Chapter 162: Serious

Jane stayed on her knees with her face low to the tiles, her tongue moving in slow, careful strokes that gathered the cooling mixture of her own release and his. The floor was still wet enough that each pass left a clear trail, and she followed those trails without lifting her head, swallowing every time her mouth filled. Her red hair hung forward and stuck in places where it had brushed the fluid. She kept her thighs pressed together so tightly that the muscles in her legs trembled, trying to hold inside what had already begun to slip free the moment he had pulled out. A thin line still ran down the inside of one thigh and she paused long enough to catch it with her tongue before it could reach the floor, then returned to the larger puddle near the wall.

He watched her from above, one hand resting on the edge of the sink. The sight of her working like that, quiet and focused, kept him half hard even after the long stretch of minutes he had spent inside her. Jane’s back curved as she reached farther, her ass lifting just enough that he could see the swollen, pink folds still parted and glistening. Another slow bead of white appeared at her entrance and began to slide. She made a small, frustrated sound and reached back with two fingers, pressing them against herself to push the bead upward again. Her fingers slipped once on the slickness and she had to try a second time before she managed to seal it inside.

"Leave it," he said, his voice low. "You’ll only push more out if you keep doing that."

Jane froze with her fingers still against herself. She turned her head enough to look up at him, her cheek nearly touching the wet tile. Fluid shone on her lower lip and chin. Her eyes were still unfocused at the edges, the red lines in them not yet faded, and her breathing stayed shallow and uneven.

"I don’t want it to go," she whispered. The words came out thick. "If it comes out I can’t put it back. I already... I already lost some."

He stepped closer until the tip of his shoe rested beside her knee. Jane’s gaze dropped to the shoe, then lifted again. He reached down and took her wrist, guiding her hand away from between her legs. The moment her fingers left her, another slow trickle escaped and ran toward the floor. She made a quiet sound of protest but did not pull free.

"Then catch it with your mouth," he told her. "Same as the rest."

Jane hesitated only a second before she lowered herself again, this time turning so she could reach the new trail that had started down her thigh. Her tongue followed the line upward until she reached the source, and she stayed there, licking carefully at her own entrance while her free hand braced against the floor. The position left her fully exposed. He watched the way her tongue worked, the small movements of her hips as she tried to keep from leaking faster, and the faint tremor that ran through her each time she swallowed. His cock thickened further against his thigh. He let her continue for another long minute, the only sounds the soft wet drag of her tongue and her careful breathing.

Outside the stall a door opened somewhere down the hall. Footsteps moved past, unhurried. Jane went completely still, her tongue pressed flat against herself, eyes wide and fixed on the gap beneath the stall door. He kept his hand on her wrist until the steps faded and the door closed again. Only then did he speak.

"Finish the floor first. Then you can worry about what is still inside you."

She nodded against his skin and returned to the tiles. The puddle had spread thinner now. She worked across it in overlapping lines, her movements smaller and more precise the longer she stayed down. When she reached the edge near the wall she paused, lifted her head, and looked at the faint smear that had reached higher than her tongue could easily reach. She shifted onto her elbows, stretched, and caught the last of it. A thin string of fluid connected her lower lip to the tile for a moment before it broke. She swallowed and stayed where she was, forehead nearly touching the floor, catching her breath.

He crouched beside her. The cold of the tiles seeped through his shoes. Jane turned her face toward him without lifting it fully, waiting. He slid two fingers under her chin and raised her head until she was kneeling upright again. Fluid still clung to the corner of her mouth. He wiped it with his thumb and pressed the thumb between her lips. She sucked it clean without being told, her eyes staying on his.

"Open," he said.

Jane parted her lips. He guided her forward until the head of his cock rested against her tongue. She took him in slowly, the same careful pace she had used on the floor, her tongue moving in small circles to gather what remained of her own taste and his. Soft, muffled sounds filled the stall again. He kept one hand at the back of her head, not pushing, only steadying her while she worked. Outside, another set of footsteps passed closer this time. Jane’s shoulders tensed but she did not stop. He waited until the steps were gone before he began to move his hips in short, shallow thrusts, letting her mouth bring him the rest of the way back to full hardness.

Minutes passed that way. Jane’s free hand stayed between her own thighs the entire time, two fingers pressed tight against her entrance to slow the leak. Every so often a small sound escaped her around him when her fingers slipped and more escaped. She would pause, swallow, then return to the slow motion of her head. Her eyes stayed half closed.