“You’re wet,” he said, pulling her back down onto the couch, working his ring finger into her, sliding them in and out steadily, keeping the pressure up on her clit.
“Please, don’t,” she panted. “I can’t stand it.”
“You’re not supposed to stand it,” Fletcher said gently, pushing hard up into her and adding his pinky finger. “All I want you to do is lie there and take it…feel it, Sarah. Let it happen.” Sarah lay on her back, head resting on the sofa’s arm. Fletcher reached for the bottle of lotion with his free hand.
“What are you doing?”
His fingers were all the way into her cunt, forced into a curled half-fist by the back of her womb. Fletcher pumped lotion over the knuckles, tucking his thumb into his palm. He pushed harder, twisting a little back and forth to stretch the thick-lippe
