pulled his hand away, and in a gesture that I’d only ever dreamed about, and read about, in a gesture that was without question, hotter than anything I’d seen so far, he raised his fingers to his mouth and drew them in, wetting them. My entire body arched up towards him, waiting for the feel of these warm, wet fingers on me. I watched them, stared at them, willing them to move faster as he lowered them. It felt like it took forever to feel him on me again. But when I did, I couldn’t hold my body up anymore, and it flopped back down onto the bed. All my muscles melting and turning to jelly as his fingers moved over me, bottom to top. And when they reached the very top, he sped up and flicked his fingers upwards. I gasped. Loudly.
He did it again, this time the flick was faster and harder. More pressure, more pleasure. The gasp turned into a long moan, which became a pant as he did it over and over, relentlessly. With each flick the pressure seemed to get stronger. A coil felt like it was twisting and tightening in my belly. And it was going to tighten and twist so much, that soon it was going to reach its limit, and explode apart. That’s what it felt like. I clenched my fists and my hands felt like they needed to grab a hold of. Something.
I reached down between us and without a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed for him and wrapped my hand around him tightly and possessively like he had done with me. As soon as I did, the look on his face and the moan that escaped his lips urged me on. He lifted his body a little so I could get better access. That move caused all the muscles in his shoulders and arm to bulge and twitch. I ran my hand up his length, pulling it towards me. When I reached the top, I released my grip and let my fingertips trail over the soft skin there. And now I did what he had done. And I watched with pleasure as he also shivered with anticipation as I circled him there, once, twice, three times. His breath came out in little bursts, and then he moaned as I gripped him tightly again and worked my way down. His hips thrust, pushing hard against my hands, as if he wanted to make sure he felt everything. Every possible sensation that my hands could deliver. He pulled back and thrust again. Sliding in and out of my hand as I kept it quite still. His thrusting was slow, and hard. I looked down for the first time, to see what it looked like. To see what him moving through my hand looked like. I licked my lips as I watched how desperate and needy it all seemed. And when I looked up again and caught Noah looking at me while I watched him, I felt a completely new sensation that caused my head to slam into the bed.
His fingers were inside me now. They pushed in deep and slow and filled me. His thrusting stopped and I ran my hand up and down him with urgency as he pushed deeper into me. In and out, faster and deeper and then slower. He brought his lips back down to mine and kissed me deeply and slowly as his fingers explored every part of me. One second they were inside, and the next they were out, his thumb rubbing me and flicking me, before diving back into me again.
We rocked our bodies back and forth like that until I could no longer kiss him anymore, because I was panting. Because my chest was rising and falling faster and faster and my free hand was forced to grab a hold of the pillow and hold on tightly, as tightly as I was holding onto him. It felt like I was going to fly off this bed and into the sky as his fingers moved faster too. His thumb seemed to be drawing circles around me, while his other fingers seemed to trace the inside of me, twisting and turning and finding places in there I didn’t know existed.
I was on the verge of totally losing control of my body now. And he was too. I could feel it in the way he could no longer kiss me either. Rather rest his open mouth on mine