The Grinders Manual Novels & Stories

) I already have a planned plot to Stonegrim but putting all the pieces together will really take some time to finish, but no worries, I always spend my free time working on this. Anyways, this book is a novel-type-ish... Like, it doesn't come with that "name-of-person's POV" every start of the chapter. So yeah, just a heads up (っ´▽')っ Edit: So I haven't been able to update for months, had a lot of stuff happening especially when 2020 got into the scene. Been busy as well with dealing lots of personal stuff. Hopefully y'all won't mind my cringey Author's note inserted here in the middle of the chapters. This is more of me tryna get myself together while creating this novel lol. Really am loo

Glancing towards King Zahir, I observed his focused demeanor, his attention still fixed on the documents before him. Time seemed to blur as I immersed myself in the rhythmic motion of grinding, the repetitive strokes soothing my senses. The act of grinding ink was a silent art, a dance between tradition and precision. With each stroke, I marveled at the transformation of the inkstick, its solid form slowly disintegrating into a pool of rich, dark ink.

Zach groaned, stroking his hard cock as he watched us. I gasped sharply the moment our pussies made contact. It was hot, slippery, and messy. Our swollen clits rubbed together perfectly as we started grinding slowly. The obscene, wet sounds of our juices mixing filled the room. “Oh my god…” Tess moaned, rolling her hips against mine. Her slick folds slid against my own, our combined cum from Zach’s cum making everything slippery and filthy. Zach knelt beside us, eyes glued to the sight. “That’s it. Grind those greedy little cunts together. Let me see how wet you both get for me.”

It was a few seconds of staring between them when all of a sudden he turned on the grinder and she again screamed in horror as she tried to pull her hand back in reflex but the grip was too strong. He again turned off and turned it on three times speeder than the last time all the while looking at her and she screamed in fear as he sometimes would pull her hand away and then dive it all the way inside the grinder suddenly causing her to panic.

We both gasp as he fills me completely. I stay still, savoring the fullness. His hands find my hips, gripping tightly. "Move," he demands, voice barely recognizable. "I don't think so." I place my hands on his chest and roll my hips—slow, grinding circles that drag him against every sensitive spot inside me. Not thrusting. Just grinding. His head falls back, a guttural moan spilling from his lips. I find my rhythm. Rise up until he's almost out, then sink back down in one fluid motion. Slow. Teasing. Maddening. Each time I bottom out, I grind in a tight circle before rising again.

He ground against me, riding out his release, his groans mixing with the crowd's cheers. Instead of pulling out, Zade began to roll of his hips. Every thick inch dragged against my oversensitive walls, stirring the mess of his cum and my slick into a filthy, wet glide. The slow grind kept me stretched and full, never letting the ache fade, never letting my body come down.

Already rocking in sync with the tune, the grinder began to dance. The crowd clapped along to the rhythm. The fellow came closer, his body managing a mad jig badly at odds with the beat of the music he played. Kathy backed away when she saw the exhaustion on the man’s face. Sweat was pouring down his scalp and over his eyes, probably all but blinding him as he continued his performance. Looking around, Kathy saw some members of his audience begin to mimic his movements, dancing close enough to drop a coin into the little container fixed to the top of the organ. The grinder danced more wildly with each donation. His extra effort brought Kathy’s attention to the soles threatening to tear loose

Her fingers crawl through my body as she grinds beneath me. A moan escapes my parted lips as I grind harder. Our hands play with each other's bodies. She reaches for my panty, and we both take it off. I send her lying back on the bed, our clit meets. With my fingers wrap around her neck, I grind my clit on hers, fucking her hard. The sensation is crazy as she grinds beneath me like a beast. We grip ourselves, crying and grinding hard. “Please, don’t let go of me,” her lips quiver as she begs.

Grinding the heel of his hand against my clit, he continued working me over with his finger, keeping a steady rhythm that changed the moment he slipped in a second. His movements became erratic after that, desperate almost. He’d grind the heel of his palm into my clit hard enough to make my eyes roll, curling his fingers in a way that had me whining against his hand. Then, without giving me a moment to recover, he’d withdraw his fingers almost completely before slamming them back inside, stretching my tight opening and smacking my clit with his palm.