-four- part 2
“You’re so wet,” I murmured in her ear as she hung on to me for dear life, trying not to notice how good it felt to have her pussy opened by my hard shaft. “So wet and so hot.”
“What do you expect?” she snapped, looking totally embarrassed now. “After the way you were kissing me and…and touching me earlier?”
I smirked at her irritable tone. “So you liked it when I fingered your pussy?” I hissed. “Did it turn you on, Rob? Did it make you hot when I stroked your clit and put my fingers inside you?”
My desire for Robyn had just sky rocketed and my heart was jackhammering again as I fought keep control of myself. My breath kept wanting to come in short little pants, like I was running a race uphill. It was all I could do to keep myself together. “We had to get the best shot,” she said, not looking at me and deliberately ducking the question. “She wanted to get a picture of you…touching me, so you had to touch me. That was all.”
“But you liked the way it felt when I fingered you? It made you wet – right?” I persisted.
“What do you think?” she demanded. Deliberately, she raised and then lowered herself so that my shaft and the broad head of my cock slid over her slippery folds and the throbbing bud of her clit. Robyn and I both groaned at the extra stimulation, and I knew my shaft was probably coated with her pussy honey by now.
It was a single motion to prove a point, but Lisa noticed it at once. “That’s good,” she said excitedly, still snapping away. “Do that some more – act like you’re riding him, Robyn. Chris, put your hands on her waist and help her move – both of you get into it.”
What could we do? Robyn braced her hands on my shoulders and began to slide up and down. I’m sure from Lisa’s perspective it looked like I was actually inside Robyn’s, like we were actually fucking, and even though we weren’t, it was still almost more than I could bear. The friction of my shaft against her clit was delicious, and I could feel the pleasure building inside me again as she bounced on my lap. But once again Lisa intervened.
“Slower now,” she directed. “Long, slow strokes. This can be almost tantric – if you do it right, you can make it last for hours. Slow it.”