Temporary Secretary

Part 15

The same thing I said last time. Distinct masculine fervent desire for him in that sweater (at 0:10, but all the fits are bitching). What a magnificent MILF!

1 January 1981

Thursday 9:00am

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Paul's face was very cute, if that was the right thing to call it.

Though you threw around "beautiful", "lovely", and even "pretty" fairly often, you weren't sure how he'd take to being called "cute".

But he was at the moment, in any case.

Paul's cheeks were flushed, his lips parted as he gasped and shuddered, his eyes well shut.

He bowed his head, breaths coming ragged. Paul wet his lips, sucking in a breath as he changed the angle.

Though Paul's skin was damp, it cooled to the temperature of the room. The cottage insulated heat well, but Paul would likely have to get a fire going once the... activity concluded. While he was on that, you'd get a breakfast started.

You reached a hand up to his face, gently stroking the curve of his cheek, then letting it rest in your palm.

Though he didn't open his eyes, a sweet, yet silly smile grew on his face, still open as he took short breaths. Paul leant into it some, his pace not faltering.

"Oh-"

You smiled up at him. You'd gotten used to this much. Paul would often wake up hard the nights you were with him, and ready to go. As Paul had claimed, it was subconscious, due to sleeping with your "feminine scent" and "soft body" pressed against him, he couldn't help it. It wasn't as if he did so every morning, as if he were still a kid.

Paul seemed to very much be, but you were never a morning person. Still, it was surely a welcome activity to fully wake you in the mornings.

You gripped at the sheet beside you. It was chilly, the fire having burnt out sometime during the night, but your body felt damp from the activity, and it was warm under the thick duvet and winter blankets. You tugged at it. The friction was swift and consistent. You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again.

"____"

You didn't like the teasing tone in which Paul crooned down your name. Suppose this sis what you got for letting him take the lead more routinely now, a more equal split, compared to before anyway. Paul was so awfully smug about it too.

You reached up to the side of his neck, and Paul's eyes blinked above his stupid scrunched smile.

You pulled him lower, which Paul happily went along with, then you began to toy with the sensitive shell of his ear. Paul groaned, his thrusts coming shakier.

You reached a hand lower, between where Paul was fucking you. Paul's eyes followed it in curiosity, but then squeezed shut when he felt the sensation, his mouth stretching open in bliss.

You were running a finger slowly and teasingly light from the base of his prick, down his perineal raphe, slowly back and forth, as he fucked you. The extra sensation seemed to be too much.

"God—I'm-"

Paul's breath cut off, he bit his lip in a shaky moan.

Your grip on his cheek became firmer, curling around the back of his head, a firm grip on his hair.