She couldn't account for what came over her, with him. Perhaps it was the pregnancy, making everything more intense - or maybe it was just his attention, his wanting that made her own so acute. Like something finally allowed, to be free and wanting and hungry all her own.
She stretches one long leg into his touch, flexing her muscles taught in his hold, and let her other knee fall further apart. Still her fingers twist, thrust into herself, quicker as he moved closer, her arousal starting to more freely drip around her fingers. With it the longer, clearer moan creeps out of her, driving her fingers in deeper that time.
Until the angle, and the bump she has to curve with, won't let her do more. There she stops, whines, a replication of her previous efforts she described. Only so deep she could get.
"Sweeney," comes the name again, but more in frustrated whine, breath hitched, trying to move quicker to make up for the lack of depth. That as he gets closer, sees for himself, she slips a third finger in.
no subject
She stretches one long leg into his touch, flexing her muscles taught in his hold, and let her other knee fall further apart. Still her fingers twist, thrust into herself, quicker as he moved closer, her arousal starting to more freely drip around her fingers. With it the longer, clearer moan creeps out of her, driving her fingers in deeper that time.
Until the angle, and the bump she has to curve with, won't let her do more. There she stops, whines, a replication of her previous efforts she described. Only so deep she could get.
"Sweeney," comes the name again, but more in frustrated whine, breath hitched, trying to move quicker to make up for the lack of depth. That as he gets closer, sees for himself, she slips a third finger in.