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A quiet evening in, she climbs onto his lap, her eyes locked onto his. Her touch is soft, almost innocent, as her hands roam his chest, the gentle pressure building anticipation. She reaches his waistband, her fingers tracing the edge, teasing him with her hesitation. He watches, breath held, as she slowly inches her hand inside, her palm meeting his hard cock through the thin fabric of his pajamas. She strokes him gently, her pace maddeningly slow, her eyes never leaving his. He groans, his hips bucking slightly, but she maintains her steady rhythm, edging him closer and closer to the brink, only to slow down at the last moment.