Slipping Through My Fingers Novels & Stories

His eyes held mine, demanding an unbroken connection as he continued, "Keep your focus on me as I fuck you with my fingers." His words sent a shiver through me, a mix of anticipation and trepidation. It seemed nearly implausible, as I was already stretched by the presence of his two robust fingers. I yearned to ask him a question, to inquire about the feasibility of this endeavor, but time slipped away as his intention came to fruition. Another digit was introduced within me, accompanied by a momentary pang of discomfort. However, he skillfully manipulated his fingers, orchestrating a dance that transformed the initial discomfort into a crescendo of pleasure.

It is presently the arms and body of the one I love the most. Did I simply suppose the word love? Alert glimmers through me, however at that point vanquishes as fast as it comes. My eyes are shut, the obscurity tranquil. I can feel it coming, framing in my mind. It is there, if, by some stroke of good luck, I can get a handle on it. Out of nowhere the shackles break, and it slips from between my fingertips. My head snaps back, and afterward, I feel myself sinking so rapidly...

"Can you also grab me that piece of china?" I skip to the shelves again and grab the expensive-looking piece of china he's pointing at with his index finger. As soon as I reach his side, something happens, and I fumble with the grip of my fingers around the varnished, silky smooth surface of the plate, and the delicate plate slips from the hold of my index finger and thumb.

he murmured. His touch was skilled, knowing exactly what I needed. I couldn’t help but whimper as he slipped his middle finger inside me, stretching me slowly but surely. I could hear the ripping sound of the fabric as my scrubs gave way under his rough grip. His thick digit filled me up, and I arched into it, demanding more. My mind screamed at me to stop this, but my body refused to listen.

N o one will hold me cause it's mine isn't it? I thought still hitting it while I enjoy how slippery it felt in my hand till my finger got slide inside making me let out a moan. It felt so good and great, this new out come is great, I thought moving it like I do feel Maxwell does. Yet, I didn't stop, I continue in my thoughts whike I slide in my finger touching while I let out a breaking shaking breath going on like that,

I felt myself becoming increasingly wet with desire. He mingled his saliva with my essence, creating a unique dance where only we could hear the enchanting music. Minutes seemed to blur as he tantalized and teased, until I felt something enter me. I struggled to find the words to describe it, realizing they were his fingers. I knew that soon, an unstoppable force would consume me. His fingers moved in and out, exploring various rhythms and speeds, always leading to the same destination. I could sense his breath against my ear, his fingers still strumming me with skilled precision.

Lily’s POV My fingers were slipping. Sweat poured down my palms in a continuous, useless stream, making the metal window frame slick and almost impossible to hold. Every second the burn in my arms grew worse. My shoulders screamed.My wrists trembled so violently I was afraid they would give out .The wind kept shoving at my body like it wanted me gone. Mia leaned in close, her hand placed on my slippery hands When she spoke, her voice was a soft, almost tender whisper the kind of voice people use when they share secrets. But the words were pure madness.

My heart beat fast. He didn't answer. His fingers continued to move. They went under the strap. They nudged it. Slowly. Gently. It slipped off my shoulder. My tank top drooped. My breast was still covered. But it was close. So close to being out. My breath hitched.

I want to reply with something sarcastic, but I can’t find my voice. He pulls those fingers out and traces a path along my slit, finding my clit. His touch is feather-light, almost teasing, but it sends shivers through me. I rotate my hips, pushing into his hand, begging for more. His fingers move in time with my movements, stroking me in a rhythm that has me on the edge. “Oh, god,” I say. His fingers travel down again, and he buries them in me, while his thumb still strokes my clit at a relentless pace. I feel him arching those two fingers, finding that magical spot again. As he strokes it, I feel myself climbing higher and higher.

Touch yourself for me. Slide your fingers between your legs and feel how fucking soaked you are. Feel the slick, slippery heat coating your fingertips as you stroke your swollen clit in slow circles. That little jolt of pleasure when you press harder… that’s me. That deep, aching throb inside your pussy when you push two fingers in… that’s me owning you from afar, even though I’m not physically there.