her pulsating labia feel moist and swollen, evoking sensations throughout her body that up until now she had only reached from her own hand. She moaned, made little noises that made Rookie squeeze harder, pinch and caress more frantically.
“Let me touch you too. Take off your shirt, Rookie,” Pippa whispered self-consciously, almost begging, pleading. She was not sure of what she should be doing, what she needed to do to satisfy Rookie. To make him hers.
He did as she asked, and she stroked her hands over his chest. It was firm, muscled, not an inch of fat to mar his perfect form. She played with the few curls of hair that adorned his chest, feeling the softness of them. She tentatively touched the small buds of his nipples with her fingertips, marvelling at the feel of him. Her sigh was loud as she enjoyed touching him, finally, after having spent so long wanting him to notice her.
“Can I touch your pussy?” he asked politely, and although Pippa felt nervous, her mouth drying in anticipation, she nodded in assent.
Rookie’s touch was light at first, exploring her, testing, but before long she was riding his hand. “That’s right, beautiful, take what you need. Let me make you fly. Let me show you pleasure that you never imagined was possible,” he said as she slid back and forth on his fingers—two now—trying to find what she was striving for, what her body signalled that it needed.
She felt the moisture build where Rookie’s fingers explored. She was about to reach that glorious peak as her body tensed and arched towards him, the final goal that would ease the ache, the longing. But just as it seemed attainable, he removed his fingers, leaving her adrift and feeling as if she might die from the unattained release.
“I need to be inside you now,” he said, his voice sounding so desperate.
Rookie slowly slid her underwear from her. Still dazed from what his talented fingers had nearly done for her, the summit she had nearly reached, she submitted, unsure of the emotions that rode her. Not sure if the tears that she felt building were from frustration or happiness.
Rookie crouched over her, his silver eyes—the ones that made her heart skip and her breath catch—gleaming with some emotion she did not understand. A hunger, a fierceness that was almost enough to frighten her but also thrill her. This was Rookie, and she loved him—had loved him for almost three years, from the time she’d first seen him at the age of fifteen. So she lay still as he spread her thighs and adjusted himself. Pippa couldn’t see between them, but she could feel the hardness against her. Felt herself parting, allowing him entry. It was a strange sensation as her virginal muscles fought his entry. She tried to relax, inhaled a big breath to calm her fear. She wanted him to see her as a woman— his woman…
Pippa awoke with a start, her body saturated in sweat, her chest heaving, her pussy wet, throbbing with need. Her frequent dreams of Rook Harris took many turns—some where he rejected her, the way he had when she was seventeen. Other dreams were fantasies where he made love to her tenderly, bringing her to orgasm in crashing waves of pure bliss, drawing out every ounce of passion as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, manipulating her body to evoke such pleasure in her it was almost unbearable.
Then there were the dreams that left her wanting, when something would disturb her sleep and awaken her too early.
Of course, it would be this kind of fantasy tonight. Pippa cried into her pillow, refusing to sate her own needs—the needs of her unsatisfied body—as she might have done in the past, believing that she deserved this kind of torment for what she had become. Her torrent of tears finally ebbed enough that emotional exhaustion claimed her.
Chapter Ten
Pippa was nervous as she and Cassie arrived at JT and Mandy’s Cabarita home. Cabarita was a lovely inner-western suburb of Sydney, situated along
“Let me touch you too. Take off your shirt, Rookie,” Pippa whispered self-consciously, almost begging, pleading. She was not sure of what she should be doing, what she needed to do to satisfy Rookie. To make him hers.
He did as she asked, and she stroked her hands over his chest. It was firm, muscled, not an inch of fat to mar his perfect form. She played with the few curls of hair that adorned his chest, feeling the softness of them. She tentatively touched the small buds of his nipples with her fingertips, marvelling at the feel of him. Her sigh was loud as she enjoyed touching him, finally, after having spent so long wanting him to notice her.
“Can I touch your pussy?” he asked politely, and although Pippa felt nervous, her mouth drying in anticipation, she nodded in assent.
Rookie’s touch was light at first, exploring her, testing, but before long she was riding his hand. “That’s right, beautiful, take what you need. Let me make you fly. Let me show you pleasure that you never imagined was possible,” he said as she slid back and forth on his fingers—two now—trying to find what she was striving for, what her body signalled that it needed.
She felt the moisture build where Rookie’s fingers explored. She was about to reach that glorious peak as her body tensed and arched towards him, the final goal that would ease the ache, the longing. But just as it seemed attainable, he removed his fingers, leaving her adrift and feeling as if she might die from the unattained release.
“I need to be inside you now,” he said, his voice sounding so desperate.
Rookie slowly slid her underwear from her. Still dazed from what his talented fingers had nearly done for her, the summit she had nearly reached, she submitted, unsure of the emotions that rode her. Not sure if the tears that she felt building were from frustration or happiness.
Rookie crouched over her, his silver eyes—the ones that made her heart skip and her breath catch—gleaming with some emotion she did not understand. A hunger, a fierceness that was almost enough to frighten her but also thrill her. This was Rookie, and she loved him—had loved him for almost three years, from the time she’d first seen him at the age of fifteen. So she lay still as he spread her thighs and adjusted himself. Pippa couldn’t see between them, but she could feel the hardness against her. Felt herself parting, allowing him entry. It was a strange sensation as her virginal muscles fought his entry. She tried to relax, inhaled a big breath to calm her fear. She wanted him to see her as a woman— his woman…
Pippa awoke with a start, her body saturated in sweat, her chest heaving, her pussy wet, throbbing with need. Her frequent dreams of Rook Harris took many turns—some where he rejected her, the way he had when she was seventeen. Other dreams were fantasies where he made love to her tenderly, bringing her to orgasm in crashing waves of pure bliss, drawing out every ounce of passion as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, manipulating her body to evoke such pleasure in her it was almost unbearable.
Then there were the dreams that left her wanting, when something would disturb her sleep and awaken her too early.
Of course, it would be this kind of fantasy tonight. Pippa cried into her pillow, refusing to sate her own needs—the needs of her unsatisfied body—as she might have done in the past, believing that she deserved this kind of torment for what she had become. Her torrent of tears finally ebbed enough that emotional exhaustion claimed her.
Chapter Ten
Pippa was nervous as she and Cassie arrived at JT and Mandy’s Cabarita home. Cabarita was a lovely inner-western suburb of Sydney, situated along
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