That Will Make You Wet Novels & Stories

I was all ears, I was ready to get hit with a dose of mischief. “It means make up sex, the greatest sex to ever exist! You're going to be smiling and drooling in ecstasy by the time you're done. I'm happy for you, I'm happy for this, babes.” Closing my eyes in mock horror, I groaned, trying my best to sound irritated and annoyed.

“I’m touching myself thinking about you. Fuck, I wish I could slip my fingers inside you. Feel how wet you are.” I let out a sound that is a mix between a squeak and a moan. I’m not brave enough to show myself slipping my fingers into my panties, but I do as I’m told. I tease myself, letting them drift into the cotton but not touching the spot where I need relief quite yet. “Touch yourself and tell me how wet you are for me. Use your words.”

It made pleasure ripple through me like a heavy tidal wave. I found myself shooting my ass back, increasing the ferocity as his member slid through. My pussy juice leaked out more coating his cock, acting as a lubricant. “Fuck,” I muttered. This was hotter than my dream. His cock was warm against my clit, even warmer than his fingers. Any time the tip of cock brushed the edge of my clit, a shiver shot through me. Laura’s moan kept coming, getting louder, making my body tremble more. I wished I could see them, too see how Aiden sucked her. To have them watch me too.

it is wet, isn't it? LonelyGirl: Soaking 🥵🥵🥵 LimberJack: That's what I like to hear. Mine. Who made you soaking wet? LonelyGirl: You. LimberJack: That's right. Now put it on a different setting sweetheart we are going to try something new tonight.

“You think I’m an actress? Fine. Let’s see how you handle the final act.” I turned away from both of them. I didn't run. I walked with the slow, rhythmic grace of a woman going to a coronation. “Maggie! Where are you going?” Edison shouted. I didn't answer. I stepped into the surf. The water was freezing, a shock of reality against the numbness of my skin. The foam swirled around my ankles, pulling at the black silk. The water hit my knees, the heavy fabric dragging me down, making it harder to move.

“That’s how wet you’ve made me. I’m dripping, I’m fucking dripping for you.” His growl makes me clench tighter. “Fuck yes, I can hear it. You’re soaking your sheets, aren’t you? My dirty girl making a puddle just from my voice.” “Yes,” I whimper, fingers plunging faster. “It’s everywhere. I’m a mess.” “Rub your clit with your other hand. I want you fucking yourself open while you grind down like I’m underneath you. Ride it, baby.” I do it, circling my clit while pumping my fingers deep, my body convulsing. “I can’t—oh god, I can’t stop—”

When she straddled it, I rubbed it back and forth through her folds, "You're really wet...drippy girl." She blushed, "I am a drippy girl...you know...I can't help it. I even get wet in class, if I happen to think about you...or sex with you." I grinned, "I love it...just means your horny...nothing wrong with wet and horny." She giggled with a sexy smile, "It's all your fault...you make me wet and horny."

“Is this who you are? Someone who breaks her promises?” I shake my head, feverish, panting. “Good girl. Fingers,” he orders. “Now.” I shove my hand down my underwear with no grace. “Oh my God.” It’s just . . . so much. Way too much. “Why am I so wet?” “It’s normal,” he says. “You’re going to need it.” “F- for what?” He exhales against my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Just touch yourself.”

Then somewhat more urgently, “Is yours…wet too?” “Yeah, it really is.” Here is what amazed me. When I whispered back that I was really wet, I felt myself get wetter as I was speaking. “Is talking about this making you wetter?” I asked. “I think I’ve been like this since this afternoon.” She hissed back, “But in reply to your question, talking about it is definitely making me wetter.” A minute or two passed and then working up my courage I asked, “Heather?” “Yeah?”

"Let me make you cum." I slip two fingers inside myself, curling them, thrusting in a manner that mimics what I imagine his cock would feel like. Water pounds against my back, steam filling my lungs, making everything hazy and intense. I bite down on my arm to muffle the cries building in my throat, but his name slips out anyway… broken, needy "Theo..."