Still nothing. It was as if he were mocking her: he didn't want, need, anything. She'd tested him, and he'd failed-- thus making her fail. Fuck, what now? Maybe he was still recovering from last night, the tying-up had been pretty intense, even for her. More so for him. Or maybe it really was her, no longer new and enticing. Amber tensed with the effort not to wriggle and give herself away; the last thing she needed was him asking her why she was upset, since there was no face-saving way of saying that he should be more turned on by her, damn it.
Eric playing with her fingers was paltry consolation. Amber returned the favor sulkily, letting her thumb explore his palm. She did love his hands, but it just made her sadder, that they were touching in the ways they usually saved for after an orgasm. So she just clutched his hands to her chest, comforting herself in the intimacy of their hug. Thank goodness he couldn't see her expression. "What does he do now?" To be Eric's dad-- he must be an imposing man. More rigid, perhaps, than Eric himself. Strict. A keen urge took hold of Amber; she wanted to meet his father, see who'd have made and raised the person who'd willingly spend his Saturday morning hugging her. She bed she’d like him.
The sunlight, inching, had reached them. Warmed Amber right up. "Geoffrey's three years older," she said, closing her eyes. "He's in Ohio right now, he works with property law.” Amber didn’t know much of what he did and she didn’t bother to find out; as long as it sounded prestigious, she didn’t care. “Brian’s two years younger than me, he’s in California. Everyone likes him, he’s the family clown.” ‘Goofy’ didn’t seem like Eric’s type, though. Amber let out a breath. It might be too soon, but if their sex life was already withering up, Eric owed her at least this much. And she might not get a better opportunity to ask. “Actually, you could meet them this Thanksgiving. They’ll be there, and my mom wanted to meet you.”
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Eric playing with her fingers was paltry consolation. Amber returned the favor sulkily, letting her thumb explore his palm. She did love his hands, but it just made her sadder, that they were touching in the ways they usually saved for after an orgasm. So she just clutched his hands to her chest, comforting herself in the intimacy of their hug. Thank goodness he couldn't see her expression. "What does he do now?" To be Eric's dad-- he must be an imposing man. More rigid, perhaps, than Eric himself. Strict. A keen urge took hold of Amber; she wanted to meet his father, see who'd have made and raised the person who'd willingly spend his Saturday morning hugging her. She bed she’d like him.
The sunlight, inching, had reached them. Warmed Amber right up. "Geoffrey's three years older," she said, closing her eyes. "He's in Ohio right now, he works with property law.” Amber didn’t know much of what he did and she didn’t bother to find out; as long as it sounded prestigious, she didn’t care. “Brian’s two years younger than me, he’s in California. Everyone likes him, he’s the family clown.” ‘Goofy’ didn’t seem like Eric’s type, though. Amber let out a breath. It might be too soon, but if their sex life was already withering up, Eric owed her at least this much. And she might not get a better opportunity to ask. “Actually, you could meet them this Thanksgiving. They’ll be there, and my mom wanted to meet you.”