Slipping Through My Fingers Novels & Stories

My fingers were nearly transparent now. He froze when he realized what I was doing. “Sheila,” he said desperately. “Don’t.” “I need to,” I replied. I reached for his face. This time, my hand didn’t pass through. My fingertips brushed his cheek, just barely. His breath hitched violently. He leaned into the touch instinctively, his eyes squeezing shut, as if he was afraid that if he looked at me, I would disappear faster. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For lyiny and for...”

I groaned quietly when her fingers slipped to my bulge and pulled away, trailing my hands down her sides to remove her underwear. She choked on a low moan when my hand cupped her warmth, fingers slipping between the folds. “You’re already soaked,” I murmured, voice husky, dipping one of my fingers into her, quiet pants escaping her mouth. Her back arched, a low moan slipping from her as I slowly worked my fingers inside her. Slowly, teasingly, I let my finger slip between her folds over and over

His fingers, long and deft, began to caress my skin, tracing slow, deliberate circles that seemed to ignite a fire within me. As his hand crept upwards, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, I felt my heart skip a beat. His touch was like a whispered promise, sending waves of anticipation coursing through my veins. And then, his fingers pressed against my core through the fabric, applying gentle pressure that left me breathless.

His fingers felt so thick and long inside of me as they screwed themselves into me. My slippery wetness allowed his fingers to smoothly slide into me until their entire lengths were buried deep inside of my throbbing love hole. I moaned at the pleasure of his fingers stretching and then penetrating into me. His fingers began moving in and out of my hole while I cried out from the pleasure. The sensation of his fingers prodding against the walls of my pussy made my legs go weak. I could feel his fingers everywhere inside of me as he continued stroking his pussy along my insides.

His slender fingers passed through her fingertips and were tightly connected to her ten fingers. In this invisible gentleness, the temperature in the car seemed to rise gradually.

The moment the procedure slip hit the floor, Solana instinctively snatched it up and stuffed it away as quickly as she could. However, Isaiah's sharp eyes had already caught sight of the words "procedure slip" on the paper. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it had jumped to her throat, and she could even hear the thumping of her heart in her ears. She fumbled for a moment, trying to come up with something believable. Finally, she mumbled, "It's nothing; it's just a simple dental procedure. Dr. Bates said I should take care of any dental issues early during pregnancy, or it'll cause trouble later."

Then I put the head of my fingers at the inside of me, torturing myself. “Oh, Lucien, add another finger,” I said to myself, trying to push in another finger when a finger that doesn't belong to me slipped in and snapped my attention to reality.

My fingers slip between her legs, teasing her, rubbing circles around her clit, coaxing her body to respond even as her mind sleeps. Her soft whimpers grow louder, and my groan joins them as my fingers dip lower. Her eyes flutter open as I slide two fingers inside her, her body arching instinctively. She gasps, a sweet, broken cry of pleasure spilling from her lips. Her hands push at me, weakly resisting, but her hips betray her, grinding closer, taking me deeper.

The sound slipped out before I caught it. The wetness was sinful. My fingers slid through my folds like I was preparing it for something far more substantial than my own hand. I spread my index and middle fingers apart. Rubbed either side of my lips simultaneously. My hips tilted forward seeking more friction. I gave it to them. The sensation shot straight to my clit. My thighs trembled. My walls clenched around nothing so desperately. Fuck! "Desmond…" I breathed to the ceiling. Not a prayer. Just a name escaping a body that missed its handler.

I whispered. The second knuckle slipped in easily because of how slick I was. No lube. No nothing. Just my own body producing this obscene wetness that coated my finger and dripped down toward my balls. I crooked the finger, searching, and when I brushed over a spot inside me that made sparks explode behind my eyes, a loud, broken moan tore out of my throat. I added a second finger.