He cries out quietly, almost silent; his knees spread against the pressure of her grip, and he thrusts up into both their touches.

'Will, if you want.'

He needs to get off. And she's seen worse things about him than his hand rubbing his cock. His head drops back against the cushions, and rolls to the side. His eyes close, so he can concentrate on the pleasure. He's pushing for it now, rigid against her palm.

'Harder, luv.'