"Ugh," Jack muttered, dropping his briefcase on the floor just inside the door. Ally was stretched out on the living room floor, her right leg in the air and her left arm holding onto her right foot. Her back was arched with the strain, the fabric of her pink tank top stretched tightly across her chest, grey shorts that managed to cover her lass but not by much. Her tank top was wet under her breasts and down her abdomen; her shorts were wet exactly where they shouldn't be wet when he wasn't around. He felt himself grow hard immediately.
"What the fuck?" he asked, looking at her left leg, long and lean, stretched along the floor. "You're dripping sweat."
Ally shook her head. "Not anymore. I just got back from hot yoga. Just practicing a pose my instructor showed me today."
"Did you wear that to yoga?" Jack asked, trying to keep his tone even.
Ally frowned. "It's so hot in that room, Jack. This is as much clothes as my body can handle."
Jack shook his head and made his way over to her. She looked...flexible. He knelt down next to her, ran his fingers up the inside of her left leg, across her pussy, and up her right leg. "And he just showed you this pose? Or did he put his hands on you and help you." Jack moved his face closer to hers, dragging his lips across hers.
"He touched me," Ally admitted in a whisper, unsure whether she should put her leg down or not. She felt warmth flood back into her body, starting in the path his fingers had drawn, concentrating between her legs. She tingled between her legs, a nagging ache growing. She'd been asleep by the time he got home every other night this week, and it felt like it had been ages since he'd been inside her, had his hands on her, holding her down, pulling her up, pinching and teasing and caressing.
"Where?" Jack asked, nonchalantly.
Ally shivered as he tucked his fingers inside of her tank top, and brought it down, exposing a breast. The cold air against her nipple felt delicious. Ally licked her lips, "On my thighs."
Jack left her breast out, moved his hands down, settled one her left leg just above her knee, the other on the back of her right leg, just above her knee. "Here?" he asked, kissing her neck. Ally shook her head. "Tell me where to move each hand."
"Move your right hand up, and inward, toward my inner thigh." Jack moved his right hand up three inches, curved it along her leg till it sat comfortably on the inside of her thigh. "Here?" he asked.
"Higher," Ally whispered in a throaty whisper. Jack slid his hand up an inch. "Higher." Another inch. "More." Jack slid his hand up, and when his thumb touched the bottom of her shorts she said, "There."
"Now my left. Should my left hand be inside your thigh too?"
Ally shook her head. "No."
"So my left hand is in the right place?" Her mouth had fallen open, and he realized his right thumb was rubbing her, sliding up under the hem of her shorts, then back out at the end of it's arch. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Ally's hips kicked forward slightly, almost involuntarily. She gasped and bit down on her lip. "No."
"Where should I move it?"
"Down my thigh."