Page 71 of Unwrapping Love

“Of course I have,” she said, swatting his leg. “I just admitted it. But I’ve never done it with someone watching.”

“Do it with me. Have it be a first.”

He was reaching for her shorts and undoing them. She was laughing and letting him take them off with her underwear. Then he went for her shirt. She undid her bra.

“I’ve done a lot of firsts with you. Aren’t you going to get undressed too?”

“Sure,” he said. He stripped and the two of them were back in their original positions, only wearing their birthday suits. “Show me what you did when we were apart.”

“This is hard,” she said.

His eyes went down to his stiff dick. “Yes, it is.”

She giggled. “I meant for me.”

“Pretend I’m not here.”

He turned on his side, then leaned on his elbow.

“Oh yeah, really easy with you staring at me.”

He grabbed her hand in his and brought it between her legs. Together they touched her, he felt her wetness, telling him without words she felt what he was.

He moved her hand to get going. “Close your eyes and just feel,” he whispered and dropped his hand away.

He watched as she did what he’d told her to.

Her middle finger was sliding between her lips, then up and circling the little tender bundle of hers that he’d love nothing more than to put his lips on.

Looking up, he saw her nipples were hard and she licked her lip.

This was such an erotic sight that would be burned in his memory banks for an eternity.

She let out a moan and he looked down again to see exactly what she was doing. He wanted to know what felt the best for her.

She was circling her swollen flesh at the top, her hips lifting and grinding against her hand as she did it.

“That’s it,” he said. “Keep it up. Come for me. Did you think of my voice while you did?”

Her head nodded, her eyes still closed. Whatever worked for her.

Her breathing increased, her fingers moving faster.

He wanted to join in, but this was her rodeo and he wasn’t allowed to get on for a ride just yet.

“I’m close,” she said.

“Finish for me,” he said. “Just like that. Do what you are, but imagine it’s my hands on you.”

“That’s what I did,” she said. She was groaning, her legs stiff, her hips lifted, her hand pressing down as she came.

Jesus Christ, he might come just watching this, but he couldn’t turn his head either.

When her body collapsed on the bed, she opened her eyes to look at him.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Exhausted. But in a good way. It’s your turn.”