“Why are you covering yourself like that?” he asked, his voice low and curious, his eyes flicking down to where my hand was pressed tightly against my thigh. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. Shit. I wasn’t ready for this. I hadn’t even realized how obvious it was until he’d pointed it out. My face burned as I stammered, “It’s nothing… just… it’s nothing.”But he wasn’t buying it. His hand, which had been resting on my thigh for the past half hour, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against mine. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the weight of his touch, and it sent a shiver through me. “You’re lying,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “What’s going on?”I shook my head, trying to find the words, but they caught in my throat. How could I explain this? How could I tell him that the simple act of his hand on my thigh had turned me on so much that I was dripping wet, so wet it had soaked through my panties and was now visible on my jeans? “I… I got wet,” I finally whispered, my voice barely audible. His eyes darkened, and I could see the shift in his expression, the way his lips parted slightly, the way his breathing hitched. “Wet?” he repeated, his voice rough now, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. “From my touch?”I nodded, unable to look away from him. His hand moved again, sliding closer to the heat between my legs, and I let out a soft gasp. “Yes,” I breathed, my body trembling with anticipation. He didn’t say anything else, but his actions spoke louder than words. His fingers pressed against the fabric of my jeans, right over my pussy, and I moaned softly, my hips rocking forward instinctively. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and husky. “You’re really wet, aren’t you?”Another moan escaped my lips as he applied more pressure, his fingers rubbing against me through the denim. I could feel how soaked I was, how desperate I was for him, and it only made me wetter. “Please,” I whimpered, my hands clutching at the couch cushions. He didn’t need any more encouragement. His other hand went to the button of my jeans, popping it open with ease, and then he was sliding them down my legs, along with my soaked panties. The cool air hit my heated skin, and I shivered, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he took in the sight of me, spread out before him. “Fuck,” he said again, his voice rough with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.” I could feel my cheeks burning, but I didn’t care. Not when he was looking at me like that, not when his fingers were already moving to touch me, to explore the slickness between my legs. I moaned as he slid a finger through my folds, gathering the wetness there, and then he was pushing inside me, his finger sinking deep into my tight heat. “You feel so good,” he groaned, his eyes locked on mine as he added a second finger, stretching me, filling me. My hips bucked against his hand, seeking more, and he obliged, curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside me that made my entire body tremble. “Oh god,” I moaned, my head falling back against the couch as pleasure coursed through me. His fingers moved faster, harder, and I could feel the pressure building, the coil tightening deep inside me. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice breathless. But he did stop, pulling his fingers out of me with a wet sound that made me whimper. Before I could protest, he was on his knees, his hands gripping my thighs as he leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers. I cried out as his tongue flicked against my clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. He licked and sucked, his tongue delving into my folds, tasting me, driving me wild. “Oh my god,” I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair as he worked me with his mouth. It was too much, and yet not enough, and I could feel myself teetering on the edge, so close to falling over. And then he added his fingers again, thrusting them into me as his tongue continued to tease my clit, and I shattered, my body convulsing with pleasure as I came harder than I ever had before. He didn’t stop, not even when I was begging him to, not even when my legs were shaking and my head was spinning. He kept going, drawing out my orgasm until I was a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. Only then did he pull away, sitting back on his heels as he looked up at me, his lips glistening with my wetness. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice rough with need. I could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond, but it didn’t matter. He was already standing, pulling off his shirt and unzipping his jeans, his cock springing free, hard and ready. I licked my lips, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my orgasm, but I wanted more. I wanted him. He climbed back onto the couch, positioning himself between my legs, and I reached for him, my hands wrapping around his cock, feeling the heat of him, the hardness. He groaned as I stroked him, his hips thrusting forward into my hand, and then he was pushing my legs apart, settling himself at my entrance. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky, his eyes searching mine. I nodded, my breath hitching. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed into me slowly, inch by excruciating inch, and I moaned as he filled me, stretching me, his cock sliding deep into my wet heat. He paused when he was fully sheathed inside me, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his hips shifting slightly, making me moan again. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He didn’t. He started to move, his hips thrusting into me, his cock sliding in and out of me with delicious friction. I moaned with each thrust, my body arching up to meet his, my nails digging into his back. He was everywhere, all around me, inside me, and I couldn’t get enough. “Fuck,” he muttered, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. “You’re so tight.” I could feel the pressure building again, the coil tightening deep inside me, and I knew I was close. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice breathless. “Please don’t stop.”He didn’t. If anything, he went harder, his hips slamming into mine, his cock hitting that spot inside me that made me see stars. I came with a cry, my body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his own release following mine as he spilled inside me, his cock pulsing with each wave of pleasure. His weight collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy as we both came down from the high. His lips found mine in a slow, lingering kiss, and I melted into it, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. “That was…” he started, his voice trailing off as he pulled back to look at me. “Amazing,” I finished for him, a smile tugging at my lips. He chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes warm with affection. “It sure was.

“Why are you covering yourself like that?” he asked, his voice low and curious, his eyes flicking down to where my hand was pressed tightly against my thigh. 

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. _Shit._ I wasn’t ready for this. I hadn’t even realized how obvious it was until he’d pointed it out. My face burned as I stammered, “It’s nothing… just… it’s nothing.”

But he wasn’t buying it. His hand, which had been resting on my thigh for the past half hour, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against mine. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the weight of his touch, and it sent a shiver through me. “You’re lying,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head, trying to find the words, but they caught in my throat. How could I explain this? How could I tell him that the simple act of his hand on my thigh had turned me on so much that I was dripping wet, so wet it had soaked through my panties and was now visible on my jeans? 

“I… I got wet,” I finally whispered, my voice barely audible. 

His eyes darkened, and I could see the shift in his expression, the way his lips parted slightly, the way his breathing hitched. “Wet?” he repeated, his voice rough now, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. “From my touch?”

I nodded, unable to look away from him. His hand moved again, sliding closer to the heat between my legs, and I let out a soft gasp. “Yes,” I breathed, my body trembling with anticipation. 

He didn’t say anything else, but his actions spoke louder than words. His fingers pressed against the fabric of my jeans, right over my pussy, and I moaned softly, my hips rocking forward instinctively. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and husky. “You’re really wet, aren’t you?”

Another moan escaped my lips as he applied more pressure, his fingers rubbing against me through the denim. I could feel how soaked I was, how desperate I was for him, and it only made me wetter. “Please,” I whimpered, my hands clutching at the couch cushions. 

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His other hand went to the button of my jeans, popping it open with ease, and then he was sliding them down my legs, along with my soaked panties. The cool air hit my heated skin, and I shivered, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he took in the sight of me, spread out before him. 

“Fuck,” he said again, his voice rough with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.” 

I could feel my cheeks burning, but I didn’t care. Not when he was looking at me like that, not when his fingers were already moving to touch me, to explore the slickness between my legs. I moaned as he slid a finger through my folds, gathering the wetness there, and then he was pushing inside me, his finger sinking deep into my tight heat. 

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his eyes locked on mine as he added a second finger, stretching me, filling me. My hips bucked against his hand, seeking more, and he obliged, curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside me that made my entire body tremble. 

“Oh god,” I moaned, my head falling back against the couch as pleasure coursed through me. His fingers moved faster, harder, and I could feel the pressure building, the coil tightening deep inside me. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice breathless. 

But he did stop, pulling his fingers out of me with a wet sound that made me whimper. Before I could protest, he was on his knees, his hands gripping my thighs as he leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers. I cried out as his tongue flicked against my clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. He licked and sucked, his tongue delving into my folds, tasting me, driving me wild. 

“Oh my god,” I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair as he worked me with his mouth. It was too much, and yet not enough, and I could feel myself teetering on the edge, so close to falling over. And then he added his fingers again, thrusting them into me as his tongue continued to tease my clit, and I shattered, my body convulsing with pleasure as I came harder than I ever had before. 

He didn’t stop, not even when I was begging him to, not even when my legs were shaking and my head was spinning. He kept going, drawing out my orgasm until I was a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. Only then did he pull away, sitting back on his heels as he looked up at me, his lips glistening with my wetness. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice rough with need. 

I could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond, but it didn’t matter. He was already standing, pulling off his shirt and unzipping his jeans, his cock springing free, hard and ready. I licked my lips, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my orgasm, but I wanted more. I wanted him. 

He climbed back onto the couch, positioning himself between my legs, and I reached for him, my hands wrapping around his cock, feeling the heat of him, the hardness. He groaned as I stroked him, his hips thrusting forward into my hand, and then he was pushing my legs apart, settling himself at my entrance. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky, his eyes searching mine. 

I nodded, my breath hitching. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed into me slowly, inch by excruciating inch, and I moaned as he filled me, stretching me, his cock sliding deep into my wet heat. He paused when he was fully sheathed inside me, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his hips shifting slightly, making me moan again. 

“Don’t stop,” I begged, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. 

He didn’t. He started to move, his hips thrusting into me, his cock sliding in and out of me with delicious friction. I moaned with each thrust, my body arching up to meet his, my nails digging into his back. He was everywhere, all around me, inside me, and I couldn’t get enough. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. “You’re so tight.” 

I could feel the pressure building again, the coil tightening deep inside me, and I knew I was close. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my voice breathless. “Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t. If anything, he went harder, his hips slamming into mine, his cock hitting that spot inside me that made me see stars. I came with a cry, my body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, his own release following mine as he spilled inside me, his cock pulsing with each wave of pleasure. 

His weight collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy as we both came down from the high. His lips found mine in a slow, lingering kiss, and I melted into it, my body still trembling with the aftershocks. 

“That was…” he started, his voice trailing off as he pulled back to look at me. 

“Amazing,” I finished for him, a smile tugging at my lips. 

He chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes warm with affection. “It sure was.

A forbidden touch during a movie night escalates into a raw, passionate encounter. The story explores the themes of unexpected arousal and the consequences of giving in to temptation, as a simple touch turns into a night of raw, uninhibited sex.

My pussy got wet because of his touch

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