Tag: fingering

Lap Dances and other Bad Ideas

“I don’t know, man,” I say, sitting back on the stool, shaking my head, “It’s not something I really like to do, you know?” My cousin Joaquin leans in, nodding, “I do know. That’s why I think it’ll be good for you. Change your scenery. Get yourself a little ‘feminine attention.’ It’ll be fun, man, … Continue reading Lap Dances and other Bad Ideas →

Jolene

“I mean, I have an idea, but... you don’t have a girlfriend or anything, do you?” Confusion brings my eyebrows together. “No.” “Because I think what I really need,” she says with such earnestness that it sounds almost normal, “Is an orgasm. I sleep so much better after cumming, don’t you?”

Irene’s Massage

“I don’t know. He’s nice. Buys me things.” “’Nice.’ Girl, c’mon. Who wants nice? You want someone who’ll make your pussy wet.” “Mary!” She works up my thighs. “Just saying how it is. I may be old, but I’m not dead. If I don’t climax at least once a day, I might shrivel up.”

Aubrey

She leans across to my blanket, pulls the bottle from my stuff and holds it close to her face. “Huh,” she reads it, “’Can be enjoyed solo, but best with a partner.’” “What? It really says that?” I roll close and squint. She pulls it away, gives me a glare I can’t read. “You don’t know what you bought, do you?”

Amanda

She shrugs, turns back to a display of shot glasses. “If he’d asked me, I totally would’ve blown him.” She bends over to look closer at a low cabinet, and I get a face full of her ass. It’s thick, plump, round, perfect, and the reason I chatted her up in the first place. She knows it, sticks it out for my benefit, wiggles it in my face, makes her pleated skirt sway side to side. I want that butt all for myself.

Kelsey

I’m not usually like this, I swear. But as his hand journeys upwards from my knee, I suck down air anticipating what’s to come. I’m attuned to his touch, aware of every contour in his fingerprints as they describe gentle circles on my thighs. With each swoop and swerve, he grows bolder, dancing closer to my heat. His trepidation teases me. I can see it in his face, his excited nervousness, that frightened little boy look, reaching for something he knows isn’t his.

The Shuttle Bus

She was wearing jeans, and as she guided my hand back to them, her eyes locked on mine, leaving me with no ambiguity about what she wanted. No words were necessary as I brought my hand up and felt the warmth between her thighs. My fingers found the seam of her pants and pressed into it, rubbing her sex through the denim.