Wet Thighs, Silent Moans

The afternoon sun beat down on the small pond as my younger siblings cast their fishing lines, their laughter echoing through the humid air. I lay back on the worn blanket, the scratchy cotton digging into my skin, a small smile playing on my lips. John, beside me, shifted slightly, his hand sliding across my knee with a deliberate, slow caress. It sent a shiver crawling up my spine, a primal heat igniting in my belly. I moaned softly, the sound a release of pent-up desire, my body tingling with anticipation. The thought of giving myself to him, of losing control, of surrendering to his touch, consumed me. My pussy was already beginning to swell, a warm, insistent pressure building within me, while my nipples, exposed by my thin tank top, strained against the fabric. The scent of his cologne, a musky blend of sandalwood and spice, filled my senses, intensifying the heat.

As our siblings moved further out into the pond, their playful shouts fading into the distance, John’s hand continued its slow, mesmerizing progress up my thigh. I shivered uncontrollably, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. It felt like an eternity, yet it was over in a heartbeat when his hand returned to my knee, the gentle pressure suddenly becoming more insistent. A gasp escaped my lips as he slid his fingers back down, exploring the sensitive skin between my legs. It was the first time he'd been this close, this intimate, and the thought sent a jolt of electricity through my veins.

Then, he leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Are you alright?” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my body.

“Yes,” I managed to choke out, my voice shaky. The shivers intensified, my pussy now throbbing with a desperate need.

Just as the moment felt unbearable, our siblings burst into laughter, signaling their return. John’s hand retreated, sliding back down my thighs as they approached. But the damage was done. The tension, the longing, the sheer intensity of the moment lingered, a potent reminder of what could have been.

As they ran off to continue their game in the hay loft, John’s hand returned, this time plunging deeper into my flesh. A sharp intake of breath escaped my lips as his finger pressed against my panties, a thrilling sensation that sent a cascade of heat through my body. He slowly pushed my legs open, exposing my delicate skin, and ran his finger over the silky, wet fabric, pausing to press against my hard clit, which had begun to pulse with pleasure. The shivers intensified, my body arching in response to the exquisite torment.

“Oooooh, yes,” I moaned, the sound raw and desperate, as he continued his exploration, pressing and rubbing against my clit in a rhythmic, insistent dance. The feeling was both exquisite and agonizing, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain.

John rubbed up and down my slit, the friction sending waves of sensation through my body. My juices flowed freely, soaking my panties as he pressed my panties down into my slit, intensifying the pleasure. A primal scream tore from my throat, a release of the pent-up desire that had been building within me.

“Oooooh, yes,” I moaned again, the sound laced with ecstasy, as he pressed against my veil. He slid a second finger into me, deepening the sensation, igniting a fire within my soul. My eyes locked with his, a silent acknowledgment of the shared pleasure, the unspoken understanding of our mutual desires.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, as my body shook with anticipation.

Our lips met in a passionate, desperate embrace, tongues dancing wildly, exploring each other’s mouths with unrestrained abandon. Nervously, I reached over and pressed my hand against his hardon, hidden within his shorts. The sight of it, so large and full, sent a surge of heat through my veins. I wanted to feel it, to hold it, to lose myself in its magnificent presence.

John moaned, “Yes, baby, touch me.”

As he worked his finger tips in and out of my pussy fast, I continued rubbing him over his shorts, the friction intensifying the pleasure. My pussy and nipples tingled, my nectar flowing freely, soaking his hand in its sweet, salty essence. I jumped up when I heard my sibling pounding on my bedroom door, signaling my need to leave the scene. Panting and drenched, my pussy soaked and a wet spot on the bed, I threw myself back down, pounding the bed in frustration. “OK,” I yelled, my voice choked with tears, as I sobbed, wondering when my dreams would finally come true.

After composing myself, I quickly got dressed and ran out the door with my siblings, making our way to church just in time for the service. Once the service concluded and we were leaving, the pastor’s wife stopped us and introduced us to a handsome young man. Our eyes met, a spark of recognition passing between us.

“Hello, my name is John,” he said, extending his hand for a shake. The simple greeting felt like a revelation, a confirmation of my deepest desires. The pastor’s wife escorted my siblings away to play, leaving me standing awkwardly with John.

I soon learned he was 22 and had just moved to town alone for work. I confided in him, sharing my story of raising my siblings since my parents passed away. There was an undeniable connection between us, a tingling sensation that both frightened and thrilled me. I extended an invitation for dinner, which he eagerly accepted.

He arrived, and my siblings adored him, playing around him as I finished preparing the meal. After dinner, we settled in for conversation, sipping on glasses of wine and getting to know each other better. The connection deepened, solidifying into something more profound. He finished his wine and rose to leave. As he walked away, I stopped him, running down to meet him. I got on my tippy toes and pulled his face down, kissing him passionately.

“Thank you, John. If you’re free tomorrow, please come back,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.

He looked shocked, then smiled, saying he would be back for breakfast at 9 am. I practically flew into my bedroom, undressing quickly and crawling into bed, my body buzzing with anticipation. Lying there, lost in thought, I imagined us laying in bed facing each other, making out, our hands caressing each other through our cloths. The image was so vivid, so intense, that it felt as if I were already experiencing it. I ran my hand over the front of his shorts, just as I had in my dream last night, feeling the immense size and hardness of his cock.

“Take it out, take my cock out,” I gasped, my voice trembling with desire.

My body shook as I watched him, unable to contain the pleasure that was building within me. John moaned, “That feels amazing” as my hand slid up and down his cock, exploring every inch of its magnificent form.

I stroked him faster and faster, lost in the moment, as he cried out and grabbed my hand, begging me to stop before he cum. I pulled his hand away, leaning in for a passionate kiss, as his cock throbbed and jerked in my hand. I gasped into his mouth as I felt the first blast of his hot cum hit my belly, followed by several more as he continued his assault. My body shook with each wave of pleasure, my orgasm washing over me in a torrent of sensation. I went limp on my bed, exhausted and completely satisfied.

As I shivered and enjoyed my orgasm, my phone vibrated, displaying a text message from John. “Question.”

I waited anxiously, scanning the message, then typed back my response. “Ask anything.”

After a tense 15 minutes, the question arrived: “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

I giggled, tears streaming down my face, as I replied, “OMG, I do believe in love at first sight, and honestly, I feel I’ve known you for a long time.”

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