Page 42 of Judge's Mercy

“Be sure to tell me if anything is uncomfortable or painful. That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”

“If there’s one thing I know about you, Judge, it’s that you’d never intentionally hurt me. But yeah, I’ll let you know.”

I can’t see him, but I know hearing it would make him happy. “That pleases me to hear.”

After one last stroke up, I lose his touch and pop back up on my elbows, disappointed that it’s over. The disappointment soon vanishes when I find him reaching for the coconut oil. He pops the top and trickles some down my slit. Even with it being my own body, I can recognize how arousing the sight is and my clit tingles in response. My eyes move up to his but catch on something before they get there. Judge is aroused too. His hard length rests to the left and down his thigh, the outline pronounced through the fit of his jeans.

“That looks painful.” I nod to his issue. “You can take your pants off, you know.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t like being the only naked one whenever I’m with you.”

“That’s not what this is. It’s a massage. I shouldn’t even be hard, but everything about you and your body turns me on.” He pinches the fat at the top of my inner thighs, and I open my mouth to scold him, but he beats me to it. “I love how this padding cushioned my legs when I fucked you hard.” He tugs on the tuft of hair above my pussy. “I love how your pubic hair holds your scent so when I eat you out and my nose is buried in it, I can’t smell anything but you.”

“Judge—”

“I’m not done.” He takes my inner lips—something I’ve always been self-conscious about—between his fingers. I hate how thin and flappy they are. “I love how these lips hugged my cock, and when I pulled out, they dragged down my length, and fuck, it felt so good.”

“Judge—”

“Now that I’ve been inside you and know how you feel, I can’t help but get hard, even though this is supposed to be all about you and relaxing. I should be able to control myself,” he rambles.

“Goddamn it, Judge, shut up.” I finally get through to him, and his mouth snaps closed. “It doesn’t bother me. Matter of fact, I’d be offended if you weren’t turned on. So please, at least undo your pants. I’m fond of that particular body part and don’t want it to die off due to lack of blood flow.”

He grins and wipes his hands on the towel before taking my advice, but not only does he take off his belt and unzip his jeans, he pulls them down below his hips. His white boxer briefs leave even less to the imagination, and my mouth waters at seeing the outline of the most perfect dick I’ve ever encountered.

“Can I continue?” he asks.

“Please.” I flop back down.

His touch backtracks, starting all over with the slow strokes up and down. After that interruption, I didn’t think I could get back into what he was doing, but now that my body knows what to expect, I find myself relaxing into it once again. He repeats everything he did previously, then switches to a new movement. His thumb and pinkie rest on either side of my outer lips, while his first finger and ring finger rest on either side of my clit. That leaves his middle finger on top of my clit. His hand glides up and down easily, thanks to the coconut oil, and on each downward stroke, he rubs a circle around it. Every part of my sex is stimulated, and I lose my fight to keep this from turning sexual.

It feels so good, and my arousal drips from me and my clit pulses. I glance down my body and see he’s wholly focused on what he’s doing, meaning there’s no way he doesn’t see what he’s doing to me.

“Can I enter you with my fingers?” he asks, very clinically.

“As long as this ends with you making me come.”

He smiles at that, meeting my eyes. “I can arrange that.”

His middle finger slides right in, but he stops at about an inch deep. Taking intentional deep breaths, he presses up and holds the pressure. Obviously, I’m going to have to wait for that promised orgasm. I find myself subconsciously syncing my breath to his as he treats my pussy like a clock, circling his finger and stopping at each hour to press into my inner flesh.

“That was a reflexology technique,” he says, replacing one finger with two. He curls them up, finding my G-spot. He holds the pressure for a minute before stroking that same spot with a come hither motion. My pussy clenches around him as a sudden burst of pleasure courses through me.

“What’s this technique called?” I grit out.

“I believe the technical term is finger-fuck.”

My body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with a toe-curling sensation as his expert fingers manipulate my clit. He knows exactly what he’s doing, applying just the right amount of pressure and speed to drive me wild. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he switches things up, thrusting in and out until he creates a suction that makes my pussy throb and pulse. As I pant and moan, I hear the wet sucking sound between my legs, and I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. The urge to pee only adds to the intensity, but I trust Judge completely. He may have some unconventional desires, but I know he’ll take care of me. With a deep breath, I give into the sensations and let him lead me toward an orgasm like no other—one that will leave me spent and trembling in ecstasy.

“I want you to come all over my fingers, Myla. Do it. Let your pussy squirt all over me,” he says. The hand that’s not trying to make me rocket off the bed skims up my body to tweak a nipple. He tugs roughly, even painfully, but it’s exactly what I need.

Bearing down on his fingers, I let loose all my inhibitions. I white-knuckle the comforter at my side, my head lifting off the bed as lightning bolts of pleasure spread through my body. Pressure builds behind my ears, and I’m vaguely aware of someone screaming, only to realize it’s me.

My hips buck off the bed, and my thighs quiver as I hold onto the fleeing pleasure for as long as I possibly can, not worrying about the spray that’s splashing against Judge’s arm. Thank God he rolled up his sleeve, or he’d be soaked. When my lungs burn because I’ve held my breath for so long, I have no choice but to relax and sadly let go of the most aggressive orgasm of my entire life.

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” I breathe out, completely blissed out.

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