touches. He moved with such confidence and ease, it left me melting for him, feeling as though I was succumbing to his every need and command.
When he opened my jeans, he slipped his hand down but stayed over my panties. Again, he was confident enough to enjoy my body and not have to hurry up. My hands touched his back again to feel the way his muscles flexed and moved with each movement he made. His fingers curled down and around between my legs, pressing against my panties. I could feel the burning heat transferring to his fingers. I was so wet by then that my panties clung to my body. I wondered if Logan could feel it. Then one of Logan’s fingers touched the side of my panties. He moved my panties out of the way, allowing the tips of his fingers to graze along my delicate, wet folds. My legs jumped and I thrust at his fingers, not expecting the move.
Logan smiled, his eyes radiating and capturing me with some kind of sweetness yet his fingers between my legs were anything but. He continued to play, touching me, rubbing me, and just when I thought I was reaching my breaking point to cry out for more, Logan pressed his lips to mine and inserted one of his fingers into me. I cried out as we kissed and his finger slid deep. My body welcomed him and welcomed the movement that came next as he fingered me. His other hand pressed against my back, forcing me tight to him. He took his finger out of me and away for a second. Now Logan hurried, going down the front of my panties. His fingers glided along my smooth skin until he touched me again. This time he wasn’t so slow and gentle. His middle finger touched my clit and rubbed for a few seconds, almost sending me over the edge. I buried my face into his neck, crying for him, wanting more.
So much more.
Two fingers touched me at my tender center and were lost in me. He pressed hard and began to move, slowly at first, gently working himself into a faster motion. I heard him breathing and felt his heart racing. This wasn’t just some hookup and I wasn’t just some girl to finger. It had more meaning. What the meaning was I didn’t know, and quite honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted Logan to keep touching me, to keep enjoying me.
I gripped the top of his jeans and pulled. The space I created by pulling made it easy for my hand to slip into his pants. I was over his boxers and felt him a second later. The thickness. The hardness. Logan groaned and pushed at me. His fingers moved faster, almost pulling, wanting our bodies touching. I was ready to do anything for him. Anything he wanted.
Logan moved so his lips touched my ear again.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked, almost out of breath.
“Don’t do any more,” he said.
My hand squeezed over his boxers.
How could I not do anymore to him? My hand was right there?
“This is about you,” he whispered.
I had no idea what that meant, but it teetered on the thin line between erotic and romantic. It didn’t matter though, because the soaring pleasure through my body started to take over. I could feel myself already there, ready to explode.
Logan picked his head up and touched his forehead to mine again. We played some kind of flirty game with the tips of our noses touching, our mouths open, teasing each other with the possibility of another kiss. All the while my hand touched him over his boxers and his fingers pleasured me.
“Lift your shirt,” Logan commanded. “Right now.”
The sweet romantic guy suddenly became the wild rockstar guy. In the blink of an eye. But honestly, nothing sounded hotter than when he said that to me.
I had to take my hand from his pants and I moved to my back, finally, and lifted my shirt. I only did it a little, teasing Logan, but he wasn’t buying into it at all. His fingers exited my body and he purposely kept his wet fingers against my skin as he moved his hand up. I felt the wetness of my own body being spread against my skin. He took a handful of my shirt and
When he opened my jeans, he slipped his hand down but stayed over my panties. Again, he was confident enough to enjoy my body and not have to hurry up. My hands touched his back again to feel the way his muscles flexed and moved with each movement he made. His fingers curled down and around between my legs, pressing against my panties. I could feel the burning heat transferring to his fingers. I was so wet by then that my panties clung to my body. I wondered if Logan could feel it. Then one of Logan’s fingers touched the side of my panties. He moved my panties out of the way, allowing the tips of his fingers to graze along my delicate, wet folds. My legs jumped and I thrust at his fingers, not expecting the move.
Logan smiled, his eyes radiating and capturing me with some kind of sweetness yet his fingers between my legs were anything but. He continued to play, touching me, rubbing me, and just when I thought I was reaching my breaking point to cry out for more, Logan pressed his lips to mine and inserted one of his fingers into me. I cried out as we kissed and his finger slid deep. My body welcomed him and welcomed the movement that came next as he fingered me. His other hand pressed against my back, forcing me tight to him. He took his finger out of me and away for a second. Now Logan hurried, going down the front of my panties. His fingers glided along my smooth skin until he touched me again. This time he wasn’t so slow and gentle. His middle finger touched my clit and rubbed for a few seconds, almost sending me over the edge. I buried my face into his neck, crying for him, wanting more.
So much more.
Two fingers touched me at my tender center and were lost in me. He pressed hard and began to move, slowly at first, gently working himself into a faster motion. I heard him breathing and felt his heart racing. This wasn’t just some hookup and I wasn’t just some girl to finger. It had more meaning. What the meaning was I didn’t know, and quite honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted Logan to keep touching me, to keep enjoying me.
I gripped the top of his jeans and pulled. The space I created by pulling made it easy for my hand to slip into his pants. I was over his boxers and felt him a second later. The thickness. The hardness. Logan groaned and pushed at me. His fingers moved faster, almost pulling, wanting our bodies touching. I was ready to do anything for him. Anything he wanted.
Logan moved so his lips touched my ear again.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked, almost out of breath.
“Don’t do any more,” he said.
My hand squeezed over his boxers.
How could I not do anymore to him? My hand was right there?
“This is about you,” he whispered.
I had no idea what that meant, but it teetered on the thin line between erotic and romantic. It didn’t matter though, because the soaring pleasure through my body started to take over. I could feel myself already there, ready to explode.
Logan picked his head up and touched his forehead to mine again. We played some kind of flirty game with the tips of our noses touching, our mouths open, teasing each other with the possibility of another kiss. All the while my hand touched him over his boxers and his fingers pleasured me.
“Lift your shirt,” Logan commanded. “Right now.”
The sweet romantic guy suddenly became the wild rockstar guy. In the blink of an eye. But honestly, nothing sounded hotter than when he said that to me.
I had to take my hand from his pants and I moved to my back, finally, and lifted my shirt. I only did it a little, teasing Logan, but he wasn’t buying into it at all. His fingers exited my body and he purposely kept his wet fingers against my skin as he moved his hand up. I felt the wetness of my own body being spread against my skin. He took a handful of my shirt and
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