Page 111 of The Right Move

“No, that’s not it. My little valedictorian likes to be praised, doesn’t she?”

A whimper. The prettiest, sexiest sound I’ve ever heard comes from her throat.

“Clever girl like you, you want to hear how good you’re doing. How perfect you are. How well you’re taking it.”

I feel our fingers getting wetter the more I talk.

“Well, Blue, you’re doing so fucking good. Do you feel us touching your pretty clit? Do you feel how swollen we’re making you? How wet you are? So good, baby.”

An audible gasp escapes her as she drops her head back, her tits pressing into my face. Her legs are shaking around me. Her toes are bunching against the surface of the sofa.

God, I want to fuck her. I’m scared to, but at the same time, I can’t think of anything better.

Instead, I slide off the edge of the couch, letting my cock rub against the sofa, pacifying practically none of the burning need.

Fuck, the view from down here is dangerous. She’s breathtakingly bare. Her thong is pushed so far to one side, I’m able to memorize the entirety of her pussy. Every silky fold. The glistening slit.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

Her muscles clench at that, and all I want to know is how fucking tight she is.

“Ryan, make me come,” she begs.

“Make yourself come.”

Moving her fingers, I slide them through her folds, prodding at her entrance. I guide her to press inside herself. Her middle finger disappears. In and out. Slick and wet.

The noises between her panting breaths, her incredible whimpers, and her soaked skin are going to do me in. But then she says a few more beautiful words and I could swear I’ve been transported to heaven.

“Yours too,” she pleads. “Put your finger inside me.”

“Fuck, Indy. You keep talking like that and I’m going to come before you do.”

“Wrap your hand around your cock then put your finger inside me. If this is the only way I get to have you inside of me, then please.”

If this is what it feels like to give up control and have a stunning woman tell me what to do, I need to let go more often.

“Do you have any idea how much I want you, Ryan?”

How much I want you, Ryan.

I let the words wash over me, basking in them. I can’t remember the last time I was truly wanted.

Pulling my cock out, I give it a quick tug, then pinch it at the base, needing to stop before I explode. When her finger comes out again, I cover it with mine, both of ours breaking the entrance.

She’s so goddamn tight. Our fingers are a snug fit, her walls already pulsing. And all I can think about is my cock in my hand. How deliciously constricted it would be inside her.

I stroke our fingers from the inside, playing with her and finding the spot against her front wall.

Indy’s a squirming mess, her head tossing back and forth. Her cries filled with “yes, right there,” “oh, how does it feel so good,” and my personal favorite, “I’m going to come.”

Her heaving body resists the impending orgasm, not letting go just yet. Typically, I love a bit of orgasm control, building her up, easing her back then up again until she releases. But tonight, I just want her to come. She’s been held back for far too long.

“Let it go, Ind. I need to see you let go.”

“Are you going to come?”

Am I going to come? The cock in my hand is leaking and angry that it’s not inside anything other than my fist. One quick tug and I’ll be coming all over the edge of this couch.

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