proofofconcept | IC inbox

[A heavy exhale, preparing himself, but he does it. A hand wrapped around lightly, stroking slow from base to tip for her viewing pleasure. He doesn't speak, all she can hear is labored breathing.]

[ he does and she watches that slow stroking, closing her eyes as she imagines what it feels like. ]

You're such a good boy, Quentin, following all my directions, doing what you're told-- [ her breath catches, fingers moving over her clit again. ] I love your cock and the way it feels inside my cunt, making me come...

[ then she does, crying out his name as she comes all over her own fingers. ]

[Quentin shudders and maybe edges again, just a little one, and lets go of his dick as soon as he's sure it's okay, watching the way her hips buck against her own hand, aching for that to be his hand, his mouth, his cock. He keeps the camera on his denied cock until she indicates that he can move it, resisting the urge to keep touching.]

[It would be so fucking easy to just pull and pull until his back arched and he spilled across the ground.]

[ she pants and breathes and shivers her way through her climax and when it's done, she lets the camera linger on her soaked pussy. then she turns the camera so he can see her lick her own fingers, her eyes still lust filled. ]

Don't stop, Quentin. Edge again, then come home so you can edge yourself with this. With me.

[He lets out a needy little whine, but he wraps his hand around himself again.]

Good boys don't come. Good-

[He goes totally silent as he edges this time -- biting his lip, not that Hope can see it -- and quickly lets go. He's gonna have to stay here and wait a minute, lest the pressure of his jeans as he walks be a risk to being good.]

[ there's a sigh as she stretches out again and hums her approval. ]

Good boys don't come and you're such a good boy. My good boy, Quentin. Such a good boy for me, stroking that hard cock. [ a pause. ] Come home and be with me.

Soon.

[He's breathless as he shifts over to lean on something, dick still out, and then flips the camera to show his face, flushed and wrecked.]

I just...need a minute. [He drops his head back against the tree he's leaning on and pants.]

Do you wanna come? [ her voice was tender as she looked at him, wanting and hot. ] Do you wanna feel my cunt, what it did to me to watch you edge yourself? I wanna feel you taste me, get all hard before you edge yourself using my body...

[A pained groan that dissolves into a pained laugh.] You are not making this any faster.

I know.

[ she sounds amused. ]

Tell me what you're thinking anyway.

[He shifts so he's more sort of curled up on his side.] Um. I'm trying to think about...baseball? I don't know anything about baseball. Fuck I wanna be inside you. Ummmm. Fillory is as popular as it is because it's about these kids who were real and lived next door to the author and the kids disappeared a few years after the first book was published.

[Of course, this leads him to thoughts about Plover, which is actually a boner kill. If anyone deserves the library's poison room, it's him. Hey, the poison room is definitely not sexy! Okay, he's calming down now.]

That's probably not what you were expecting me to be thinking about, I just realized.

It's not. [ she pauses. ] Did it work? Can you walk now?

Sorry. [He'd love to basically sit here and play more but he'd rather get home, and to do that he needs to chill out.]

Ummm...not yet. Getting there.

More baseball.

[ her tone is amused and she shuts the video off. ]

It means I can't tell you what I'm doing while I wait.

Honestly I'm sure I could get horny about baseball if I tried right now.

[There's some sounds of him shifting his weight, and then deep, slow, controlled breaths.]

Okay. [One more breath.] Okay. I'm gonna. Attempt. Getting my pants closed.

You can at least, like, get horny to how fucking long this is taking me, that's like, something, right? Like proof that- ow- proof that I'm really fucking hard for you.

I like it when you're hard for me.

[ her tone is soft and gentle and affectionate. ] I always want you hard for me. Thinking about me and fucking me and putting your mouth on me...

[ she trails off. ]

As long as you're still able to walk.

[A half-muffled groan, but he's got it in his jeans now, so it's contained if she's a little mean. The compression of his jeans is helping a little.]

Okay. Okay, let's... [A small sound of effort as he gets up, then footsteps as he goes to retrieve his bag, set a safe distance away.] Okay. I'll be home in like...I dunno, half an hour? However long it takes me to get there basically.

I'll be waiting upstairs. Naked.

[ and she will, even if it takes the full half-hour. she has nowhere to be except waiting for him to come and play with her so she can talk dirty to him. ]

Quentin was still a little hard about it when he arrived home -- three edges and then friction from a lot of walking will do that to you. But it didn't take him the full half hour, at least, before he was in the door, taking off his bag and jacket. He'd acquired a plastic bag for his gloves and mask, just in case, so he put them in, then put the whole thing in his satchel. Feeling relatively safe from getting dosed or dosing Hope, only then did he take his boots off and head upstairs.

"Hey," he said at the door to her room, and felt the urge to kneel right here for her. Like he shouldn't stand in her presence. That was maybe a little intense, so he tried to split the difference a little, coming to the edge of the bed before he knelt. "I'm home," he observed astutely.

"I see that."

She'd known the instant he was in the house, tracking his heartbeat, then his steps, and now that he's at the edge of the bed, she leans over to cup his face and kiss him deeply. Every part of her is aching for him; nipples hard, pussy wet, and her skin is practically on fire as she thinks about him wanting her as much as he does.

"Tell me that you still want to edge yourself using my cunt," she whispers against his lips.

Her saying it against his mouth made him shiver, his jeans getting tighter already. He was already aching from the pressure, so he reached down to open them, not trying to get them off yet, just freeing himself with a sigh of relief. They could talk dirty for a minute with his dick out, it was fine.

"I wanna edge," he breathed, and kissed her again. "I wanna edge in your cunt, and I wanna make you come with my mouth when I need a longer break. Please." Another kiss. "Please, my lady, will you, will you let me edge in your cunt? Please?"

He was keeping it contained there on the floor, not letting himself squirm or anything, but his need felt like it was bursting out of him.

"Oh."

It came out a breathy sigh against his mouth as she kissed him again. "Such a good boy, just for me, I love it." Another kiss, passionate, her fingers curling against the side of his face. "Do it. Slowly, for me, edge yourself. I wanna feel it, hear you beg me to come--"

She tugged gently, urging him silently onto the bed with her.

Quentin got up and stripped his clothes off in record time, then followed her onto the bed. Manhandling her a little, he arranged them into the position that would work easiest for this: on their sides, facing each other. No complicated angles required, nothing that made either of them support their own weight, but easy to pull out when he needed to.

Once they were positioned, Hope's leg up over his hip, Quentin reached down to take hold of himself, rubbing the head of his cock between her lips, teasing them both for a moment. He took a long exhale as he came to rest in the right spot. "Good boys don't come," he whispered. Slowly, he shifted forward, letting out a desperate sound as he sank into her. "Good boys don't come. Good boys don't come."

"Good boys don't come."

It's a quiet echo of his chant as she mouths his neck, then his collarbone, nibbling there as she leaves a small mark with her kiss. The urge is there to fuck back against him, but she doesn't, putting everything she has into letting him fuck her to the edge. "Good boys go right to the edge, but they don't come until they're told."

Another kiss on his jaw. "You're so good, aren't you? My good boy."

Panting softly, he pulled her closer, arm around her waist so they were chest to chest, stomach to stomach. He was trying to control himself, go slow, but he couldn't help it. After just a few moments he was fucking desperately into her, fast and hard, chasing the orgasm he knew he couldn't have. He buried his face against her neck, just closing his eyes and letting himself rut. He was in control enough that he'd be able to stop when he needed to.

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