Not Enough#3

And with that she smiled her crocodile smile yet again, her eyelids half lowered, as she bridged her pelvis up in the air, reaching at the waistband of her jeans, opening the buttton and lowering the oh so short zipper, pushing the jeans down until they bunched just below her knees. My hands mirrored her initial movements, opening the buttons on my jeans and spreading them open, reaching into my underwear to pull out my cock which was now more hard than soft.

My eyes locked onto hers, and yet struggled to split their time between her eyes and her crotch."You can see how hot I've gotten, just telling you about this," she said matter-of-factly, her excitement betrayed by the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the dampness of her panties, the small swatch of satin now darkened at the very juncture of the thighs. "Take a look, take a long look at how wet I've gotten imagining a different dick inside me," she added, as she pulled the thin waist of the panties upwards, pulling the fabric inside her slit, her other hand reaching around her hip and underneath her to pull the remaining slack out of the fabric, stretching it thinner than thin until it was bunched in a single line up and down, the now plump lips of her pussy spreading on either side of the cloth.

She began to slide it back and forth, masturbating herself languidly in the late afternoon sun. I did the same, absentmindedly reaching down for my now erect cock which now had started to leak percum juice at a furious rate. We had played this game before, watching each other pleasure themselves in the daytime, gaining something somewhat lurid and sinful about masturbating in the daytime in the sunshine in each others eyesight. We stopped for a minute, catching each others eye, each holding up slick fingertips, smiling at the other in our guilty pleasuring of ourselves.

I waited, and watched as she started to lose herself to the feeling of her fingers, forsaking the bunched fabric between her legs, her right hand diving inside her panties scratching ever faster at her clit and peehole, her fingers all in a line touching as much of the flesh between her lips as she could manage, the left hand reaching further around to finger herself, putting one then two fingers inside. She was constricted by the jeans and by the back of the couch, and she struggled with her left hand, seeming not to be able to reach around herself far enough to touch herself in just the right place inside herself.

She frowned, and then looked up at me with her little girl pout, her lower lip jutting forward. "Can't you help me? Please?"