But she couldn’t go far. I kept her pressed into the floor. This was happening, no two ways about it.
“You like that, huh,” I said. “How about this?” I slipped another finger into her wet tightness and hooked the tips against her puffy soft walls and rubbed the ridged spot of flesh I found there.
“Oh…I…yes…”
“And it’s just going to get better, you’re going to like it so much,” I said in a stern voice. “So forget about everything except what I’m doing to this greedy pussy of yours.” I half pulled out then drove in again, as deep as I could go. Rubbed that special place that had her stiffening.
She moaned, a guttural sound that told me I’d hit her internal hot spot just right.
How had no one found her buttons before? She was so damn responsive.
I steeled my resolve to have her writhing through a climax before the end of the tennis match and began to slowly fuck her with my fingers. Quiet wet noises accompanied each movement, and her skin flushed from her shoulders to her ass cheeks.
“So wet and juicy for me,” I said. “For my fingers.”
“What…are you going to…?”
She tried to sit again, but once more I pinned her to the floor. “Am I going to what?”
“Fuck me, your cock…I…”
“No, you’re not getting my cock, little girl, you get my fingers. Now concentrate, this is what Daddy wants from you.”
“Oh, but I…”
I pressed my lips to her temple. “Stop thinking and feel or you’ll be over my knee for a spanking before you get any more of this.” I pumped my fingers the way I’d pump my cock if I was fucking. Firm, deep strokes that promised no stopping.
She groaned long and low. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d sped up or the idea of a spanking had hit another button in her psyche.
Fuck, I should have ditched my jeans before starting this. Touching Amy when wearing denims was bloody uncomfortable.
* * * *
Amy
Heaven help me, I was being held hostage in the sweetest most torturous of ways. Pinned to the floor and being finger-fucked by some goddamn maestro who was playing my body like a fine instrument.
How did he know about that sweet spot inside me? My vibe could find it, but no man had, and now…oh now he was ramming into me, two, three fingers, and pushing me to thepoint of explosion. Each time he entered he rubbed over that place that made me want to pee then orgasm.
“You will come, Amy,” he said gruffly. “Even if we have to do this all night.” He was breathless. He was pumping in and out of me. A goddamn jackhammer. There was real energy behind his movements. “Don’t think I’m gonna stop, right, this is all for you, take it.”
Thoughts tried to tumble into my brain. The tennis, work, food, but I fought them away. This was the closest I’d ever been to an orgasm with a guy, and I wasn’t going to let that thread of hope escape me. I battled to regain my concentration, harness that delicious pressure growing in my pelvis.
I squirmed to the left but found myself prisoner, his dominant, steely hold giving me nowhere to go.
He was right. I did have to take this. He was so determined.
Sweat popped on my brow. I curled my toes and arched my spine. I was so wet, leaking into his palm, onto the carpet, too, most likely. And the energy it was ballooning, expanding. My entire pelvis a catapult about to release. I opened my mouth, panting, gasping, no words forming.
“Come for Daddy!” he said.
I held my breath; the point of no return was so close. Oh, if he stopped now I’d die, I was sure of it. “Oh…Oh…Oh…”
“Come!”
I did. It almost caught me by surprise it was so swift and strong once it did decide to release. My body convulsed. I cried out and spasmed around his fingers. My fists balled so tight my fingernails dug into my palms and bright lights flashed behind my closed eyelids.
He kept on going, no letup, finding every last drip and shred of pleasure in my pussy.
