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Jean was left tongue-tied the first time he met you, flustered because of your pretty eyes and pretty smile. He was barely able to sputter out a compliment back then, and he was lucky that you found it more endearing than awkward.
It’s been years since then, but you still have ways of leaving him absolutely speechless.
He’s sitting on the end of the bed in the dark when you call out to him from the doorway, his name rolling off your tongue, soft and sweet in that way that always makes heart beat a little faster. Honey-colored eyes glance at you briefly as he fumbles with the cuff of his sleeve, humming.
Your lips twitch as he freezes, his gaze snapping back to you just as quickly as it left. Jean’s lips part. His jaw drops. Satisfaction bubbles in your chest as his mouth moves soundlessly for a moment. The words stick in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, and he swallows, eyes wandering shamelessly over your figure.
You’re a silhouette against the light spilling in from the hallway, your features shadowed and soft, though he can still faintly make out the upturned curve of your lips. That smile of your is ingrained so deeply in his memory that even the darkness couldn’t take it from him. Backlit like this, your curves stand out beneath the sheer fabric of the babydoll you’re wearing. The hem sways against your thighs as you shift your weight, the fabric dancing around you, soft and loose.
It’s pale pink and pretty, and it’s split down the front teasingly, tied shut beneath your breasts in a perfect bow that his fingers itch to unravel, but you’re just out of reach. The long ends dangle against your torso, tickling your bare stomach and thighs, just as soft and sheer as the rest of the lingerie.
The smile on your lips is sweet, almost innocent as step away from the door, leaving it open behind you. Unable to take his eyes off you, Jean’s gaze follows the subtle sway of your hips as you cross the room, drinking you in. He swallows again, hands falling onto his lap as he forgets what he was trying to do.
“What do you think?” you ask once you’re standing between his spread legs, trying not to laugh at his wide-eyed look. Your fingertips brush against the tops of his legs, so light that he can barely feel you through the fabric of his pants.
Somehow, you look even better up close. Maybe it’s the teasing glint in your eyes, or the amusement splayed across your pretty face. Or, he thinks, long fingers flirting with the hem of the babydoll, maybe it’s just the way you bite your lip like you want him to ruin you.
You sigh as his fingers graze your skin, trailing up the length of your legs with slow precision.
The panties match, he realizes belatedly, as his big hands grasp your thighs under the sheer fabric pooling around his wrists. Jean nudges your legs further apart. One of your hands settles on his shoulder for balance, and you let out the sweetest sound when his thumb rubs against the front of your underwear.
He strokes your slit through the fabric, surprised to find it already damp with your arousal.
Jean’s eyes rise to meet yours, his head tilting back to look at you. The shock in his expression melts away, but the awe never does. “Beautiful,” he says, barely audible as he looks at you in absolute wonder.
Your lips twitch.
You catch him off-guard for a second time as you lean in. Your knee presses against the mattress beside his leg. Jean grabs you by the hips as you crawl onto the edge of the bed and straddle him. One of your arms winds loosely around the back of his neck, draping over his shoulder, and he nearly groans as your fingers slip into his hair. With your free hand, you run your knuckles against his sharp jawline. The stubble there tickles you, and you giggle as Jean tugs you against his chest and gropes your ass.
“Minx,” he calls you, the word muffled against your lips as you kiss him. A strong arm wraps around your lower back, pressing you tight to his front. You smile against his mouth, leaning back before he can deepen the kiss. Jean huffs, chasing your lips and yanking you closer before you can leave him entirely.
And you let him steal another kiss, his mouth moving against yours slowly, drinking you in. His palm burns into the small of your back, steady and grounding as he leans into you. Your back bows beneath his weight, your fingers tugging at his hair, and he sighs into your mouth as your fingertips caress his cheek. Parting your lips, your tongue teases his bottom lip before you take it between your teeth, biting down just to hear him groan.
Jean grunts as you shove him onto his back.
He blinks up at you with wide eyes, his mouth falling open, lips swollen from your teasing. You barely give him a second to breathe as you brace your hands on his broad chest and roll your hips against his, grinding against his covered cock.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he chokes out, big hands grabbing your thighs as you rock against him, picking up a slow rhythm. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” He’s supposed to be the one taking care of you tonight. At least, that’s what the plan was in his head. Though, he’s finding it hard to complain when your fingers are already popping open the button of his pants.
Instead of answering him, you lean down, resting more of your weight on his hips. Still balanced with one hand on his chest, your palm pressed against his heavy beating heart, you let your lips graze the underside of his chin. Any protests he had die on his tongue as your mouth wanders over his jaw, sweet butterfly kisses left in your wake. It’s a complete contrast to your grinding hips and the naughty fingers teasing him through his underwear.
You’ve hardly touched him yet and he’s already hard, pangs of arousal making his cock twitch as you stroke him slowly.
Lipstick stains are left scattered across his cheek as you work your way along his jaw, kissing and nipping at him as his breathing gets heavier. Little grunts and gasps are breathed into your ear as you palm him, and you drag a low moan from Jean when you latch onto that sweet spot just below his ear. By now, his eyes are squeezed shut. He’s completely lost in you, your soft lips and teasing touch.
“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Jean?” you ask him, speaking against his skin. His eyes snap open. There’s a coy little smile curled on your lips when you lean back on his hips, sitting there like you weren’t just grinding on his cock.
It knocks the breath out of him. “Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth. The vice grip he has on your thighs loosens, and you giggle as he rakes his fingers through his tussled hair. “You can’t just say shit like that, baby.”
You roll your hips against his again, swirling them just right, and his eyes flutter shut as you rub your palm against the bulge in his pants before pulling away. Jean tightens his grip on your leg, as your fingers tease his abdomen, deftly popping open the buttons on his shirt one at a time. He jolts as you drag your finger down his stomach, your nail lightly scratching his skin.
“Do you want me to stop?”
The way his hands grasp your hips almost desperately is answer enough.
Your wet your lips. “Let me make you feel good.”
The soft, sheer fabric draped around your frame flutters against your skin. The long tails of that pretty bow graze his now bare stomach, and his abdominal muscles clench at the feeling. Your fingers follow the fine line of hair beneath his navel, dipping back beneath his pants. His breath hitches.
You lean over him again, waiting until he opens his eyes to ask, “Where do you want me?” Your hand slips into his underwear, and he groans as your fingers wrap around his dick, your hand small and cool against his shaft. Jean doesn’t answer. He can barely think, let alone speak as you thumb his head, spreading the pre-cum beading there. “Do you want me to suck your cock, Jean?”
The image of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock makes him even harder in your hand, but he shakes his head. His grip on your hips is borderline bruising, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. “I want you to ride me, pretty girl,” he tells you. Tonight, he wants to feel your slick walls squeezing around him, watch you tremble as you fall apart for him. Jean wets his lips as you pull his cock from his pants, shoving the fabric low on his hips. “Please,” he murmurs.
Your eyes never leave Jean’s as you shift on his lap. As you rise onto your knees, his hands stroke your sides soothingly, trailing from your waist to your hips, and lower, disappearing between your thighs. You nearly sigh his name as knuckles rub against your panties. They catch on your clit, and you mewl for him, making his eyes light up.
Two of his fingers slip beneath your underwear, skimming through your slick lips until he finds that swollen bundle of nerves that makes your thighs shake. You make the prettiest sound for him, your hips rolling into his hand. Jean’s thumb rubs circles into your skin as he nudges your legs further apart and tugs your panties to the side.
And you’re such a good girl for him, lining his dick up with your entrance and sinking down on him slowly, whimpering as his big cock stretches you out, rubbing against your walls perfectly. He bottoms out inside you, and your legs are already shaking by the time your hips meet his.
Palms pressed against his chest for balance, you roll yourself forward, tentatively grinding against him. His hands help your hips along, stroking and squeezing your soft skin as your lips part. You moan for him, quietly, and your pussy flutters around his cock, gripping him so well.
“Perfect,” he ends up saying out loud under his breath, watching through half-lidded eyes as you rise off his dick and drop back down, slowly fucking yourself on his cock. Everything about you is absolutely perfect like this. Your quivering walls. That look of concentration on your pretty face as you roll your hips against his.
At some point, Jean’s palm slips around to your stomach, his fingers spreading wide to touch as much of you as he can. The sheer lingerie tangles with his fingers, the loose fabric dangling around his wrist, keeping you half-hidden from him. Your legs twitch as his hand slides higher, his fingers brushing the underside of your breast.
Before he can slip his hand beneath the lacy top of the babydoll you’re wearing, your fingers wrap around his wrist, stilling him. Jean thrusts up into you as you pull his hand from your chest, just to feel your legs tremble against his sides. You meet his gaze, your own eyes hazy with pleasure. His heart is still racing under your palm, beating faster as his hips move with yours.
His breath catches as you bring his hand to your lips, his hips stuttering slightly. Your expression is soft when you press your lips to the palm of his hand, placing a fleeting kiss there as his fingers curl into your cheek.
Your eyes find his in the darkness of the bedroom, your features soft and hazy in the low light. The tip of your tongue swipes across your lower lip teasingly, and his mouth goes dry as you shift your grip on his wrist, bringing his fingers to your mouth. His cock throbs as your lips part for him. Two of his fingers dip into your warm, wet mouth.
“Fuck,” Jean whispers around a shaky exhale, his hips snapping against yours as you suck on his fingers, your needy tongue lavishing attention to the tips. He can feel it tremble against the pads of his fingers before swirling around the digits. The sensation goes right to his cock. He groans as you pull his wrist closer, his fingers delving deeper into your mouth, long and thick. You hum around them, your teeth pressing against his knuckles.
Jean tugs his wet fingers free from your mouth, still staring up at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Slick with spit, they brush against your jaw. You shiver at the chill it leaves behind.
“You’re so pretty, baby.” His fingers curl around your chin, guiding you down for a slow kiss that makes you melt into him. Your hips stutter against his as the angle changes, causing your clit to grind against his pelvis every time you rock against him. “I want to feel you cum around my cock,” he mumbles against your lips.
“Jean,” you whimper, starting to tremble as he thrusts against you, matching your slow pace. That little ball of pleasure in your belly grows tighter, threatening to snap as the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushes against your clit. It’s not enough to send you over the edge. Not quite. And your clenching walls nearly make him cum right then, a low moan of your name on the tip of his tongue.
Jean is a gentleman though. He lets go of your chin, grabbing your hips with both hands, urging you to move faster for him. When you do, he slips one of his hands between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan in his ear, one hand fisted in the blankets beside his head. Your hips lurch into his hand as he plays with your clit, rubbing you with fast circles and mumbling praises under his breath that are lost on you as you squirm on his lap.
It’s the way he pinches your clit that makes you spasm around his cock, your pussy clenching around him as you cum hard.
Jean isn’t far behind you, his hips thrusting against yours as your limbs lock up, your face buried against his neck. His pace falters as your slick walls squeeze around him tightly, sucking him in deeper. He pulls your hips flush against his as he cums, filling you up with warm, sticky fluid.
You aren’t sure how long you lie on top of him, catching your breath as his hands stroke your sides. His lips press against the side of your neck, and you giggle as his scruff scrapes against your sensitive skin, tickling you.
“Jean, what are you doing?” you murmur as he sits up with you on his lap, his cock still buried inside you. His palms latch onto your thighs, and your arms wrap around his neck lazily. His lips move to your temple as you tuck your face into his shoulder.
“Let me take care of you now.”