Playboy Morning Show - Episode 246

The hand moves down to her thigh, fingers spreading wide, claiming the warm flesh. Her skin feels like silk, and the contrast against my palm sends a jolt straight through me. I watch my thumb trace circles, then slip lower, testing. She parts her legs an inch—invitation, not surrender. Heat radiates from her core. My fingers reach the soft cleft, find it already slick. I slide two inside with ease, curl them until her breath catches sharp. She’s tight, trembling, her walls clenching in time with my slow rhythm. I can hear the wet sound each time I thrust, small, obscene, perfect. My thumb drags across her clit in lazy strokes, coaxing more wetness, until my knuckles are soaked. She lifts her hips, riding the motion. I keep my pace steady, deliberate. Watching her come apart on my hand is its own kind of high. When she starts to shake, I add a third finger, stretching her open, thumb pressing harder. Her moan breaks low and long. She grinds against the heel of my hand, chasing the edge. I let her have it. When she comes, it’s with a strangled cry, her thighs clamping around my wrist, pulse fluttering around my fingers in greedy little spasms. I keep stroking through it, dragging every last tremor from her until she goes limp beneath me, skin flushed, mouth open on a gasp.