Slipping Through My Fingers Novels & Stories

I wanted her to keep going, to keep feeding my mind with her whispery words of wanton suggestion. "Again you feel his thick fingers spreading your lips apart, pushing into you and reaching achingly for something that isn't there. It's empty, and it needs to be filled. It needs to be filled with something strong and hard, pushing deeper, and then pulling back . . . pushing in . . . and pulling out. Can you feel his fingers in you Grace?" "Oh my god I feel them Stace, they're in me!" I was sliding down an icy hill and pulling my legs up to help me gain speed. There was no turning back.

I bite my lip and stare at the elevator doors, watching my reflection flicker under the harsh light. So much is slipping through my fingers. And I’m not sure I’m strong enough to keep pretending I can hold it all together.

She smiled and walked away seductively with lust in her eyes. I stared at my cell. There was one simple word in the message, "Rooftop." It felt like I had lost control of myself as I walked out of the rowdy crowd robotically toward the fourth floor. Even though I knew what I was about to witness, it still hurt me tremendously. Willow's moans and Eric's grunts rang in my ear. "You're so impatient, Eric. This is the storeroom…" Eric heaved Willow up in the air. I could see her hanging onto Eric from the door's creak.

My breath itches I want more I want more of it. “ now gently slide your fingers over your aunties.” I do as I am told, my fingers rub my moist area.

I sucked in a breath, unsure of why he was doing this. “Relax,” he murmured. The word relax sounded like an alien word because smoothly and slowly, his fingers slid higher until they found their way into my panties.

“Slippery. I… I can’t think straight.” “You don’t need to think.” I sped up, hips lifting off the cushion just a fraction. “Just listen to me. Imagine it’s my thick, rough fingers instead. Pressing right where you need it. Then imagine it’s my cock—pushing in slow at first, stretching you till you’re gasping like you did just now.” A soft, desperate moan filtered through the line.

"Open your legs a little." I shouldn't have. I knew I shouldn't have. But I did, and his fingers slipped under the fabric and found me already soaked. His breath caught against my ear as he slid through my folds slowly, coating his fingers before circling my clit with a pressure so light it made my thighs tremble against his hand.

The kind of cold that slips under your skin. I frowned slightly. Why is it so cold? I kept walking anyway. Left. Right. Forward. The hallway seemed longer than before. Much longer. My eyes kept shifting from side to side, watching every shadow. Every corner. Every movement of light. Then— My foot missed a step. “Ah—!” I slipped. My body dropped forward— —and I caught myself against the wall just in time. My heart jumped. “Okay… okay…” I whispered, breathing out slowly. Focus.

The last time I thought my fingers could help me down there, I left with a burn. It apparently hadn't wanted anything there. Not even my own fingers. Testing the waters a little, I allowed my finger to swim at the surface. Not too deep so it didn't drown. “You taste like ambrosia.” His words like a haunting lullaby echoed in my mind, along with thoughts of his wicked tongue. I didn't notice when my hand slipped in, and began to move. Not until the sensation became too great to ignore. “Oh God!” I moaned out, both surprised by the penetration of my own finger, and high of the pleasure provided.

should I try going inside? With her eyes screwed shut, she slowly inserted her middle finger into her slit, making her shudder in the sudden wave of strange bliss. It felt good. She began moving it back and forth, her finger sliding effortlessly through her velvet sleeve. Her fluttering breaths became deep pants, with her muscles expanding and contracting and making her writhe and stretch. 'Oh God, oh God, oh God!'