Page 160 of Mountain Grump

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So I canseeas I slide my middle finger through the wetness coating her lips.

“Perfect fucking pussy.”

I push my finger inside her.

Heat clenches around me.

And a sound of satisfaction leaves my throat.

I pull it out.

Then I push two fingers into my Tilda.

We both groan.

I twist my wrist. I rub my fingers against the inside of her. And I drop my mouth back to her bud.

Her clit is practically pulsing.

I lap at it.

I suck on it.

I rock my hips against nothing.

My cock is so hard.

Leaking.

And I want to fuck her.

I want to shove my dick into Tilda. Want to come deep inside her.

But I want her to come against my tongue more.

“Take it out,” Tilda pants. “Ethan, take it out.”

I lift my head, my mouth leaving her pussy. And I start to slide my fingers out.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Your cock.” She tilts her hips, like she’s trying to get my fingers deeper. “Take your cock out. I want to watch you stroke it.”

I push my fingers in until they’re as deep as they can go.

Then I reach down with my other hand and jerkily undo my jeans.

“Is it out?” Tilda arches her neck, trying to see.

I lean back, sitting on my heels, and drag the front of my boxer briefs down.

I pull my dick free. “It’s out.”

Tilda moans. “Good Boy. Now stroke it.”

I slowly drag my fingers out of her heat as I drag my other hand down my length.

I stroke up. I push my fingers in. And my lids lower as I pant at the sight of it all.

Tilda shifts up onto her elbows, trying to see below the foot of the bed.

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