He worked that spot with steady, focused pressure while his mouth stayed on my c**t — sucking and lapping and doing something with his tongue that I had no frame of reference for but would spend considerable time thinking about afterward — and I felt myself climbing with a speed that was almost embarrassing.
Then a second finger joined the first.
The stretch was sharper and I gasped at it and his eyes flicked up to mine immediately.
"Still good?"
"Still good —" I rocked my hips toward his hand. "So good —"
He scissored his fingers carefully, slowly stretching, making room, his mouth never pausing in its work. He built the pace of his fingers gradually until he was thrusting them in a deep steady rhythm while his tongue circled my c**t and his other forearm held my hips firmly to the m
