Slipping Through My Fingers Novels & Stories

Instead, he kept his distance, giving me a taste but not the entire thing. His fingers continued to move with rhythm, passion, intensity, and speed, and my body trembled and shook. I couldn’t even moan at this point, I went silent, only small whimpers making their way out of my mouth, begging him to bring me the ultimate release I craved. His fingers, my god, his fingers! They were the literal definition of heaven.

Michael whispered, his voice thick with desire. Reluctantly, I obeyed, slowly parting my legs again, exposing my slick heat to his eager fingers. He wasted no time, rubbing against my swollen labia before sliding his fingers inside. The intrusion was slow at first, his fingers moving in and out with practiced ease. But then, he added another finger, and then another, each one stretching me further.

In me. My middle and ring finger slipped inside of me and I had to bite my lip to muffle a moan from slipping out from the stretch. It wasn't enough— it never was, but it still was able to give me a small amount of pleasure that was absolutely maddening. It felt like I was teasing myself. My fingers were short, so no matter how hard I tried to reach that spot, it wasn't even close to touching it. Still, I slipped my fingers in and out, creating a tempo, using the slight friction to create arousal.

Of horrible things sliding down the hall, toward my bedroom, shuffling, slithering, sliding . But never getting any closer. And somehow, I think I can hold it at bay . . . as long as I keep writing. Enough for now. Time to sleep. I can only hope that I’ve written enough, and that the sliding won’t come any closer tonight.

My fingers flex, tracing slow lines over myself, teasing, desperate. “Fuck…” I groan, voice low and shaking. My other hand tangles in the sheets as I start, tentative at first, letting my mind drift further, imagining the heat of her skin, the tremble of her hips under my hands. My core pulses, and I press harder, rolling my thumb over the sensitive head, desperate for friction.

“Keep dripping like that and I’m gonna slip another finger in.” My head fell back, legs spread obscenely wide on the desk, skirt bunched around my waist. The cool air hit my soaked pussy as she worked three thick fingers deeper, curling them just right. I was soaked, leaking all over her hand and the desk. “Do it,” I begged even with my voice shaking. She didn’t hesitate. The moment the words left my mouth, she pushed a fourth finger inside me. The stretch burned so good. My legs shook uncontrollably, trying to open wider to take her. I grabbed her wrist on instinct, completely overwhelmed.

The air kisses my wet, exposed flesh, and I shudder. His fingers glide through my slick folds, parting me. A single fingertip finds my swollen clit and circles it in a slow, maddening tease. A broken moan escapes me, echoing faintly in the vast room. I press my hips back, seeking more, but he denies me, his touch light and infuriatingly deliberate.

My fingers trembled on my phone, pretending to scroll. Then her voice shattered through again: “Don’t stop, please, please, Rafe, more.” The Slip I was soaked. And I hated myself for it. No. That’s a lie. I loved it. I slid my hand down beneath the hem of my oversized T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing panties. I hadn’t planned for this just laundry day laziness, but now it felt like fate. I angled my hips slightly, leaned forward, and slid two fingers through my folds. Wet. Slippery. My own scent already rising to my nose like arousal confessing itself.

I whispered, gripping the sheets gently, and just as I said, he slipped another finger in, earning a sharp moan from me. His fingers stretched my insides, moving in what felt like a scissoring rhythm and my body responded to every thrust, jerking against his fingers. “Aaron…” I cried out when I felt the tip of his finger brush against something that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. “I still gotta stretch you out some more, love. Can't risk hurting you.” He muttered, pouring more lube over his fingers and on my hole, and I let out shaky moans of pleasure.

Sliding a third finger in, caused her to gasp and pause her movements until her body adjusted to the intrusion. Slipping my fingers from her, she looked down to see me cleaning my fingers. Her face went red, “You taste amazing,” I told her. She looked at me in awe, as I moved back up her body, kissing her and allowing her to taste herself on my lips. Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling my hardness towards her.