“You haven’t been yourself, baby,” she commiserates, and it’s true. Clouds flatten the cold sky outside the window. Silent birds huddle in the trees.
His response to her: a low groan.
“Something's missing.” She slides her finger one knuckle deeper into his ass. As she wiggles it she feels his muscles grasp at her knuckle in galvanic response. He whimpers.
“But I think we've finally found our answer.” Her breath is a feather at the feverish skin of his neck, teasing him. She licks at him. Her free hand grips the base of his cock tightly; she is in control, and allowing no passage.
“Everything is going to be better, baby.” She squeezes his root. He groans again, really a continuation of the last groan; he’s been groaning for over an hour. His lungs pump, his blood surges like a rain-swollen river beneath his skin. The shaft is shiny with spit and pre-cum; the head pulses an angry, insistent red. His hands feel like they are handcuffed to the sides of the bed; he is, in fact, free to move.
The thick drop of pre-cum that peeks out from the tip of his cock draws a ragged, audible gasp. She parts her lips to reveal the tip of her tongue.
“Oh, my, yes,” she purrs. “A pearl? Is that a pearl of sweet cum for me?” Her hand tightens around the base of his shaft, her finger sinks a full knuckle deeper into his ass, curling like a trigger, expert at plumbing the mysterious workings of his body. She knows just where to tease him, what buttons to push. His entire body jerks: a caught fish.