
RE: Coffee Break [Closed] - by Tindome - 06-07-2016, 02:49 AM