The wet heat of her clung to him.
Each time she lifted, he felt the soft, swollen lips of her pussy drag along his length before she sank back down and took him deep again.
"Is this— is this okay?" she panted. "Right there. Oh— right there."
Lor swore under his breath. It was more than okay.
His hands left her thighs and planted on the table on either side of her head.
He leaned down over her, and the angle changed, and she gasped.
His chest pressed against hers, hot and damp.
Their breath mingled.
Her hands found his shoulders, then his neck, then his hair, and she held on to him as he thrust.
Every stroke brought his face a little closer to hers.
Her mouth was open, her lips wet and red where she had bitten them, and her eyes had gone soft and unfocused. She was looking at his mouth.
He was looking at hers.
They were a breath apart.
He slowed, just a little, and the room went quiet except for the wet sound of their bodies and her shuddering breath against his lips.
The table creaked under them.
Her pussy clenched around him in tight, rhythmic pulses each time he pushed deep.
"Nellie," he said.
"Mm."
He kissed her.
It was soft.
Barely a touch, just his lips against hers.
She whimpered and tilted her chin up into it, and he kissed her again, slower, pressing a little harder.
Her fingers tightened in his hair.
He kept moving inside her in long, slow strokes, and every thrust pushed another small, helpless sound out of her into his mouth.
The heat of her wrapped around him.
He could feel the slick walls of her pussy gripping him on every pull.
The third kiss was messier.
She was the one who changed it.
She tilted her head, opened her mouth against his, and pulled him in, and the kiss turned clumsy and wet and hungry, all lips and teeth and quick breaths.
Her nose bumped his cheek.
She made a frustrated sound and kissed him harder, and he laughed into her mouth and kissed her back, sloppy and eager and not caring at all.
Spit slicked their lips.
A thin line of it caught between them when they parted for air, and they came back together before it broke.
Her hips kept rolling up to meet him even while they kissed.
The fourth one was slow again.
Lor slid his hand into her loose hair and cradled the back of her head.
He tilted her face up.
Then he kissed her deeply, with his tongue, and she opened for him with a soft, shaky moan.
Their tongues met and slid together, warm and slick, and she tasted of sugar and of him.
He sucked gently on her tongue, and her whole body shivered.
She moaned into his mouth and clung to him and kissed him back hungrily, greedy for more.
Her tongue chased his.
His thrusts went deeper with each pass, slow and full and timed to the kiss, in and out and in again, and the wet, obscene sounds of it filled the cabin, from her mouth and from between her legs and from the table creaking under them.
Her pussy clenched hard around him every time he bottomed out. Sweat gathered between their chests. The smell of her filled the small space.
He had not known she could kiss like that.
Her hand slid off his shoulder and dropped over the edge of the table, searching blindly for something to hold on to.
Her fingers closed on something cold and smooth. They tightened on it for a better grip, and pulled.
Clack.
Outside the lattice, the lamp changed color.
The red glow on the moss wall vanished. A cool, innocent green light spread over the lattice in its place and fell in thin diamonds across her bare shoulders, and across Lor’s back.
Neither of them noticed at first.
Nellie’s eyes were closed. Lor’s mouth was still on hers.
Then, on the other side of the door, soft footsteps stopped.
knock knock
Two polite knocks.
"Your lunch, sir. Miss."
The whole room froze.
Lor went rigid from head to foot. Nellie’s eyes flew open.
They stared at each other from half an inch away, with his cock still buried deep inside her, her legs still locked around his waist, and her tongue still warm against his mouth.
For one long, ridiculous second, neither of them breathed.
Her pussy clenched around him once, involuntary. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his neck.
Then Nellie’s gaze slid to the side, to the edge of the table, and to the brass lever under her fingers. Her whole face went white.
"No," she whispered.
"No, no, no— I didn’t—" She scrabbled at the lever and tried to push it back. "I can turn it— I can turn it back to red—"
But Lor had already moved.
He had panicked completely.
He pulled out of her in one quick motion and she gasped at the sudden emptiness.
The wet sound of it was loud in the sudden quiet.
He stumbled back from the table, grabbed himself, and shoved his cock back into his trousers with fumbling hands.
It was still thick and slick and refused to go.
He cursed under his breath, forced it in, and dragged the buckle shut so hard the leather pinched. The head of his cock pressed uncomfortably against the fabric.
"Get up," he hissed. "Nellie, get up. Get dressed, now."
"I’m sorry— I’m so sorry, Lor, I didn’t mean—"
"It’s fine. Just move!"
She slid off the table so fast her knees nearly buckled.
The moment her feet hit the floor, she felt his cum leak out of her ass and run thick and warm down the inside of her thigh, and she squeezed her legs together with a small, mortified squeak.
Her blouse lay in a heap on the cushion.
She snatched it up and shoved her arms into the sleeves, and she buttoned it crooked, started over, and buttoned it right.
She hooked the pink bra back into place with shaking hands.
She tugged her stockings up, one, then the other, and smoothed her skirt down over her hips. The fabric clung slightly where her skin was still damp.