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This flash fiction was written for Ayase, under the very kind prompt of "Hey Jeeves write whatever you want." It contains sexual acts between multiple consenting adults, and romantic cuteness.

The Look on Their Faces

Tristan and Georgia

I can't help it, I love to fuck my wife while she's brushing her teeth. The first time, it really was just a spur of the moment thing. She was dancing to some song I was listening to on my MP3 player, one of those waterproof ones you stick to the inner wall of the shower, while we were both getting ready for work. I got out of the shower, still dripping wet, and saw her swaying back and forth with her tail up and her cute, naked ass right there. We'd already agreed not to fool around that morning, we were right on schedule and any delay would make us both late, but of course my morning wood wouldn't listen.

She still had the toothbrush in her muzzle when I slipped up behind her, and when she felt the stiffness of my cock rubbing between her legs she made no move to resist, no attempt to tell me that she really did think we should wait. She blushed, and kept on brushing even as I slipped into her. My hands wrapped around her midsection, and to make sure that we both got where we wanted to be as quickly as possible I started to rub her clit as I fucked her. God, the look on her face. She was trying to act like everything was normal, like she was perfectly capable of brushing her teeth and getting fucked at the same time, but her eyes had this beautiful glaze to them and her cheeks were burning bright red beneath her fur. Albino huskies might have their issues with eyesight and skin-care, but god are they cute when they blush.

After just a few minutes, she was leaning against the sink with both arms, and her toothbrush was just sort of hanging there out of her muzzle, a froth of saliva and minty toothpaste drooling down her chin. I swear she hadn't blinked in a minute or more, but she wasn't just staring off into space. She was looking back at me, watching me as I watched her reflection in return. Blushing brighter and brighter as she realised what I was waiting for, what I was watching for.

I've always told her she looks so beautiful when she cums, and now she could see me waiting for it. More than that, she could see her own face as I pushed her towards her climax and towards mine. And, y'know what? Even though she wouldn't admit it if you asked her, I think she saw it too. I think she looked at herself in the mirror as she started to tremble and whine in ecstasy, and I think that she knew exactly how gorgeous she looked as her muzzle fell slack, her toothbrush clattered into the sink, and she began to squeeze and shudder around me as I poured myself into her.

Since then, I found her taking longer and longer brushing her teeth in the mornings and evenings. Funny thing is, even when it got colder and she was wearing pyjamas to bed, she somehow always seemed to slip out of her bottoms before starting to brush. She always seemed to dance and wave her tail back and forth, even when I wasn't playing any music.

Now we fuck in front of the bathroom mirror at least once a day, and as I whisper to her how beautiful she is as I hold a vibrator to her clit or rock my cock against her g-spot, I get to watch those gorgeous faces she makes not only knowing that she knows how much I love them, but also knowing that tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that too, I'll get to see that same gorgeous look upon her face again.

*********

Karima and Samantha

People think that asexual people just never have sex. That we never think about it, never have any desire for it whatsoever, that it's an all or nothing kind of situation; an off/on switch with no middle ground. But, as with the vast majority of things in life, reality is more complicated and nuanced than that. Take me and Samantha, for example. I'm more demi-sexual than truly ace; if I form an emotive connection to someone then sexual attraction can become a part of that, but even then it's never so overwhelming that I wouldn't consider a relationship without it. As for Sam, she enjoys sexual pleasure, but sexual contact with others, any sort of expectation to perform with a partner, dramatically lessens that enjoyment. It's not that she's turned off by the mechanics of sex when it comes to her own body, but more by the obligation of it in regard to others. It's hard for her to focus on her pleasure when she feels like it's got to be tied to someone else.

So, when she's horny and she wants us to do something together, we slide under the covers of the bed and we masturbate together. No touching, no talking, not even looking at one another's bodies in a way that might make her feel as though we should be touching or wanting to touch each other by society's expectations. We listen to one another's moans, and quite often as we lie there side by side with the bed creaking and the sheets rustling as our fingers go wild beneath them, we watch one another in the only way we can. We watch each other's faces, and drink in a beautiful rise to ecstasy that is somehow separate in both our minds from the physical actions taking place between our legs.

Watching each other masturbate, it isn't sexual beyond the way in which it obviously is. We aren't looking at each other's faces because we know those faces are being made as a result of fingers plunging in and out of soaking wet pussies, but rather because it shows off the happiness we feel in those moments of bliss, the joy we feel at being able to share them together after so many years of either swearing off relationships entirely, or forcing ourselves to contend with relationships with sexual people who said they understood our wishes, but inevitably ended up either coaxing us into much more regular sex than either of us wanted, or guilt-tripping us into asking them for sex when we had absolutely no desire for it, under the guise of proving how much we really cared for them.

Now though, all that crap is behind us.

Now I get to lie in bed and watch my skunk bite on her bottom lip as she fights not to scream, and she gets to watch my nose wrinkle, my eyes roll, my whole face bunch up like I'm about to sneeze or something.

We get to see how happy we can make each other, and how happy the woman we love can make themselves with a few well placed digits and some appropriately applied pressure, written all over our faces as often or as rarely as we need to. And if one morning I wake up and see Sam biting her bottom lip while the bed shakes, but I'm not feeling it, I still get to see her looking so happy as she finally lets go of her lip and screams as her whole body shakes under the covers. I don't feel left out, I don't feel like I've let her down by not being a part of it, and I still get to cuddle up with her afterwards and tell her I love her all the more for having been awake just long enough to see the look upon her face.

*********

Robert

I know it's a bit narcissistic... okay, not a bit, it's completely textbook narcissistic, but I love to watch myself cum. I used to take a mirror into the shower with me, but I got so frustrated when it steamed up as I was jerking off. Eventually though I found a solution. A new apartment with a bedroom that had mirrored doors attached to its closet, full length and super clear glass, really well lit too. Now I can sit on the edge of my bed and jerk off, watching myself greedily stare at... well, myself. I love how eager I look. How desperately needy and excited I get, a feedback loop that makes it hotter and hotter the more turned on I get doing so.

When I have people over, I always try and make it so we fool around in a way that lets me look at myself. I lie back on my bed with their cock slipping into my ass, I beg them to fuck me hard and pull their body down against mine, and as they hammer away at my prostate I rest my head against their shoulder and turn my face towards the mirror. I watch their hips plough forward against my body. I watch my hands claw and scratch at their back. But most of all I watch my face greedily indulging in every wave of pleasure that washes over me, grinning and growling as I get away with looking at myself, enjoying my own handsome face while at the same time making my lover of the moment feel so good about themselves, thinking that they are the one responsible for just how long and how hard I'm gonna cum.

One of these days I'm gonna get someone to press me up against the mirror while they're fucking me, and I'm gonna press my lips to the glass as I cum. I'm gonna see my eyes roll back as I try to make out with my own reflection, as I hump at the glass and frot with my reflected form. Until then though, I can slip on one of those anti-sickness masks you can buy at the local drug-store, stuff a toy up my ass and rub up against the mirror all alone without causing any steaming up whatsoever. I can hump and grind and stare to my heart's content, and beg myself to cum, tell myself how gorgeous I am, right up until I... u-until... oh god, I'm fucking rock hard just talking about this. I need to find a mirror, right fucking now.

*********

Katie, Bradley and Winston.

My wife has a boyfriend, but that's okay.

He mostly visits when I'm away on business trips, but that doesn't mean he stays away when I'm at home. We're friends. All three of us. We go out for dinner together, we watch movies, we just hang out and chat. Most people wouldn't think anything was amiss about a single man having a married couple as friends, and they'd be right, that's totally normal. Except, they don't see the times when we get home after that dinner or as the middle of the movie is dragging on, and Katie and Winston find some reason to slip away from me. To leave me sitting on the couch chilling out on my own, or so they think, while they sneak upstairs into the spare room and fuck each other's brains out.

They think they get away with it. They think they're so secretive, and that I'm so innocent.

They never saw the cameras I installed after I caught them the first time... and the second, and the third. They never thought to ask where that teddy bear on the chest of drawers of the spare room came from, just another trinket I brought back from one of my trips overseas.

I see everything they do. I watch, I listen to every time they fuck. Over and over again, it's basically all I watch when I'm away from home and my beautiful wife. Videos saved onto my phone, clips of them fucking, clips of my wife screaming into Winston's hand pressed tight over her muzzle as she shudders and gushes around his big, thick zebra cock.

But of all the clips I've got of them, there's one which is my absolute favourite. One where Katie's orange and black striped face is mere inches away from the camera, bent over and shaking violently as she's being fucked from behind while clinging to the chest of drawers for support. You can see the relief in her eyes, the pure joy at being fucked by him. By a guy with a cock that can barely fit in her it's so big, and a guy with stamina that can last not just until she's cum, but until she's sore from cumming over and over and over again. A look she'd never have on her face with me, trust me on that, I know.

Some men would be outraged to see what I saw. Some people would think I was a pussy, that I was being taken advantage of, that my wife and her boyfriend were evil for betraying me and the bond of our marriage. But... y'know what? Fuck them. Fuck them all, because since my wife started to fuck Winston, we've never been happier. She's so affectionate, so at peace, so complete, and you can see all of that in her face when Winston is fucking her, and when he's making her squirt and thrash as she cums.

That one video though, that alone is reason enough for me to not just be okay with her infidelity, but to make it so if they ever broke up, I'd be devastated. Not just because of how hot it is, not just because of how hard I cum every time I watch it, but because of the truth it shows. The truth that matters more than any of her and Winston's lies, and which I see written upon her beautiful face, which I hear whispered in ragged gasps of ecstasy every time I watch that incredible clip.

"I love you... I love you. O-oh yes. Yes, c-cumming, I'm... oh, Bradley. Bradley, p-please. I love you."

My name.

It might not be my cock, might not be my body making her cum, but it's my name that she whimpers as Winston pounds her pussy. It's my name that's on her lips as her eyes roll back, as that beautiful orgasmic fury crashes over her. Winston has to wrap a powerful hand around her face to keep her from shrieking my name at the top of her lungs, to keep her from removing any of the suspension of disbelief he must be fighting so hard to keep alive every time he's with her. The belief that while he's fucking her, she's thinking of anything and anyone but me with every thrust.

My wife has a boyfriend, and that's okay. It's okay because I know that she still loves me, and because I get to see that love written all over her face every time I see him make her cum.

By Jeeves

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