Adult Content Warning
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Summary
"Go on, you're practically drooling," he says, "bet your cunt's drooling too."
It wouldn't take much to prove his words right. Only a couple of thick fingers tucking themselves into your pants, but there's no need. You're sure he can feel the damp heat of you over his leg. Reluctance falls apart at the seams, and you move closer, inch by inch. Except, you don't start where he expects.
As avid as you are, you begin elsewhere—at his stomach, where a slight pudge pours over the waistband of his shorts. Warm flesh dimples as you knead at it. His skin is tacky from a layer of cooling sweat. Your lips descend as your hands climb up, up, up, racking over his ribs then crawling around to cup his pecs. Languidly, you drag your lips down the wide column of his throat, feeling his Adam's apple bob.
"You smell so good..." you murmur.
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A home gym made perfect sense for Jack's schedule, but by suggesting putting it in the same space as your office you may have set yourself up for failure. Now your husband is catching on to an odd desire of yours.