made a protective cupping motion over the juncture of her thighs. Hope whimpered shakily.
They pleasured themselves, separate but connected. Their eyes held. Ryan's hot, almost furious gaze left her in little doubt that he longed to be touching her as much as Hope wished she could touch him.
When his hand moved more rapidly between his thighs, her actions matched his pace.
Desire swelled both in her sex and her chest, feeling like it would burst out of her.
She cried out in alarmed excitement when she felt a new, divine friction between her thighs. Her hips pressed instinctively against the pressure even as the fingers over Ryan's cock reached more insistently.
The solid pane of the mirror gave way to her desire.
Her fingertips pressed against steely flesh encased in warm, surprisingly soft skin. Her gaze sharpened on Ryan. Did he feel it, too? His mouth had fallen partially open. His nostrils flared. Hope felt his penis surge beneath her moving, curious fingertips.
He felt it, to be sure.
Which means he must feel her as well. She glanced down in Wonder, and sure enough four long fingers protruded from the mirror. The first two were buried in her labia and making small, firm circular motions over her tingling flesh. She moaned shakily. It felt delicious ... like he knew precisely what he was doing, exactly how to stroke her to make her burn.
She jumped when he suddenly raised the hand that wasn't playing in her heated flesh and slammed it against the mirror. The strike made a distant, hollow thumping sound. Hope tried to penetrate the glass over his splayed, pressing hand but felt only the smooth surface of the mirror.
He wore an almost frightening look of intensity as he looked down at her and his fingers rubbed and fired her sensitive flesh. Hope understood that he'd tried to reach through the mirror to her to feel her more fully, but whatever force was restraining their contact continued, only the area above their aroused sexes thinning enough to allow this minimal contact.
Her thoughts made her sharpen more on the miracle of actually touching Ryan. The head of his penis felt incredibly smooth. She looked down and used her thumb to outline the circumference of the thick ridge beneath it. When she pressed gently against the slit at the tip, a stream of clear liquid leaked onto her forefinger.
Ryan's fingers slowed on her sex. Hope glanced up in dazed arousal. He held her gaze while he reached down and touched her fingers. They rubbed their fingertips together in a slippery, sensual quest, his seed spreading on their skin.
While they gently discovered one another's touch, Ryan began stimulating her sex again.
He burrowed his long forefinger between her folds and moved the hard ridge of it up and down and in tiny, firm circular motions. Hope bit her lip to stifle a sharp cry of pleasure.
He stroked her so masterfully, as though he knew her flesh even better than she.
He once again fisted his erection and began to stroke himself with long, sure movements, twisting his fist slightly when he reached the area just below the fat, plum-sized head.
Hope watched him, wide-eyed with excitement, still clutching the damp tip of his penis.
She started out of her trance when she realized he was showing her how he wanted to be pleasured. She closed her hand into a fist, frustrated she couldn't completely encircle his girth like his own large hand did.
She began to stroke him. His movements on her sex grew more rapid. She found herself spreading her legs, wanting more of the sensation ... more of Ryan.
He watched her hand pumping his penis and Hope realized he did it for more than mere pleasure at the visual stimulation. Ryan wanted to see how far she could penetrate through their window into each other's reality. She gripped his penis tightly and slid along the dense shaft. She spied his testicles nestled just above the cotton pants that he wore and longed to stroke them. Just like the classical sculptures of the male
They pleasured themselves, separate but connected. Their eyes held. Ryan's hot, almost furious gaze left her in little doubt that he longed to be touching her as much as Hope wished she could touch him.
When his hand moved more rapidly between his thighs, her actions matched his pace.
Desire swelled both in her sex and her chest, feeling like it would burst out of her.
She cried out in alarmed excitement when she felt a new, divine friction between her thighs. Her hips pressed instinctively against the pressure even as the fingers over Ryan's cock reached more insistently.
The solid pane of the mirror gave way to her desire.
Her fingertips pressed against steely flesh encased in warm, surprisingly soft skin. Her gaze sharpened on Ryan. Did he feel it, too? His mouth had fallen partially open. His nostrils flared. Hope felt his penis surge beneath her moving, curious fingertips.
He felt it, to be sure.
Which means he must feel her as well. She glanced down in Wonder, and sure enough four long fingers protruded from the mirror. The first two were buried in her labia and making small, firm circular motions over her tingling flesh. She moaned shakily. It felt delicious ... like he knew precisely what he was doing, exactly how to stroke her to make her burn.
She jumped when he suddenly raised the hand that wasn't playing in her heated flesh and slammed it against the mirror. The strike made a distant, hollow thumping sound. Hope tried to penetrate the glass over his splayed, pressing hand but felt only the smooth surface of the mirror.
He wore an almost frightening look of intensity as he looked down at her and his fingers rubbed and fired her sensitive flesh. Hope understood that he'd tried to reach through the mirror to her to feel her more fully, but whatever force was restraining their contact continued, only the area above their aroused sexes thinning enough to allow this minimal contact.
Her thoughts made her sharpen more on the miracle of actually touching Ryan. The head of his penis felt incredibly smooth. She looked down and used her thumb to outline the circumference of the thick ridge beneath it. When she pressed gently against the slit at the tip, a stream of clear liquid leaked onto her forefinger.
Ryan's fingers slowed on her sex. Hope glanced up in dazed arousal. He held her gaze while he reached down and touched her fingers. They rubbed their fingertips together in a slippery, sensual quest, his seed spreading on their skin.
While they gently discovered one another's touch, Ryan began stimulating her sex again.
He burrowed his long forefinger between her folds and moved the hard ridge of it up and down and in tiny, firm circular motions. Hope bit her lip to stifle a sharp cry of pleasure.
He stroked her so masterfully, as though he knew her flesh even better than she.
He once again fisted his erection and began to stroke himself with long, sure movements, twisting his fist slightly when he reached the area just below the fat, plum-sized head.
Hope watched him, wide-eyed with excitement, still clutching the damp tip of his penis.
She started out of her trance when she realized he was showing her how he wanted to be pleasured. She closed her hand into a fist, frustrated she couldn't completely encircle his girth like his own large hand did.
She began to stroke him. His movements on her sex grew more rapid. She found herself spreading her legs, wanting more of the sensation ... more of Ryan.
He watched her hand pumping his penis and Hope realized he did it for more than mere pleasure at the visual stimulation. Ryan wanted to see how far she could penetrate through their window into each other's reality. She gripped his penis tightly and slid along the dense shaft. She spied his testicles nestled just above the cotton pants that he wore and longed to stroke them. Just like the classical sculptures of the male
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