Sara's Car Trip Ch.1 - Sex Stories

Sara's Car Trip Ch.1

... laying my open hand across the plate of her hip, pressing down on her concave abdomen, and tracing, slipping down along the panty line. She was trembling, and I could hear her ragged breathing. Her eyes closed, she had let me, the allowance which had taken me this far. Why? I didn't know. Sharing this secret between us. And again, curiosity, her yielding, the feel of her body. I let my trembling hand cross right over her panties, tracing the thin fabric, running my fingers over that thin cotton triangle, touching, pressing the down on that mound between her thighs, held lightly together. I could feel the tangle of trimmed hair beneath, and I pressed my fingers onto the mound a little harder, massaging into the top beginnings of her pussy, feeling her opening to my touch, holding my finger tips likely just above my sisters clitoris, only the thin fabric separating my fingers from her. That center of her erotic soul. And I heard it, the faintest little "Mmmm," a lite growl. The little girl unable to control her senses. Felling into me. Letting me. Surrendering, if only a little. And I traced the fabric along her thigh, teasing, testing, the tips of my fingers sliding just beneath the edge of her panties, following the thin seam of fabric, laying my hand flat across her thighs and ever so lightly reaching in, into her panties. Feeling the bare skin of her abdomen, the mound of her pussy, that little patch of trimmed hair, touching bare skin to hair covered skin. Then sliding my ...

... fingers between her legs, touching directly over her bare puss, the folds of flesh, that line, just the other side of which would be wet. I knew because when I had briefly pulled my hand out and traced back along the fabric, pressing my hand still further between her legs, could feel the wetness on her panties. Then laying my hand flat upon her abdomen glided softly lower and once more slipping beneath that fabric triangle, the tangles of hair rising through my fingers. To feel just once, her wetness. Curiosity, desire, and now obsession. Feeling her sex, feeling her open, her legs opening slightly to my touch. Her yielding. How far could I go? I pressed my fingers more firmly, plying and pressing her open until a wet ridge met my fingers tip, her opening was like a bursting of fruit. Instead of rubbing I was sliding into her. The juices within building along a dry line and now lubricated through her center, pulling her pussy open, feeling that hardening clit, sliding my finger along her slit, flesh wrapping around, and my finger touched into her pussy, the smell of sex rising. . . And then . . . I knew that THIS had to end. She took my hand, lightly without opening her eyes, or warning or anything. Just took my hand. Wrapping her small fingers around my own wet fingers, and letting her hand slide along her own juces, letting our hands now slide together, wet and lubricated. It was electric. Softly gliding along one another, and then settling me back upon the surface of her ...