Jim placed his whole hand gently over her mons and deftly began
probing for her the apex. With a groan of remorse she tried to
reach for his hand, to stave off the attack. But just as she
grabbed his arm again the groan tailed off into a moan of delight
as he found the clitoris. The joy-bud burst into life as he
found the tip; the blood cursed through her veins towards this
seat of exquisite pleasure. “Oh, my god, that feels good. I
want you to stop, Jim. I don’t want you to stop. Don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop. But you may start.” Her hand, not needed to
allay his advances, fell limply. Not missing a stroke on her
clit, he gentle picked up her hand and placed it over his bulging
crotch. Her hand stayed there for what seemed like minutes.
Whether it was trepidation or fear of the unknown or whether it
was just the rapture at what was taking place in her body, we
will never know nor care, but her hand remained motionless.