Jenny had taken a shine to Crane, meaning she teased him whenever possible. When they first met, she taunted him with a raised eyebrow, "Ichabod? Do your friends call you Ichy?"
"Not if they want to remain my friends." She had laughed at that, saying lightly to Abbie, "I like him."
Abbie had walked Jenny out to her jeep, pausing when Jenny said, "I would totally get why you disappear now that Tall Dark and British is back in town."
Abbie stood firm, saying as determinedly as she could for Jenny to get the message. "No one or nothing is coming between us again, Jen. I won't let it." She saw the brief flash of emotion in Jenny's eyes and wanted to hug her tightly to show that she was going to keep her promise of always being there. She settled inside for squeezing her hand, and was very relieved when Jenny squeezed back just as tightly.
Dating Crane, though, was its own challenge.
He was impulsive, annoying, prone to have a (usually) negative opinion on things he didn't understand and was too talkative by far. He should have made her feel like pulling out her hair and there was the odd day or two that she snapped at him until he got the message. And yet, she'd never been able to be with anyone in such relative harmony. He kept things interesting, that was for sure. He had a way of harping on topics until she got him to change his mind by appealing to his sense of fair play and usually by giving him another angle from which to consider things. Normally that meant being patient, going through lengthy conversations and dialogues, but if he was being too prissy and she was not up to talking, she liked to take him down a few pegs.
Right now that meant doing a teasing dance to Rihanna's "Rude Boy", while he sat on the spare chair in her bedroom, legs crossed, fingers stroking his beard and moustache, focusing a hungry, blue stare on her. They had been discussing burlesque and his pronouncement that there was no appropriate modern music to properly accompany the artform. She had refused to let him get away with that, cocking an eyebrow at him in mimicry, and saying she was looking forward to him eating his words on one condition.
"Hands to yourself, Crane. You can look but you can't touch." Her eyes twinkled as she teased him. They had not slept together since beginning to date for two months now. It seemed he was content to let her set the pace and she was finding it sweet to be properly courted by fresh flowers, picnics in the forest, dinner dates and lazy motorcycle rides that ended with drugging kisses and cuddles in his apartment. Not that she didn't want to screw his brains out, but she was enjoying the special care and he was happy to do things just to make her happy and cherished. That always brought an extra glow that encouraged Jenny's mischievous remarks.
"Ms. Mills, I'll have you know that I was once a soldier in Her Majesty's army. I can most certainly control myself and counteract your bounteous charms," he said in faux outrage.
She mulled over the thought in her head. "I don't think you can keep your hands to yourself that easily."
"Ah, is that a note of challenge? Do you want to turn it into a wager, Ms. Mills?" he smirked.
"Deal." They even shook on it, though the sneak tried to pull her close to him. "Uh uh, Crane. I'm in charge here."
"Yes, Lieutenant. I am ever yours to command." The arched eyebrow and hot look almost had her deciding against going through with her scheme. Almost.
"You owe me, Captain." His eyes darkened at the appellation. She made a note of it.
It had been a while since she had done anything like this, but it was coming back to her. She kept it simple, removing her jacket, top and jeans teasingly to parade around the room in a sheer camisole, lacy boyshorts that showed half her ass, and bright red heels specially for the occasion. His gaze though…her nipples had hardened long before actually reaching this stage, but with him looking at her like that, she wanted to put a little extra spice into things, so she made sure to rub her hands seductively over her body, concentrating on her breasts and wet pussy. The lick of his lips as her fingers swiped across her pussy, briefly dipping in to test the wetness there almost inspired her to shove it in his face and command him to eat her out. Almost. By the time the song ended and skipped to the next in rotation, she was tired of waiting. She sashayed over to him, taking her time, watching his predatory look. She leaned over, straddling a very hard dick she noted happily and linked her hands lightly around his neck.
"See something you like, Captain?" Her husky voice drifted across him, causing a thrill to run through his body that echoed in her own, skin lightly pebbling from the awareness between them.
He ran his gaze across her chest, sending a blaze of heat across her. He couldn't touch her, but then he didn't have to with a searing brand that was almost physical. "I could show you but someone forbade me from touching, apparently."
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?" Good thing she planned a sexy lap dance for him. "You might want to hold on to something Captain, we've barely gotten started."
She directed him to take off his jeans (nothing killed a mood more than grinding up on hard denim) and sit back down. She smirked at his dick tenting in the boxers, "Is all that for me?" The damp patch near the head told its own story; he was already well turned on. She could read the strain in his features as he attempted to keep himself under control; she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
By the time she was finished with him, he wouldn't even be able to remember his own name.
Abbie sat on him with her back turned, making sure he could easily see her cheeks hanging out of the boyshorts and started to grind on him slowly. She heard him groan and felt his dick jerk involuntarily in response to her movements. She smiled widely. Good.
The song was an old Beyonce fave and as "Drunk in Love" softly wafted over them, she moved even more sensuously, leaning over to touch the floor as his dick lightly grazed her clit through the fabric. This time both of them moaned. She turned her head to the side to see his hands gripping the chair handles tightly, corded veins bulging through the skin showing how much he was resisting the urge to thrust up. She had to slow down herself because this was feeling way too good and she had much more in plan.
She got off and stood facing him, looking at his half-lidded eyes which smoldered at her, watching her every move. Well, that certainly shut up him, she thought in satisfaction. She lightly caressed her nipples through the camisole, panting heavily when his darkened eyes followed her fingers. God she could almost feel his tongue there, remembering just how capable he was of bringing her off just with that masterful mouth of his. She discarded the camisole top hastily, pushing her breasts in both hands and swirling her thumbs around peaked nipples. "Abbie," his voice rumbled through her, hitting the peaks before running to the pool of wetness between her legs.
She let her hands drift down teasingly to the edge of her panties. His eyes followed them helplessly, swallowing hard when she made as if to take down the material. "Just kidding," she flashed a smile. He huffed a breathless "Lieutenant, please" in her direction.
"Ready to give in yet?" she asked sultrily. He shook his head no, unable to look her in the eyes as he stared hungrily at her body.
Onto phase two then. She eased onto his lap, hearing his sharp inhalation, then leaned her breasts in his face as she made a slight adjustment below by pulling the material away from her pussy to the side. Opening her legs as far as the fabric would allow, she sat directly on the wet patch made by his dick and whispered, "Watch and feel." Holding onto his shoulder with her other hand, she leaned her head back, slowly grinding on him below. He went absolutely rigid, panting under the strain of his control. He couldn't hold back the moan. "Abbie, I...ohhhh." The outline of his dick was hitting her directly on her clit and she wanted to rub herself on him even more, chasing the ultimate pleasure for them both. Fuck, even through the fabric he felt so amazing, she couldn't help but remember their other times together, thick dick pulsing through her so good she hadn't been able to stop screaming. She nibbled on her lip. Damn girl, slow down. If she kept up those thoughts she would be the one coming all over both of them. She slowed, leaning back up and lightly traced the outline of his lips with her own. She could feel him literally shaking underneath her when she changed the movement, going backwards and forwards to create even more friction on his head.
"How about now?" she whispered, pausing to look at him.
He huffed for breath, saying gruffly, "Not yet." But he wasn't far from, involuntarily resting his forehead on hers before sighing shakily. "Though I'm sure this is not what we originally discussed; this has transcended burlesque."
She was pleasantly surprised. She thought for sure he would have surrendered by now, but here he was, articulate enough to debate the finer points of a strip routine. Time to get a little sluttier.
She leaned back, folding her arms atop her head, which caused her pert nipples to become even more direct. Crane's head was bent as if in silent prayer, staring at them as if he wanted to devour them. She arched her back even higher, angling her breasts towards his mouth and lightly swayed from side to side managing to hit between his bottom lip and chin. Jesus, the tingles from that were spreading straight to her pussy and down to her toes. She bit her own lip, trying to restrain her own moans and settling instead for heavy sighs. She clenched her core muscles – thank you, yoga – and was able to grind ever so slowly on the swollen dick below her. Through lidded eyes she could see Crane close his, trying to shift his body every so slightly back to avoid her breasts; she chased him until he had nowhere to go and felt the shudder ripple through his body. His dick involuntarily spasmed and she lifted her ass a little to bring it back down, mimicking riding him. He stiffened and pushed up again, this time more deliberately. She groaned hard and dropped back down a little rougher. This time he lifted his hands from the chair, gripped her back, and growled, "I yield."
He kissed her roughly, desperately drinking from her as he caressed her back with urgent strokes. She responded just as fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck and grinding a bit faster. He broke off the kiss, breathing roughly, chest rising and falling rapidly from his exertions.
"I fear if we continue, it will be too much for me to resist, Treasure." He kissed her cheek quickly, preparing to get up, but halted when she pulled on his shirt.
"Who said anything about stopping?"
He looked carefully at her. "You're sure, Abbie?"
"Yes." And she was, completely. Yeah, their test results were clean and she was on birth control again, but she hadn't felt so comfortable or thoroughly taken care of – ever – by anyone. It was the right time, for her, for them and it was time to make it official.
He hoisted her up, kissing her deeply while she wrapped her legs around him. "Ummff, take off your clothes," she ordered him. They had to get creative because he refused to let her go, saying he had been deprived of touching for too long, but between their combined efforts they managed to divest him of his clothing, though she stopped him from removing her panty. "Leave it on."
He put her on the bed, lightly rubbing the wet fabric before pushing it to a side and inserting one long finger, then another in quick succession. She spread her legs as far as she could, feeling the panty ride up into her crack, but he moved it out of the way so one cheek was completely exposed. He lightly nipped on the bare outer lip, setting her juices flowing again. As she had hoped, he was quite taken with the total wax she'd had done at the spa in the hopes they would get to this stage sooner rather than later.
"Where do I begin, Abbie?" he rumbled between nips. He licked the entire outer pussy that was uncovered, delving in with his tongue to slowly lap the juice accumulating there. She groaned, moving her hands around in his hair, tugging impatiently for him to get on with it.
He got the message, diving in enthusiastically,and covering so much that she was ready to come in seconds. "Argh, god...fuck Ichabod!" She ground frantically on him, yelling her release shortly thereafter. He gave her little time to recover, sitting her on the bed and slamming her down on him, using those strong forearms to lift her up and down repeatedly onto him before they climaxed.
"So what's your opinion on modern music now?" she asked, curling up next to him while trying to recover her breath.
He screwed his face in mock concentration. "I fear I may have missed some crucial aspects of your demonstration. Perhaps we should have this session again – several times – until I'm able to come up with a better answer."