Open Your Legs Novels & Stories

As soon as his lips touched mine, I felt every muscle in my body stiffen. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue through my mouth with a ravenous rhythm. Without breaking the kiss, he lift me up and lead my legs around his waist. We hear the dress rip along the sides of both my legs but we couldn’t care less. Before I could think of it, I felt my back touching the bed as he positioned himself between my tights without breaking the kiss.

“You wouldn't want me to repeat myself, do you?” I still didn't respond nor made a move, he leaned down, his hands pressed against my thighs, urging me to open. “Spread them,” he repeated, his voice commanding yet smooth. Slowly, I let my legs part, my breaths coming in shallow gasps, feeling both exposed and surrendered to him.

I distinctly remember the sound of a door opening and closing with a thud. “Tell me how are you laying down?” I take a deep breath, “My breasts are hanging beneath the water and my legs are clenched together because your voice turns me on” I say truthfully, I think he gulps because he goes quite for a few moments. “Touch yourself for me, baby” oh! That voice of his, I should have recorded it before he left.

His heart was about to leap out of his chest, looking at the group of more than ten that pounced at him. He then heard the mysterious voice say, "Swipe the legs of the front few people with your own leg. You have to be accurate, committed, and fast. Your leg must not touch the floor…"

“Spread your legs and rest your feet on the table edge and before you try to overthink it, let me remind you that we now have ten minutes max before someone comes walking through that door.” A feeling of uneasiness and desire swept through my body at the same time and I could feel the familiar quake start at my toes and work its way up. I closed my eyes briefly before opening them again. I placed first one leg and then the other on the table, keeping my legs as close as possible. “Don’t fuck with me,” he barked.

I was about to whine when Uncle David suddenly held my legs with both hands and pulled me to the edge of the bed. ‎He went on his knees and spread my legs so wide. ‎"Spread your legs wider and hold them with your hands," David commanded. ‎I did just that as I widened my legs apart and held them wide open with my two arms under each of my knees. I felt more open and exposed to Mr David, and the bright light that was shining from above the room didn't help matters.

My hair fans out like spilled ink. He moves to stand between my knees. “Lift your shift.” My hands shake as I gather the linen, draw it up my thighs. Higher. Higher. Until the fabric bunches at my waist. Cool air kisses the bare skin between my legs. I’m exposed. Completely. His eyes darken. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Open,” he says. “Show the altar what belongs to it.” My thighs part—slow, trembling. The position feels obscene, sacred, impossible.

’ I take her pen, write just beneath it. ‘Open your legs wider. Now.’ Her eyes go wide instantly, and I smirk. I lean in slightly and say, keeping my voice low. “I asked you to open your legs, not your eyes.”

It's coming, the tingling that leads to an explosion. “Open your legs,” he whispered, “the tip of the spear” thumping against the outside of my thigh. The thought of it made me groan louder than ever. I don't know what's going on with me anymore. Just know that I need to open my legs. “More broadly,” he whispers and I do.

I hesitated. Unknown: Do it. Uncross your legs, let the ache spread. Feel how empty you are without me. My hand shook, and the air in the room felt suddenly thin. Slowly, terrifyingly, I obeyed. I uncrossed my legs under the table, planting my feet flat on the floor, opening my thighs slightly. The sensation filled me immediately, the damp heat between my legs flared, no longer contained by the pressure of my crossed limbs, and I felt him.