Unsheathed

That's it, this time, my hand's in past the knuckles. Her intake and my sharp exhale. She yelps, surprised, shocked and beyond, it is the only muffled noise in my head. My hand a heart inside her cunt, gentle flexion. The tiny pulses ripple through her limbs.

That's right, I whisper.

Her ripples are gathering concentric circles around my wrist, bonecrushing muscles and I bend my head, lick her bent knee, make a trail of bites up. I rest my cheek on her inner thigh, place my uncurled hand on her mons. Feeling the pressure gather, the muscles tense, her keening breath, the push, the gush, the salt sweet spray on my lips.

My hand slowly slowly out, pausing, touching my tongue flat and slow to her clit, cupping her vulva, drawing my fingers up her legs. I peel the glove off, drop it with the others on the floor.