Give Me Your Hand Film Novels & Stories

For a terrifying second I thought I might lose him, but both feeds stayed open. “Take your hand out of your pants, pathetic simp,” he ordered. I obeyed instantly, shoving my sweatpants down. On the second screen, his small hands gripped a large, realistic dildo close to the camera. On the main screen, he leaned in so his perfect face filled the frame. Those big brown eyes looked so innocent, even as his full lips curled in judgment and he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

She didn't understand why he suddenly held her hand so tightly. "I'm sorry." He quickly released her hand but didn't let go entirely. He held onto it gently yet stubbornly, using his thumb to lightly stroke the palm of her hand. Angela Zylian stared in confusion, forgetting to pull her hand back. She let the man repeatedly stroke her palm, allowing his large hand's warmth and electric current to pass into her own, slowly seeping into her heart. "Do you want to go out for a meal together?" Jacky Forger bent down slightly, his warm breath brushing her ear, sending a tingling sensation down her spine, causing her to shiver slightly and instinctively pull her hand back.

The director shouted, "Cut! Did we get that? Reflexes of a cat! Amazing!" Elion stared at Cale’s hand. He stared at the closed fist that had just engulfed a lit candle. "Open your hand," Elion whispered. Cale looked at him. "It's fine." "Open it." Cale opened his hand. There was soot on his palm. There was dried, white wax. But there was no burn. No blister. No red mark. The skin was pale and perfect. Elion reached out. He touched Cale’s palm. It was cool.

I moaned while kissing him, and I felt Philp's hands dip down to touch my cl*t through the fabric of my panties. "F*ck! You are wet," he growled, and I quivered. The thought of four hands on my body took me over the edge, and I was shaking. I dipped my hands into their shorts and grabbed their c*cks. Both men groaned as I worked their long, fat, hard c*cks in my hands. Philp plunged his hands in my pants and touched my cl*t. All I could do was moan. The ache was too damn much.

“One more. You’re going to come for me again before the credits. And you’re going to stay quiet while you do it.” I nodded once, tiny and desperate. He made the third one last. He edged me for what felt like the entire final act of the film—bringing me close, backing off, spreading my own wetness over my clit and then denying the direct pressure I needed. My thighs were sticky. My skirt was bunched uselessly around my waist. I was open and dripping and completely at the mercy of his hand in the dark.

My hands lingered on her cheeks, touching and caressing every inch, until my sister abruptly turned over. "Thanks," she said, smiling at the rigidity of my cock, as she leaned back and spread her legs. "Let's make a movie, Ronnie." I wiped my hands on a towel and reached for the camera. When we were done, Maryanne handed me the baby oil and told me it was my turn. While she relaxed on the chaise lounge, I poured oil onto my hands and started stroking my cock, another first for me. I enjoyed the slipperiness as I vigorously worked my hands all over my cock and balls. Maryanne lay spread-eagle on her lounge chair watching me. It was extremely arousing, staring at her wet pussy and oil-soaked b

But not everyone. "I know what I saw," a guy near the back said, holding up his phone. "I got it on video. Her hands were literally glowing." "Let me see," Lucien said, extending his hand. The guy hesitated, then handed over his phone. Lucien watched the video, his expression neutral. Then, faster than any human could move, he deleted it. "Hey!" "Oops," Lucien said mildly, handing back the phone. "Butter fingers. So sorry."

-Mina- I tried to stay focused on the movie, but every time his fingers moved or he adjusted his hand, it made me want him more. Either I had turned red, or he could read my mind. His hand traveled a little higher, making my breath catch in my throat. I looked down at his hand and then at him. I was met with eyes that said what the silence didn’t.

Those mischievous eyes call to me, and my cock is hardening, jerking, as I watch more and more arrive like a stop motion movie. Of her hand cupping her breast. Pulling down her shirt, her nipple peeking through her fingers. Her hand tracing down her stomach to small, lace panties, her legs bare. I pull out my cock, holding the phone one handed as I watch them come through. I stroke myself, groaning at the sight of her hand slipping into her panties. Then I see it—her pink glistening pussy. But my phone goes quiet. I thumb back through the messages, stroking myself leisurely until a video arrives.

“Against the tiles. I want to watch your face while I break you completely.” Alex’s protest died in his throat as the bigger man pushed him across the wet floor toward the large open wall of white tiles near the showers. The surface was cool and slick under his palms when Jax forced him to brace against it, chest pressed flat, ass pushed out invitingly. The position left him completely exposed—legs spread, back arched, his slender cock hanging soft but twitching between his legs.