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Your fingertips brushed over your slick folds, toying with the sensitive bud that longed for attention. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the building pleasure in the pit of your stomach. You had the bed to yourself for a little while longer before your husband, Stiles was expected home. Any other time you would have waited on him, but considering it was late, you were sure he would be ready for bed.
He worked so hard as an FBI agent. As much as you did not want to pest him, he was to blame for the mess between your legs. It was hard enough sending him off to work neatly groomed, smelling phenomenal in his uniform. The sad part was that was the easiest part.
The hardest part was the video chats you received on his lunch breaks. Getting to see him in his bulletproof vest, his hair messier than when he left the house. The sight of him always left you in puddles.
Stiles had tried to make a habit of his calls since he had started his job considering he could not be home to have dinner with you some nights. He always told you it was the closest to feeling like he was at home, but a part of you wondered if Stiles knew the effects of his video chats on you.
You rolled over in the bed, your hand disappearing into the drawer of the nightstand to retrieve your handy dandy vibrator for desperate measures. You laid back against the pillows again with legs spread wide, eagerly dragging the trusty vibrator through your slick, rolling it around your clit teasing like Stiles would. You pushed on the button, feeling it roar to life against your already sensitive nub.
A gasp escaped your lips as your head pulled back against the pillows. "Oh..." You sighed.
Focus. You wished you had checked the time, but you knew you didn't have much time left before Stiles would be home.
You let out a shaky breath, reaching further between your legs to coat your fingers in the puddle of arouse there. Your fingers were so much smaller, so much shorter than Stiles'. His, oh, his reached spots you almost wished he couldn't. He always used his long fingers to his advantage. Finger fucking you until you were crying and seeing stars.
Stiles always had that innocent look about him, but God was that assumption so far from the truth. Ever since you two had experimented with your sex life, you did not realize how much you didn't know about the man you fell in love with. Not only was he so gentle, but he was just as rough.
Fuck it. You knew your fingers were no match to his, but they would do for now.
Two of your fingers pushed inside of your aching cunt, slowly working them in and out of you. You had not realized how wet you had gotten until you could hear the slosh of your juices with every pump of your fingers.
You thrusted your fingers in and out of you while the vibrator massaged the bundle of nerves just enough to make your toes curl.
You curled your fingers, sliding them as deep as you could get them and thrusting them quickly in a sort of rhythm with the vibrator. It was so easy to lose track of time chasing your own release. It was easy to think properly this close to cumming.
The bedroom door opened slightly, causing you to jump and quickly clamping your legs shut. Stiles was home. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment when your eyes met Stiles' wide eyes.
He stood in the doorway still in his bulletproof vest, his hand pushing the door open further to move into the bedroom. A blush rose to his cheek.
He couldn't help the smirk creeping to the corner of his lips. "Were you just touching yourself?" He teased.
Your cheeks blushed a deep shade of red.
There wasn't much sense in covering yourself when the man had already seen you naked more times than you could count. You were more embarrassed getting caught pleasure yourself without him, than of the action itself.
What could you even say? You both already knew the answer to that.
Instead of speaking, you simply nodded shyly.
Stiles stepped further into the room, moving over to the bed and motioning you with his finger for you to come to him. You swallowed the lump in your throat before crawling over to him.
"I'm sorry..." You apologized, but he interrupted you.
"Don't be sorry." He assured you, his body towering over you. "Now lay down."
You laid down in front of him on the bed. His large hands rubbing over your thighs as he slowly parted them to get a good look at you. Goosebumps covered your body from his touch despite how warm his touch was. "You don't have to. I know you're probably tir-"
"I think I can speak for myself." He interrupted. "Just open your legs, baby, and shut your mouth."
Had he been tired before? Sure. But after seeing how much you missed him, craved him and his touch. Sleep no longer crossed his mind. Just thoughts of how he would take care of his late-night hunger for you.
