02. Giving Jess a Hand - Sex Stories

02. Giving Jess a Hand

... her spine. She breathed deeply as I worked. “Ok?” I asked sliding her glass toward her so she could take a sip. “Hmm yep. Though I don’t know what feels nicer, your hands or your balls.” I ground a little on her and she chortled and lay her head back down. I couldn’t say which I enjoyed more either if I’m honest, though when I bent over her to rub her neck again, and my cock nestled lightly in the cleft of her bottom, it was me that sighed. She hummed and moved her hips up at it. I cleared my throat and changed position, eliciting a complaint that soon faded out as knelt across her knees and squeezed cream on her buttocks. I don’t know if they were at all achy but her bottom cheeks got as good a rub down as her back and feet had, and she seemed to love it so who cares. I was really enjoying myself, especially the little glimpses of cleftily hidden secrets I got as I pushed and pulled the delightful globes this way and that. Eventually, I had to move on and turned my attention to each leg in turn. I rubbed her calves and thighs the way I’d seen coaches do footballers. With the notable exception of her playful feet, wriggling toes at my balls. I worked all the way up to the tantalizing crease where her bum met her thighs. The backs of my knuckles just grazed fur and warm skin between her legs before I stopped, teasing us both. Once done, I stood back to admire my handiwork. One seriously relaxed and, it turned out, horned-up girl. She smiled at me over her shoulder and in ...

... another of my life’s most treasured moments purred, “Thank you. But you missed a bit.” She slid her legs apart. The firelight poured into the revealed crevasses all the way up her inner thigh, lighting up tempting crinkles and pleats. My cock bucked at the irresistible detail, and I picked up the moisturiser. “Not sure you’ll need much of that!” Jess whispered and ground her hips on the bench. I knelt between her knees in preparation for the next, considerably more extreme, massage. She jumped and giggled as I squirted the cold cream around her warm folds, joking that she thought I’d had “an accident”. Her cackling trailed off as I tucked my thumbs under the join of her inner thighs, rubbing moisturiser into her fluffy outer lips and relishing the all that slippery secret skin. Each gentle rotation of my thumbs opened and closed her pussy lips, her hips moving with me as I rubbed. I opened her up and, digging deeper, let my thumbs rub each side of her clit, making her curl her hips up to them and hum in pleasure. Her thick inner lips had flushed open of their own accord and a gathering drip glinted in the firelight. I slid one of my thumbs effortlessly into the moist warm slot and stirred it making her gasp a little and push back against me encouragingly. I lathered some of the wetness out of her and onto her clit, and then rubbed it with the fingers of my other hand while I sent my thumb in and out and wriggling in her hole. A little production line of pleasure. In under a minute ...