Ow! I mouthed.
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, telling me he loved it. And if his constant moaning was any indication, she was right.
She released him, his shaft falling heavy, bouncing on his stomach. It looked absolutely delicious laying there, twitching. I reached out, taking hold of it, lifting it, squeezing. Then, as she’d done, I circled it with my finger and thumb, though they didn’t quite reach around him, but I lifted as she’d done and then wrapped the rest of my fingers around him, squeezing, moving my hand down, smiling when he moaned.
“Feels nice, sweetheart,” he whispered.
I looked to his face, but his eyes were closed. I continued to pull the skin up and down, squeezing him as I watched his face, listened to his moans.
My gaze dropped and I watched as my mother caught another long strand of his drool on her finger, turning it this way and that, trying to gather it, and when she did she lifted it up, holding it out for me, slipping it into my mouth when I opened for her. My eyes closed, my stomach turning as I swirled my tongue around her finger, cleaning it. She pulled it free and I opened my eyes, smiling, shy.
She shook her head. “Naughty girl.”
She leaned over then, swiping her tongue over the head, gathering the drop there. He groaned then and she grabbed my wrist, pulling me away, allowing the heavy meat to drop to his stomach.
“You don’t want to get him too excited or he’ll come.”
My brows drew. “I thought that was the whole point.”
She shook her head, smiling. “You want it to last. You want to enjoy each other for as long as possible.” I nodded slowly. She pulled back, dropping her gaze. “Are you wet, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes. She laughed softly. “Let him taste you. He loves that.”
My brows drew, my head shaking. And I watched, my pulse suddenly pounding as she slipped her hand between her legs, her gaze on me. A moment later she withdrew her hand, holding her fingers up, turning them, the faint light from the window making them glisten. She reached out then, holding them under his nose, and a moment later he opened his mouth. She pushed her fingers in and, as I’d done only a couple minutes ago, he cleaned them off with his tongue, moaning as he did. She shivered, pulling them free. Then she met my gaze, one brow up.
“What if he doesn’t like the way I taste?”
She shook her head. “Not likely, sweetheart.”
My brows drew. She surprised me then, laying her hand on my thigh, up high, sliding it closer, her gaze on mine. She stopped when I bit my lip. “Okay?” she murmured. I held her gaze a moment before nodding once. “Breathe, baby.” I blew out a long breath, but it caught a moment later when her fingertips met my lips. I grabbed her arm with both hands, holding it there, shaking my head when she began to withdraw. “Breathe.” I eased my grip on her arm as I exhaled. And I held her gaze as she moved the last inch, slipping through my folds, finding the wettest part of me. “Wet,” she whispered, her voice husky. I nodded, hissing when she began to pull her fingers free, my head shaking. “Like that, baby?” I nodded, a moment later falling forward, my fingers curling into the material of her nightie as her fingers brushed against my clit, teasing it, her touch barely there, making me groan against her chest. She laughed softly then pulled her hand free. I pulled away and watched, open-mouthed, as she slipped her fingers between her lips, her gaze on mine. She shook her head, her eyes telling me what I wanted to hear.