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Clear Between the Lines

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Nothing about the silence feels uncomfortable. Akiyama sits on the corner of the couch reading a book on paper crafts and Nao props up against him reading a cozy mystery novel. The remaining portions of dinner and dishes they ate off of are in the kitchen as a chore to be taken care of a little later. The scene is the domestic quality time that even now forms a habit.

The course of events starts with a light sigh—really just a slightly heavier breath—from Nao.

Akiyama’s response is subtle. The light hold he has on Nao moves slightly lower, over her arms. She lifts her elbow slightly. The improved access to her torso doesn’t go unnoticed. Akiyama’s hand moves to rest on her abdomen.

Nao presses a finger to her lips and turns another page in her novel. Akiyama follows along with his book, while his fingers on her stomach begin to lightly stroke circles over her shirt-covered skin. A page later, and those circles form slightly but perceptibly upward from where they were before, and two more pages later, Akiyama could be said to be almost idly groping Nao’s breast. She tilts her head back, and when her upward glance meets his sideways gaze she smiles and gives a slight nod.

The only immediate response Akiyama gives to her signal is a slight upward tilt of the corners of his mouth. Nao returns her book, and Akiyama makes a show of returning to his. Akiyama’s hand though becomes more occupied with Nao’s body. It’s back down at her stomach—at the hem of her shirt to be precise—and each idle twitch and stroke of his uncovers a bit more of her skin. He exposes her breasts methodically, taking each hardening nipple between his fingers, and coaxes them gently to little points. When her shirt is finally high enough to cover nothing but her clavicle, Nao drops the pretense of reading and scoots slightly upward. More of her body comes within Akiyama’s reach. Too casually to be coincidence, his hand strays downward again.

At the hollow of Nao’s hips, Akiyama gently strokes the skin there, and Nao is rewards him with a laugh and an instinctive jolt. The knowledge that she’s ticklish there is saved for another occasion. Their eyes connect again. Akiyama raises his eyebrows and runs his fingers at the waistband of her pants waiting for a sign. One of Nao’s hands joins Akiyama’s hand down there and pulls away the cloth slightly.

The smirk on his face disappears for a second, in exchange for almost boyish shock. Nao blushes and nods. The smirk returns, but more gentle this time. When he begins to follow her silent suggestion, Nao’s gaze goes back to her book. Akiyama faces his book too, but turns no pages. Instead, he concentrates on bringing his right hand still lower, pausing only long enough at Nao’s underwear to confirm that a refusal isn’t coming, and then slides it to rest over her mound.

While Akiyama’s fingers explore between Nao’s lower lips and stimulate the flesh there, Nao pretends to continue to concentrate on her book and that the slight motions her hips make in response to Akiyama’s touch are just coincidence. The flush on her face and the increase in her breathing are the first betrayal. She relaxes and her eyes flutter and stay closed more often not. The moment her book falls from her hands down to her chest and then gets swatted to the back of the couch is the sign Akiyama needs to start rubbing her clit more vigorously. His book gets set aside on the arm of the couch as he shifts position in preparation for the time when he’ll need to hold Nao steady. The slight disruption of the rhythm brings them both back into the world. The next time Nao makes eye contact—face flushed, eyes darkened—Akiyama kisses her lips. Nao doesn’t need to push down on his wrist to give Akiyama the idea that she wants this to continue. Still, she does it anyway.

His fingers slide between her very wet lips, and Nao helps with the simulation by grinding against his palm. When her heels dig into the couch cushion, and her body arches against his hand, Akiyama speeds up his overworked fingers and keeps his eyes fixed on her face. Her breaths come fast and shallow, and the flush on her face spreads all way down to the neckline of her shirt. Sub-verbal noises come from her throat. While her legs and then the rest of her body shake, Akiyama uses his left arm to hold her safe against him and his right hand to not stop until she does.

When Nao’s eyes open, they shine. Akiyama pulls his glistening fingers out into the open and laughs when Nao blushes at such concrete evidence of her pleasure. He touches one of those fingers to her lips, licks them and then kisses her several times. His face could happily be between her thighs if Nao hadn’t given an apologetic smile. She needs to come down a bit from that last orgasm.

Nao’s bottom rubs against his lap, and the physical proof she encounters tells her that Akiyama isn’t nearly as unaffected as he’d like to pretend. The smile on her face turns wicked fast. Nao shifts position to face Akiyama and straddles his hips. Her shirt, now very definitely in the way, goes all the way over head and drops to the floor. Akiyama runs his hands down her bare back and over her hips while Nao leans in to bury her face in his neck. Little kisses trail from his jaw line down to his racing pulse point and end at his collar. Her arms tangle in the fabric of his shirt, and Nao pulls it rather clumsily over his nose and hair. Akiyama’s shirt becomes a pile with hers on the floor.

They embrace. Their hands run up and down on each other’s backs and their chests press into each other. Any space is too much. Down below, Nao moves rhythmically against Akiyama’s lap. His breath hastens. Nao looks up at him and maintains that wicked smile. Both become hyper-aware of the cloth barriers between them, and more importantly what lies underneath them. Akiyama kisses Nao, only in part as a futile attempt to regulate his breathing. His hands move lower into the waistline of her pants, and over her ass. The pants move down of their own accord until they hit her thighs. Nao gets up long enough to stumble out of them. They get added to the growing pile. Akiyama takes advantage of the moment to remove his own pants and complete the set of discarded garments.

They move back to the couch. Nao settles on top of Akiyama, grinding against him. It feels better with fewer barriers in the way of each other’s warmth. Nao’s little sighs risk growing louder. Akiyama brings her lips down to his and kisses her before it’s completely obvious to their neighbors what’s going on. No matter where his hands go—arms, shoulders, back, ass, thighs—her skin is all shivery gooseflesh. Nao’s hand goes between them, and frees Akiyama’s erect cock from the confines of his underwear.

Each point of contact—eyes, lips, chest and thighs—only serves to emphasize the parts definitely not touching.

Almost simultaneously, they separate to fumble around for condoms. Nao digs through their discarded clothing, while Akiyama searches the end table drawers for any that might have been left there in preparation for a situation like this. Their supply is all in the bedroom, too far for their libidos to bother with. Looks are exchanged at the realization. The probability of certain results is quickly calculated against their current sexual desire. Then they laugh, and Nao shakes her head. The obvious activity isn’t an option right now. Akiyama lets his boxer-briefs cover his erection again, lays across on the couch, and motions for Nao to approach.

She sprawls on top of him, her crotch straddling his knee of all places and her face and hands up near his cock. She frees it again, and gives a little kiss. Akiyama’s fingers run through her hair. The slight downward pressure on her head serves as the encouragement to continue. Nao looks up at him, gives another lick and grins. Akiyama’s whole body relaxes. His eyes close, and the hand not petting her hair goes above his head, leaving his body completely open to Nao’s touch.

Nao uses her hand and mouth to develop a rhythm, with slight pauses only to watch Akiyama’s face as she brings him closer to his edge, a view just slightly more stimulating than the strategic arrangement of her body atop his. Her left hand strokes vertical lines up and down his side and under his back, pulling him close to her and touching the firm flesh on his ass. When Akiyama shakes from his climax, it’s Nao’s turn to hold him steady.

They lay there for a while floating down together. Hands and fingers idly caress skin and comb through hair. Then as the glow fades, Nao gives Akiyama a little kiss on the lips and takes a drink from the glass of water. He grabs a tissue and begins cleaning the mess on his cock that he and Nao left behind.

Discreetly, or not-so-discreetly as they separate out their individual clothing, they check each other out and both blush. The whole sex thing between them is still new enough to be novel, even as they’ve gained skill reading each other. Each touch and brush that happens as they sort through their clothes and dig Nao’s book out from under the couch cushions states an obvious truth. Neither of them is quite done for tonight.

“Later?” He asks, pulling on his pants.

Nao delivers a perfect sunny smile over her the neckline of her shirt. “Later.”