Surviving Raine

Raine tried again.

“Yeah…that’s it.” I looked back into her eyes. “Move your fingers down your jaw line and touch your lips with them. That’s it…close your eyes and remember what it was like when my lips were on yours. Warm…soft…”

I blew warm air across her ear again and watched her shiver a little.

“Take your other hand and put it at the hem of your…my shirt,” I felt myself smile. I shifted my weight and moved across her face, my nose almost grazing her skin, but not quite, until I reached her other ear. “I love seeing you in my clothes. Your * is covered by the same cloth that touched my cock, you know. I get so hard when I think about that. Do you ever think about that, Raine? Do you ever think about how my cock was in those same shorts? The same shorts touching your * right now?”

“Yes,” Raine whisper-moaned.

“Did it make the muscles between your legs tighten when you thought of my cock being close to your *? Did it make you wet to think of me there?”

She gasped and her fingers gripped the edge of my shirt.

“I thought so,” I growled into her ear. “Touch your stomach, Raine. Pull the shirt back and run your fingers across your stomach. Gently now…just like the other ones. Good…run your middle finger around your navel. God, I wish that was my tongue on you.”

“You could…” Raine started.

“No, no,” I said with a smile. I blew across her neck and watched her shudder. “That’s not the deal, is it? It doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be my tongue, though. Running over your sweet skin, tasting you…move your hand up under my shirt, baby. Yeah…run your fingers over your breast. Now close your eyes and just feel it.”

Raine followed my instructions, her teeth imbedded in her bottom lip and her hand moving visibly underneath the shirt to cup her own breast. I watched her fingers as they started to close in around her nipple.

“Don’t touch that nipple, baby. I didn’t tell you to touch that…no…run your thumb around it…Wait for it to get all hard and tight. Oh yeah, I can see it now through my shirt…so fucking hot…”

Raine’s eyes remained closed, and I watched her chest rise and fall a little faster now. Her teeth looked like they might be permanently dug into her lip, but despite the obstruction, little whimpered cries snuck out of her mouth.

“Take your hand out of the shirt, Raine,” I said. “Reach across and run your fingers – lightly now – run your fingers up your other arm, the same way you touched yourself before…that’s it…very lightly…to your shoulder, up your neck and over your chin…slowly…now put your first two fingers in your mouth.”

Raine’s eyes opened, and she tilted her head to look over at me.

“Shh,” I said before she had a chance to argue. “Put your fingers in your mouth and suck on them.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Raine complied.

“Good girl,” I whispered. My arm was starting to get tired holding the majority of my weight, so I moved back across her body, bringing my nose extremely close to her neck and shoulders as I moved my mouth to her other ear.

“Run the backs of your fingers down your side,” I instructed. “Now back up and under my shirt and rub those wet fingers over your nipple.”

I watched her hand under the shirt and had to tilt my hips a little farther away from her.

“That could be my tongue,” I said, blowing hot breath into her ear again. Raine gasped and closed her eyes. “Now roll your nipple with your thumb and forefinger. Pull a little, just like if I was sucking on it. Oh yeah…now the other side…”

I rose up on one hand, balancing over the top of her and using the other hand to shadow her movements over the top of the shirt, almost – but not quite – touching the fabric. I watched my hand move with hers and heard myself groan a bit when Raine pulled at her nipple.

Her lids fluttered, and she looked at me with her eyes dark and her lips parted.

“So fucking hot,” I said to her. “Put your other hand on your stomach…trace lightly with your finger over the edge of the shorts. Slide the tips of your fingers under the edge…”

Watching her run her fingers under the hem of my boxer shorts – even when I wasn’t wearing them – felt like a defining moment of some sort. I almost expected an orchestra to pop out of the elastic and start playing dramatic music. When her fingers went under the fabric, I had just the smallest glimpse of dark curls of hair right next to the hem. I wanted my fingers inside of her almost as much as I wanted my cock inside of her.

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