They each take advantage of time alone

Author's note: This part was originally 3 short chapters, but I've chose to group this part together. So if the jumping back in forth is disorienting, I apologize.

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Aiden leaned back, letting his hands fall to his thighs as he watched her rise.Her shorts clung as she stood, caught between the two firm orbs, and the edge of her panties peeking as she turned. She made no effort to cover herself. Didn’t adjust her shorts, or pull at the hem of her tank top. Just paused with her back to him, head turning and rolling slightly as though she were trying to stretch it out and collect herself before walking on shaky legs.

Then she moved until she was walking down the hall without a word, the soft slide of unsteady feet on the floor was the only sound he heard until her door tapped shut behind her. It wasn’t until then that he registered the movie still playing on the TV.

Things escalated fairly quickly, all things considered, he thought.

Aiden sat still, eyes fixed on nothing, but the reel playing in his mind. Her walk as she left the couch, and his view played back in his head. The way her shorts rode up between her ass, the soft pink of her panties peeking out as she turned, the curve of her hips shifting under the hem of her shirt. She hadn’t adjusted a thing. No goodbye. No glance over her shoulder. Just a slow walk and the sound of bare feet slipping down the hall.

He shifted in his seat and glanced down. His cock pressed hard against his sweats, pulsing with the tension he hadn’t let go of since Jenna at the party. He reached down, and pulled his waistband low until he freed himself.

Her skin had been soft and warm. Her foot had rested so casually across his thigh, brushing his shaft more than once. She hadn’t pulled away, making him wonder if it was intentional on her part. Her eyes had stayed on his, locked there, unblinking, while his hands moved over her toes. She’d watched him look between her legs that hadn’t moved.

He wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking slowly, remembering the slow press of her chest as she breathed. The way her shirt clung to her, stretched tight from where she gripped the hem without realizing. The outline of her nipples against the thin top. Her legs open just enough for him to see where her panties had slipped to the side, hinting that she shaved to some degree. That soft little sound she made. Or more specifically, he’d made her make.

His hand tightened on himself.

He thought about her walking back in, saying nothing, and just settling into his lap. Letting him finish what he started. Letting him touch her, kiss her, pull her shirt over her head. His pace picked up as his free hand braced against the couch. In his mind he wasn’t fantasizing anymore. He was remembering everything that had almost happened and everything that still could…

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Natalie leaned back against her bedroom door. Her breath was shallow and her skin was hot. The space between her thighs throbbed with a dull ache that hadn’t gone away since she saw him come out of his room shirtless.

She crossed to the bed and sat. The sheets felt cool against her legs as she lay back. Her shorts stuck between her thighs, until she pushed them down, along with her panties, just far enough to clear her knees, allowing her to spread her legs. Her fingers moved between them, easily sliding over the wet slippery surface. Her clit was already swollen. She took no time to ease into the pressure she needed.

Her other hand rested beneath her breast, holding the fabric of her tank in place. Her stomach rose and fell under it. Every breath made her more aware of the way her body hadn’t stopped buzzing for nearly the length of the movie.

She pictured his hands again. The way his thumbs circled the base of her toes. The slow drag across her arch. His firm, masculine grip. The heat of his lap and the way his cock twitched against her foot. The feel of his fingers pulling and rubbing against her toes.

She touched herself harder as her fingers moved over the sensitive clit. She kept her eyes closed. Her thighs shifted, the damp sounds seemed loud in the quiet room and she knew she wasn’t going to last.

Her other hand slid up under her top now, cupping her breast as the palm grazed her nipple. It was tight and sore from being aroused for so long. The contact making her hips buck.

She imagined getting up, opening the door, and pulling him inside. She’d hook her fingers in the waistband of his sweats, push them down, then walk backward to the bed and lie down with her legs spread. Her fingers would be between her thighs again, right where his eyes had been locked when he thought she wasn’t watching.

She’d show him. Make it clear that she’d noticed. That it was ok, and that she wanted it.

Then she’d beckon him closer, guiding his hand to replace hers, pressing his fingers into the same spot and hold them there until he understood exactly what she needed…

Her mouth parted. Her hips lifted. She worked herself faster, the slick heat building between her legs as her stomach tightened.

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…He thought about her walking back in with no hesitation. Just crossing the room, stepping in front of him, and climbing into his lap like it was where she belonged. Her thighs straddling his, her weight settling right on top of his cock through their clothes.

His grip tightened. His other hand cradled his balls.

Her body would be warm, her skin soft. He’d feel it through his shirt when she leaned in. Her shorts riding even higher as she sat, so only her panties barely covered her now. The same soft pink panties stretched tight across her cunt. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she looked like under them. He didn’t even want to in case he got it wrong. After so long, it was almost a mythical thing that he simply knew he wanted. That it would taste amazing, and feel even better.

She’d press down on him, a slow movement as her pussy lined up with the shape of his hardon, rubbing over the bulge with slow movements. He’d slide his hands up her sides, under her shirt, feeling the curve of her waist, the swell of her ribs.

When he pulled her shirt off, he’d see them for the first time. Her tits, bare and perfect, with tight nipples already hard for him. He’d cup them both, squeeze, drag his thumbs across them until she squirmed.

He moved his thumb to smear his precum over the head, before he tightened his grip and stroked faster. His jaw tightened, and his legs spread a little wider stretching the waistband of his sweats, still bunched at mid-thigh.

In his head, she was grinding now, back and forth, wetness seeping through her panties, enough that he could still feel her coating him in spite of them. Pushing down against him with each roll of her hips, and her breath against his neck. Her hands clutching his shoulders as she panted.

He’d hook his fingers through both leg bands, enabling him to pull the panties aside, and feel how wet she really was. She’d lift up slightly, just enough for him to push two fingers inside. Feeling the tight, slippery, clenching channel as he moved them in and out, his other hand gripping her ass. The thought of her panting in his ear as though ready to beg for more.

His cock twitched hard in his fist.

The way her breath would catch as he curled his fingers inside her, made his grip tighten as he sought out that rougher spot just a little bit inside. He could feel the drag of her body against him, the way she'd move on his hand, wet and clenching around his fingers as she pushed down harder each time. Her voice would be right by his ear, breaking in little mewls every time his fingers hit the right spot.

He could see her pulling back just enough to stand. Her hands would go to her waistband, dragging her shorts and panties down in one motion. She’d step out of them without a word on unsteady legs, her thighs wet and glistening in the flickering light. She wouldn’t say anything before tugging his sweats down his own thighs and just climb back into his lap. Skin to skin now, as she settled over him once more, where he had been imagining her all night.

He was still slowly stroking himself, picturing the weight of her on his thighs, the heat of her against his cock, close enough he could feel every twitch. She’d take him in her hand next.

He stroked himself slower, matching the pace he imagined her moving when she’d settle into his lap, her weight pressing into his thighs. She’d reach back without a word, wrap her fingers around him, and guide him between her legs…

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