Forced Handjob Novels & Stories

I want to slap myself because my body heated up when the scene of me holding his crotch and moving it up and down rhythmically kept playing in my mind. Damn it! I never expected I could do that in my entire life! Based on my research, it's called a handjob! We both satisfied our needs; he fingered me while I gave him a handjob! Shit, I feel so hot! It's annoying; why do I have to remember that? It's so embarrassing! I'll never give in to the heat I felt because I know I'll regret it so much! "Hey, Architect seems to be remembering something! Don't tell me you've touched Engineer's dick!"

As to prove it, his fist stroked me a few more times, faster now. I’d never felt anything like that over a handjob. That wicked rippling of warmth that seemed to reach my guts and spread inside of me. It was like fucking Steph in kinky lingerie and eating the best chocolate at the same time. The urge for relief and a rush of dopamine colliding right behind my navel and shaking me inside. “Let me know if you’re about to come.” “I’m about to come,” I managed to mumble, gasping and trying to muffle the moans that struggled to escape my lips.

I finger her further and masturbate myself with my other hand. Jesus fucking lord! I grunt closing my eyes and extricate my juices. The seeming fornication was beyond exemplary.

He let out a loud, drawn-out cry, pulling me up by my hair just as he came, drenching my face and hair in his second hot, heavy load. “Four down!” he roared triumphantly, collapsing onto the sofa. Kian grabbed me, pushing me down between his legs. This time, he didn't even use my mouth. He forced his fully throbbing shaft into my hand and told me, “Just handjob me, whore. I want to see how fast you can do it when the job is on the line.” My arm was burning with exhaustion, but I pumped his cock relentlessly, watching the tension build on his face. After thirty seconds of brutal friction, he groaned, his eyes rolling back, and he shot his cum with a violent force onto the sheets next to my he

"Um, yeah. Perhaps that will divert my attention from... well, him. I gave a knowing nod to the young man who was squirming between my thighs and trying to shove himself into my pussycat as if it held the key to everlasting life. I encircled Donald's member with my fingers, cradling the enlarged head in my hand and giving it a series of gentle presses. I channeled the momentum into a handjob driven by our son's own frantic fucking, using his muscular, body-lurching thrusts to highlight my handstrokes. Tom helped me jerk off his dad every time he pushed into my vagina.

My hand goes to the back of his head and pushes until I hit the back of his throat. “Fuck.” I hiss, Tears stream his face and I let go of his head. He lets go of my dick with a loud pop. His hand jacks me off, slowly, he spits on my dick, keeping his eyes on mine. “What the hell are you doing to me?” I whisper, He grins, “A handjob young master, would you like me to go faster?” I inhale sharply when he gives me an example of going faster. One nod and that’s all he needs.

The way she moaned as she stroked me like she enjoyed giving me a handjob as much as I enjoyed getting one, it made me even harder, my shaft growing thicker in her grasp. I pulled her warm hand off my cock and flipped her around before I embarrassed myself. With three toddlers running around, we needed to make this quick so I slid my hands up her legs under her dress and worked my fingers into the top of her panties. I pushed them down her legs and bundled the dress over her hips. “Fuck me hard and fast.” She begged.

I continued to massage his prick "Jasmine!" He yelled out again. "Just focus," I commanded, not freeing his dick. A soughing groan escaped his mouth as I pressed him harder. I struggled with his belt buckle until I finally managed to undo it. I zip his pang open immediately and guided my hand into his pants and then his boxers, bringing his dick out and began to hand fuck him because hand job might be one of my specialties too. "Oh my.." His words appear to die in his throat when I pick up space, running my hands through his member in circular, linear, and reverse motion...

He envelops my body with his arms, his hands on my stomach. I lean back and he rests his chin on my shoulder. My left hand goes up and grabs his head as he continues to fuck me. His right hand descends before his fingers begin rubbing circles on my clit, increasing the pressure. I place my right hand over his, and my whole body shakes as I let go. Alessandro, too, only stops when he cums.

A whimper escapes me when he eases my hand away so he can have control. My breath becomes heavier at the sensation building inside me and focus on taking his pants off. When I lean forward, using his arm as support, he keeps rocking his hand against my clit and working my core with his fingers, inching deeper with each movement. My breaths hitch when he finds my most sensitive spot and concentrates the movement of his hand in slow, rhythmic circles. I unbuckle his pants, letting them fall to the floor, and move my fingertips inside his boxers. He leans into me as massage his cock with one hand, feeling it grow larger and harder with each stroke, and pulling the boxers to the floor with the o