I don’t remember what influenced him this night. I can’t remember if I had a bad day or a case of the grumpies. I don’t remember anymore because he drove it all out of my mind with two fingers.
Ready for bed. Laying in his arms, snuggled close and tight. His foot hooked my leg and pulled it away from the other. I was spread open, exposed, vulnerable.
I was prepared for aggression, firm touches, unrelenting strokes. Painful orgasms. Tender parts. I was prepared for all of it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid I couldn’t handle what was coming.
His fingers softly stroked my body, a feather-light touch that made me gasp. My body melted into the bed. I luxuriated in the feeling of warm skin against my own. Oh yesssssss.
I knew, though, this was just the beginning. Fast, aggressive touches mean fast, aggressive orgasms. Soft, soothing touches mean teasing. The agony will be prolonged until I’m a hot, writhing mess on the bed.
Two fingers stroked the tender flesh on either side of my slit. I shuddered with desire, breathing heavily. Slowly, they met in the middle and slid into my wet heat. Gently, he touched my clit, already beginning to throb with desire.
With utter patience, he used two fingers, two gentle, strong, warm fingers to drive me wild. My hips bucked uncontrollably. My breathing changed, turning into shuddery pants. My fingers clutched the sheets. My nipples tingled. My toes curled.
Time stood still. My entire existence narrowed to the warmth growing in my core, heat created by just two relentless fingers.
Finally, finally, he whispered, “Cum for me, girl.”
Every muscle tensed. My back arched. My pussy spasmed. Release. Sweet, sweet release.
As soon as I came down to earth, I heard, “Now I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.”
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