Then her hand moved.
Her right palm—still trembling—slid down the outside of my thigh, slow and deliberate now, no longer pretending it was accidental. Fingernails grazed skin, raising goosebumps. When her fingers curled inward, she didn't stop at the base this time. She wrapped her small, warm hand fully around my cock—right at the thick, veiny root—squeezing once like she was testing how much give there really was.
"Let me help you hold it…" she breathed against my shoulder, voice husky and wrecked. "So you can… let go. I want to feel it soften in my hand… or get even harder. Whatever you need."
The instant her fingers closed—tight, possessive, slick already from the precum she'd smeared earlier—I sucked in a sharp hiss.
My hips bucked forward on reflex, shoving the swollen, veined length deeper into her fist. The thickest vein on the underside pulsed violently against her palm like it was trying to fuck her hand.
