“Fuck, you’re making me so wet.”
He grinned. “Am I?”
God he smelled good.
“Yes, look.” I put my finger inside to show him. I liked how it felt, but when I moaned, it was for his pleasure. I wanted him to look at me that certain way, like he’s lost in his own body. I like to be desired, and I like to please. Especially this man.
As I pulled my finger out, I slid it along my lips and up to my clit, careful to collect as much of my dampness as I could. I wanted to show him how much he turned me on. I wanted to watch him as he saw how wet he makes me.
Just a small lamp lit my room, but when I held my finger up, I could see my juice glistening and running down. I showed him and his eyes got that restless look that reminded me of lightning, or an animal taken by surprise. More spilled out of my pussy and I felt it trickling onto my thighs.
I held my hand out like a gift. I wanted him to smell me, and I wanted to touch his lips.