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Brit's Book of Ideas

Something for Sophie


Sometimes the need is just too much.

He heard her.
Listened with a small but growing smile, as hurried steps flew up the stairs, heels probably kicked away before the first was mounted. Style giving way to speed.
Stockinged feet propelled her upwards, no doubt her teeth fastened on her lower lip to hold back a giggle. Trying to be quiet, and if he hadn't been listening, her flight would have gone unnoticed.
But he was listening. He was always listening.

The door clicked shut upstairs and he slowly counted to ten, giving her time to get ready.

One. She'd be leant against the door, catching her breath.

Two. Fingers would be reaching back, seeking out the zip that would free her from her dress.

Three. Dress on the floor. Panties too. Material lain forgotten as feet took her forwards.

Four. Body on bed...maybe on the chair.

Five. Once she hadn't even made it that far... He smiled at the memory.

Six. Hands would now be straying. Pushing lustrous dark locks back from her face, sliding down over curves.

Seven. Sliding lower.

Eight. Ever lower.

Nine. Nearly ready.

Ten. Time to find out.

His own feet sprang into action. Practice allowing him to slip up the stairs with far less sound that she had done. The carpet on the landing was worn over the years but it still muffled the sound of his approach.
Just the door between them now.

Bending at the waist, bright green eye aligned with the keyhole, pupil dilating as it took in the scene beyond.

Trailing away from the door, as predicted, were her clothes.

Further his eye traveled until a foot was spied, morphing into shapely calf and higher. Up beyond the extent of her stocking to the pure soft skin above.

And he couldn't just see her.
Soft whimpers and moans were slipping mutinously through the keyhole, betraying her to anyone who cared to listen, which he did.
Sounds all the more treacherous as she was trying so hard to be quiet. Laying on her front across the couch, mouth muffled by a cushion while a hand reached under her to her undulating hips.

Lips curled into a smile, watching as those hips rose and fell in an age old rhythm. Steady and smooth, although he noted their passage was growing slightly more sharp. More disjointed.

Emerald hued gaze focused on her fingers, shimmering slightly in the light, touching her in the ways she knew would bring her to climax soonest. He allowed himself a little sigh as her sounds grew a little less controlled. She wouldn't hear him. She never did.

The front of his slacks tented slightly, an urge he'd deal with himself when he was back downstairs. A flicker of movement in the periphery of his vision drew his eyes away from the view between her legs to her chest where her other hand was now toying with a perfectly pink nipple. Puckered skin traced with immaculately manicured nail, then the bud at it's centre pinched.

Her hips reacted sharply, so did his.
Not long now. He knew her so well. All those whimpers, all those sighs. He knew when her fingers left her breast to curl into the upholstery she was close. When she made that breathy little noise that sounded like she might be about to cry she was even closer. In his mind's eye he could see her face, flushed and almost frowning. Willing herself to get there.

Then she shuddered. Fingers trembling between equally shaking thighs, hips driving hard against the couch. In his pocket his fingers clenched, teeth biting his own lip against growling. He didn't want to miss a moment of her glorious release.
How he wished he was in there, to witness the vision in it's entirety. But if he was there, this would not be happening and so behind the door he would stay.

Silently, grinning from ear to ear, he padded away and back downstairs. She would still be coming down from her high and now he had needs of his own that could no longer wait.

She didn't hear him go. She never did.

But then, he didn't hear when she peeked through the study door keyhole either.
Sometimes the need was just too much. And part of a healthy relationship was knowing when your other half needed you...and when they just needed you to watch.
 
Last edited:
havinfun50 said:
Is there any chance I can help you explore this idea? I love to cook, and a sunset dinner sounds divine. Just a thought.
Click to expand...

I'm collecting some images together for potential prompts for future writing challenges, and for my own personal projects. Right now, I'm preparing for Camp NaNoWriMo which starts on Tuesday, things to keep my muse ticking over, that sunrise picture is part of that preparation.

winks

Glad you like the image though!
 
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