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“Possibly. My cock likes you being closer.”

“Does it?” She sounded vaguely flattered.

“Can’t you tell?”

She cast him a quizzical look. “It looks angry to me. Like it’s throbbing. Does it hurt?”

He shook his head. Ah fuck. He wasn’t going to last long. Not with her right next to him chattering away. He closed his eyes in an attempt to stave off the crisis point.

“Would it … would it like if I touched it?”

Clem gasped. His eyes flew open. “Yes,” he wheezed. “Yes, it would, very much.”

“Should I put lotion on my hand first?”

Clem whimpered, there was no other word for it. He nodded. “Quickly.”

She fumbled with the lid a moment while Clem’s labored breathing filled the room. He watched through half-closed lids as she poured the lotion, returned the cap, then rolled it in her palms. “Do I need to sit behind you and reach around?” she asked.

“What?”

“So, I can get the movement just right.”

Clem gave his head a quick shake. “Just wrap your hand about my cock, please Dora sweetheart,” he all but pleaded, reaching for her wrist, and drawing her hand into his lap. “Fuck Dora, yesssss!” he hissed through his teeth as she took him firmly in hand.

“The angle is quite different so I am not at all sure this will feel the same—” she started.

“Ah!” Clem panted. “No, that’s good, that’s very fucking good.”

“—and my hand is a good deal smaller than yours.”

Clem had to stop himself from lifting his hips off the bed. “Use both hands,” he gritted out. She was quick to comply. “Oh fuck, Dora.” His head fell back, and he had to shut his eyes. Fuck, how was she so good at this? His hips were moving now; he couldn’t help it, he needed more friction. But if he had more friction, he would never last. He felt perilously close already.

“Faster,” he gasped, unable to stop himself. “Harder.” She responded so thoroughly, he nearly jolted right off the bed. “Unnngh, Dora!!” The last words were a strangled shout and Dora was still clasping him as he spurted all over his lower belly. “Oh fuck!” The note of astonished wonderment in his voice rang out in the room.

“Oh Clem,” she said in a wobbly voice, gazing down at him. “Was that too hard?”

“No, it was fucking perfect,” he groaned, collapsing back onto his elbows. “Christ almighty, woman. How the hell did you do that?”

A smile curved her lips. “I’m a good mimic and like to observe. I paid close attention to what you did, and I emulated it.” She even sounded, he thought, a little smug.

His own lips turned up in an answering smile. “Well, you can watch all you like, if I get to reap the rewards,” he said throatily. “I can’t remember the last time I came that hard. Especially to a hand job.”

She looked back at him solemnly before her eyes strayed back to his crotch. “There is a lot of … seed,” Dora murmured, her gaze wandering up to his belly.

Clem glanced down and winced. There sure was. Carefully, she released his now flaccid dick and started to slip from the bed. “Where are you going?”

“To wet the washcloth,” Dora said over her shoulder as she carried it into the adjoining bathroom. He listened to her pour water from a pitcher and then she was back. She hesitated. “Do you want to do it?”

“Only if you don’t.”

She started dabbing at him with the cloth at once. Clem watched her face the whole time. She looked so earnest as she gently cleaned him off, it made his chest grow tight. Suddenly, he realized he hadn’t even kissed her. He did not count that brief salute he had dropped on her lips before the vicar. She slipped away again before he could remedy that, and he heard once more the slosh of water.

Clem scooted back onto the bed, pulling up his underwear and fastening his trousers. He left his shirt open though and laid his head on the soft pillows. Too soft. Clem flung one onto the floor. Hearing her tread, he patted the bed again. “Come and lie next to me, Dora.”

She only paused to untie her ankle boots and then the mattress creaked, and she clambered onto the other side of the bed. “Does it tire you out?” she asked sympathetically.

“Only for a short time.”