The urgent touch

From his vantage point on the bed, he watched her fingers move quickly across the length of his jean-covered cock. Her touch was urgent, almost desperate, as if she were in a hurry or perhaps nervous. The room was filled with soft light, casting a warm glow over the scene. He could see the details of her face clearly—the sharp features, the way her long straight hair cascaded down her back. She seemed focused, her eyes never leaving his, as her hands worked rhythmically.