As I lifted off him, gliding up to his tip, he bounced his hips, giving me short, hard thrusts, flicking my c**t like his fingers were his tongue.
“Someone’s getting so f*****g close.”
I was so overtaken by these swirls inside my body that my back fell against his chest. But I didn’t stop moving. I used his muscles to push off, to grind over him.
Like this was a dance.
His breaths were my music; his fingers were my beat, each tugging at my orgasm.
“Make me come, Jo.”
And his words were my fuel.
I held his thighs, sliding to his tip and then burying his d**k to the base. With each dip, I moved faster. Pleasure was spreading through me and through him, so obvious in his moans.
“You’re getting tighter.” His fingers bit into me. “You’re going to f*****g come again.”
Wanting him to fee
