His Hand
Being at his place but in a guest room means that when I can't sleep, I go bother him. Tonight I can't sleep again, so it's time to bother him. I get up and go down the hall to his room. I slowly open the door to a pitch-black room. I know his room, so I walk to the side of his bed, thankfully not bumping into it. I feel for him, and he grabs my wrist, scaring me, which makes him laugh. I grumble.
"Dickhead."
He chuckles.
"I couldn't help it. Lay down."
I climb in but don't get under the covers. I find his hand after lying on my back and fidget with it as I ask.
"Why are you up? Normally I wake you up when I come in."
He shuffles, pulls his hand away, and gives me his other hand, which tells me he's facing me.
"You come in here every night, so I've started to wake up naturally. It's becoming something I enjoy."
I smile.
"Glad you enjoy my visits."
He hums, and it goes quiet. I think about things, and fidgeting with his hand gives me ideas that should never be acted on, but I still ask with forged confidence.
"Would you be ok if I used your hand to get off?"
Was get off a good choice of words? I don't know, but he doesn't pull away despite not answering the question. I continue fidgeting and waiting for his answer. Eventually, he tells me I can. If I'm honest with myself I didn't fully think this through. I let his hand go, take my underwear off, and toss them on the ground. I get comfortable and grab his hand again, and before anything else, I ask.
"You're sure you're ok with this?"
"I'm sure; use my hand."
I take a deep breath and put his hand palm down on my pussy. I really haven't thought this through; maybe riding his hand would be better. I assume he won't keep his hand limp, though. I push on his hand with mine as I grind. This feels so much better than using my own hand. I keep my moans as quiet as possible, especially as I use his middle finger to start fingering myself. I don't know exactly what to do, so I 'look' at him and softly ask.
"Can you do it, please?"
He moves slightly closer, and his free hand plays with my hair as he fingers me slowly. He speaks softly.
"I want to hear you; let me hear you."
I don't suppress my moan as he pulls back so he can circle my clit slowly; he hums his approval as I moan louder while he continues. I don't exactly focus on what he's doing, just that he's making me feel good. I hold his forearm, and when he starts to finger me again with his middle finger, I push up on my heels slightly to keep pace with him. By now, my moans are just heavy breathing. He adds another finger, and when I get close to cumming he stops making me whine.
"Please, I want to cum."
He starts again.
"How many times have you come into my room, waking me up?"
He edges me again, and I tell him that I don't know and his response is a disapproving noise.
"Try again."
He continues fingering me, and I know for the first couple days I didn't bother him. He edges me again, and I tighten my hold on his forearm as he pauses. I go back to trying to figure it out, and I've been here for two weeks, so I wince as I say.
"Twelve times."
He starts again as he hums.
"And how many times have I edged you?"
He edges me again, and I groan, trying not to get fussy.
"Three."
"And how many more till twelve?"
He edges me for the fourth time so I tell him.
"Eight."
He moves closer and starts to delicately kiss my shoulder. He's still playing with my hair, and feeling his lips on my shoulder makes me appreciate wearing a nightgown. I angle awkwardly for a second so I can kiss him. He adjusts, and so do I, so I'm not straining my neck as we make out. I feel a tightness in my chest as he lets me cum, my legs closing on his hands as I pull away to groan. His tone is firm.
"Ride it out."
My body jerks as I cum. It's not till when I relax and have ridden out my orgasm, he stops. He kissed my shoulder.
"Good girl."
I focus on catching my breath, and he pulls away. I hear him cleaning his fingers before he grabs my face, making me look in his direction before kissing me. Tasting myself makes me squirm. Knowing he made me cum makes me squirm, but I'm thankful he didn't edge me twelve times. We're both out of breath. He moves so he's between my legs with his hands on either side of my head. He leans down and kisses me. Next, he kisses the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, working his way down, stopping at my collar bone.
"Can I take this off?"
I hum, and he kisses my collar bone again before telling me.
"Words, I want you to use your words."
"Yes, please take it off."
He pushes up, so he's kneeling. He takes my nightgown off before taking his previous position and leaning to kiss my breast bone. His left hand finds my left breast and massages it as his mouth finds my right breast, sucking at the skin to leave his mark.
