Page 61 of The Other Side

The weight of the ecstasy is overwhelming. He fills me with his long fingers, plunging in slow thrusts. Eventually kicking up speed.

“Your pussy says otherwise,” he whispers hoarsely. He sounds almost sympathetic. “Maybe you should listen to your body.”

I wag my head as I drench his fingers. I can hear how turned on I am, my wetness echoing against the walls of his living room.

It’s humiliating in the most empowering way.

His lubricated fingers thrust in and out, and my mouth folds. Caging all the mewls I’m desperate to release. I trap my whimpers as he preserves a melodic rhythm, and then he’s curling his digits.

Oh god.

His hand on my lower abdomen applies more pressure, all the while he massages that delectable spot inside of me.

At the same time.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

He’s a bit firmer on each stroke, working me with precision. Expertise I don’t remember from him. It’s unfamiliar and exhilarating. Egging me on in the most selfish way possible.

It’s not rushed, but careful.

And I’m too curious not to look.

The carnal scene between my legs fuels the force of the tremble across my body. My eyes flutter, lips parting as his muscles contract to fuck me with his fingers.

His digits curve up over and over inside of me. Pumping at an increased pace until he’s making love to that fascinating region.

My brows knit as he snowballs the burden at my core. But something’s different. It’s deeply rooted. Erupting from a place I had no idea existed.

And then he’s drilling into me with fervor.

I toss my head back, short breaths pouring from me as he continues to toy with my pussy.

“Is it too much?” he rasps. “Are you alright?”

I shake my head at his hoarse question, but his rhythm decelerates anyway.

No.

No.

“Hey. Look at me.”

His stern command drives my attention to him.

“Is it too much?” His hazel eyes sink into mine, glittering with want. “Answer me.”

“N-no,” I pant, shaking my head. “I’m good. Keep goin⁠—"

My words clip when he resumes his fervent pace. He presses his left palm into my lower belly just as he strokes that spongy patch. And my body practically vibrates.

“How many guys am I gonna have to paint the streets with? Huh?” His question is lined with gravel.

My hands rest on my thighs to open them wider, boldly welcoming his hot fingers.