[Her thighs shake even harder now, from gentle shivering to damn near earthquakes. The muscles tense and release and she doesn't feel like she has any power to control them. Angela knows very well why she likes it; it feels good and it's fantastic to just be able to relax and let somebody else satisfy you. No pressure for more than to enjoy herself, letting the orgasms happen when they do.
But she's still a ways off from coming, so she encourages him to do more by moving a hand from the counter to the top of his head, fingers slipping into the strands of his hair. Angela's gently petting him, not yet giving him that harsh tug she knows he likes. He hasn't earned it yet.]
[He takes encouragement well -- always has, because he'll never be able to entirely turn off that part of his brain that's eager to please and to take orders -- so her fingers in his hair just inspire him to try harder. With one hand still gripping her, his other hand frees itself from his grip on her thigh to gently nudge her legs a little further apart, enough to slide one finger inside of her. The way he sees it, if his mouth is good, his mouth and fingers can only be a better combination, right?]
[That finger was a little unexpected, but nowhere unwelcome. He's doing a lot and quickly too and far be it from Angela in her infinite impatience to slow him down. In fact, as she tightens around his finger, pulling her walls to squeeze him like she does with his cock, she's going to demand more.]
Another... one. Shit...
[Certainly a rough-edged demand and not a polite request.]
[He's certainly not looking for polite requests; the demand makes him laugh a little, sounding pleased, but he doesn't break contact with her at all -- she'd probably kill him if he pulled his mouth away now. Since she doesn't seem interested in him going particularly slowly, he slides another finger into her, seeing just what kind of noises and words that'll get her to make.]
[She'll kick him and then strangle him if he moves away, but Angela's glad he knows better and knows how to follow her demands well. The moment he slides that second finger inside her, she raises up on her tip toes, groaning at the slight stretch. It feels so good that her head falls back and she tightens again, needing to feel more than just this. Greedy, isn't she?]
[Greedy, maybe, but in a good way. Honestly, it just encourages him, and the rhythm of his motions with his tongue and fingers quickens a little, trying to push her over the edge, wanting her to lose control entirely. This is the kind of thing he could do all day and never get bored, although maybe it's best that he doesn't tell her that, since then he'd never get anything else done.]
[Those fingers at the top of his head tighten and tug pull at his hair and this could end badly for his hairline. But try finding it in Angela to care when his tongue flicks and rolls against her like that and his fingers curl against that sweet spot. She would let him do this all day; no need to tell her.]
[Far be it from him to complain about having his hair tugged at like that. He enjoys it, he always has, and damn, hearing her say his name like that, that's enough to make him willing to do just about anything. He'd be encouraging her with his words, too, if his mouth weren't otherwise occupied, but he thinks his tongue is plenty encouraging as it is. With as firm a grip on her thigh as he dares, he pulls her as close as he can, the fingers of his other hand working to rub against that sweet spot.]
[She keeps calling his name until it gets stuck in her throat and it comes out strangled and incoherent as her orgasm hits her. Her thighs are shaking, her entire body's convulsing, her knees threatening to give out on her... Angela feels like she's on fire and she's going to die but it's the best death ever and a fantastic way to go.
And one the waves die down, she slumps back against the counter, grateful she has some support because she'd be face down on the kitchen floor, a puddle of satisfaction.]
[He doesn't pull away until he's absolutely sure every last ounce of pleasure has been wrung out of her, but when he does, there's definitely a look of self-satisfaction on his face. His hand stays on her thigh, almost helping to prop her up against the counter, but he doesn't bother to get off of the ground yet.]
[Waving a hand, Angela needs a few moments before she can find her voice again. Breathing, normally at least, is hard but doable so when she does answer his question, the words are strained and shaky.]
[He is riled up, but for once, he doesn't want it to be about that. Maybe it's because he's feeling a little romantic. The kind of romantic that might make him say stupid things, if he's not careful.]
[She'll get to him, give it to him as good as he gave it to her, if not better, just not right now. Still, she wants him to know she hasn't forgotten about his pleasure.]
[Angela huffs another laugh, finally opening her eyes to look at him.]
Since when do you have self-restraint?
[She's never seen him practice it. Not that she's complaining about all the times he's jumped on her and they ended up in bed. Just making an observation.]
True. [She pushes herself up on one elbow, staring at him oddly. This is strange from him. It's nice, of course, but strange and new.] You never not try anything, though.
[Angela drawls that out because that is not what she wants to hear. He's not here to be at her beck and call and yes, respecting her consent is great, but she feels there's a lot more than just that behind his words.]
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But she's still a ways off from coming, so she encourages him to do more by moving a hand from the counter to the top of his head, fingers slipping into the strands of his hair. Angela's gently petting him, not yet giving him that harsh tug she knows he likes. He hasn't earned it yet.]
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[That finger was a little unexpected, but nowhere unwelcome. He's doing a lot and quickly too and far be it from Angela in her infinite impatience to slow him down. In fact, as she tightens around his finger, pulling her walls to squeeze him like she does with his cock, she's going to demand more.]
Another... one. Shit...
[Certainly a rough-edged demand and not a polite request.]
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[Those fingers at the top of his head tighten and tug pull at his hair and this could end badly for his hairline. But try finding it in Angela to care when his tongue flicks and rolls against her like that and his fingers curl against that sweet spot. She would let him do this all day; no need to tell her.]
Jimmy... I'm gonna...
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And one the waves die down, she slumps back against the counter, grateful she has some support because she'd be face down on the kitchen floor, a puddle of satisfaction.]
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So. Does that count as me gettin' into trouble?
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Whatever you want, you can totally have it.
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[Still grinning. Still cocky.]
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At any rate, she waves her hand again and finally gives in to her weak knees, aliding down to the kitchen floor.]
I need to sit down.
[Only it's more like lying down by the looks of it. The floor's nice and cool against her sweaty skin.]
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You okay over there?
[Because as well as she knows Jimmy, she bets her entire paycheck that he's riled up.]
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[He is riled up, but for once, he doesn't want it to be about that. Maybe it's because he's feeling a little romantic. The kind of romantic that might make him say stupid things, if he's not careful.]
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[She'll get to him, give it to him as good as he gave it to her, if not better, just not right now. Still, she wants him to know she hasn't forgotten about his pleasure.]
Jesus...
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[Yep. There was some of that whole goddamn romantic thing. Oops.]
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You say that now, but how long will looking and not touching be enough?
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[He just usually doesn't want to.]
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Since when do you have self-restraint?
[She's never seen him practice it. Not that she's complaining about all the times he's jumped on her and they ended up in bed. Just making an observation.]
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[Although he does still have his hand on her cheek.]
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[That's dangerous. He shouldn't be saying anything at all, but Jimmy isn't good at shutting up once he gets started.]
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[Angela drawls that out because that is not what she wants to hear. He's not here to be at her beck and call and yes, respecting her consent is great, but she feels there's a lot more than just that behind his words.]
This isn't about sex, is it?
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