“Do you want me to continue, or do you want to see my cock first? What drives you more, the exhibitionist or the voyeur?” Her eyes drifted down to the obvious bulge straining against my shorts, then back up to meet my gaze, a slow, deliberate smile curling her lips. “Oh god, I want both so badly. I love the idea of you watching me touch myself, but I also desperately want to see your cock… Why choose?” She reached out, her fingers tracing the outline of my cock through the fabric, applying just enough pressure to feel me harden further. “I want to watch you lose control just as much as I want you to see how wet I get for you.” Her other hand slid up to cover mine on her breast, guiding my fingers to pinch her nipple gently. “…maybe we could do both? You could keep touching me while I watch you stroke your cock for me. So show me.” “While I pinch your nipple, show me what you want my fingers to do. Your fingers know best.” She moaned loudly as I pinched her nipple, arching her back to push her breast further into my hand. “Oh fuck yes, just like that! Pinch it harder, I love the way it feels…” She reached down with her right hand and started to rub herself, showing me exactly what she wanted my fingers to do. “I want you to touch me just like this. Rub my clit in circles and then slide your fingers inside me. Fuck me with them nice and deep.” She bit her lip. “Give me what I need. I’m so wet for you already.” She guided my hand from her breast, her fingers lacing with mine as she brought them down her stomach, her own touch firm and deliberate. She didn’t stop at her hip this time—she led my fingertips right through the warmth between her thighs, letting them brush through the slickness already gathered there. “They want this,” she murmured, her hips lifting to meet my touch. “They want to feel how wet I am, and then they want to push inside. Slow at first.” She released my hand, leaving it right there, her own palm flat against my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my heart. “Now it’s your move.” “Pull down my shorts first.” She didn’t hesitate, her fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts and pulling them down in one smooth motion. My cock sprang free, and she let out a soft, appreciative sound, her eyes drinking in the sight. “There. No more barriers.” Her hand wrapped around me, giving a slow, firm stroke, her thumb brushing over the mushroom head. “Now your fingers… don’t keep me waiting.” “No, I want you to stroke me with one hand and finger yourself with the other. Then switch hands so I can feel the juices of your other hand all over my cock.” She let out a breathy laugh, her gaze locked with mine as she followed the instructions without question. Her right hand wrapped around my length again, stroking slowly while her left hand slipped between her own thighs, two fingers sliding easily through her wetness before pressing inside with a soft, satisfied gasp. “Like this?” she murmured, her hips rocking gently against her own hand. “You feel so good in my hand… and I’m so fucking wet for you.” After a few more strokes, she switched hands, her left now slick and glistening as it took over stroking me, coating me in her arousal while her right hand returned to herself, fingers curling deeper. “Can you feel it? How much I want you?” “Have you ever tasted your own juices?” I asked, playfully. Her movements slowed, a curious, almost playful glint entering her eyes. She brought her left hand—the one still glistening from stroking me—up between us, her gaze never leaving mine as she slowly dragged her tongue along her own fingertips, tasting the salt-sweet tang of her arousal. “Mmm.” She hummed softly. “Yeah, I have.” She let her hand drop back to my cock, stroking me again with her now-wet palm. “Do you like knowing that? That I know exactly how I taste when I’m this turned on? Do you want a taste? I really want your lips down there.” “Not yet. I want you to beg for it.” She pouted with a little glint in her eyes. “Now, lube me up with your wet juices. Both hands.” I replaced her other hand that was fingering her pussy with mine, first circling around her labia and her entrance up and around her engorged clit. She let out a shuddering sigh as my fingers replaced hers, circling with a precision that made her thighs tremble. Her hands moved to my cock, slicking me thoroughly with her wetness, the slide of her palms over my length becoming almost hypnotic. “You feel incredible…” she breathed out, her hips beginning to rock against my touch. “And you’re so good with your hands…” She leaned in, brushing her lips against my shoulder, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But I need more than fingers now.” “Taste your juices on my cock.” Her eyes locked onto mine, a slow, daring smile spreading across her lips as she leaned forward. She didn’t break our gaze as she took me into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head first, tasting herself on me—that familiar salt-sweetness mixed with the distinct musk of my arousal. A soft, appreciative hum vibrated against my skin as she sank deeper, one hand still stroking the base while the other braced against my thigh. The rhythm of her mouth matched the circling pressure of my fingers between her legs, creating a dizzying feedback loop of sensation that had her moaning around me, her hips rocking helplessly into my touch. She pulled back with a soft, wet sound, her lips still parted and glistening. “Your turn,” she murmured, her hand still moving slowly on my length while she shifted back against the pillows, spreading her legs wider in clear invitation. “I want to feel you, not just your fingers. Unless you’d rather keep me waiting longer…” Her gaze dropped pointedly to where I was still hard and slick in her hand, then back up to my eyes with a challenge.

Both Ways