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She worked her fingers inside of you, curling them and massaging that spot inside of you that made you whimper and clench around her, a silent and rather desperate plea of don’t you dare stop.
She looked down at the way her thrusting made your body rock softly and at the way you gasped and rolled your hips to meet her skilled hand. Her many rings had been shed, and they were sat on the small table by the sofa, amongst some clutter. Pebbles she had collected, a notebook, and a small stack of old books that had gathered a thin layer of dust - If you really looked that closely.
It was humid out by the swamp, and her little shack did not provide much relief. You were sweaty, and so was she, you could see the way that her hair by her temples was slightly damp. You wanted to suggest going for a swim in the fresh water nearby, if she didn’t beat you to it. The walk was always worth it on the uncomfortably warm days.
“You like it when I speak to you, huh?” She sighed, chuckling so softly under her breath that you could only just hear it. Her cheeks were warm and red, and her pupils were blown, a telltale sign that she was extremely aroused.
You didn’t respond with words, but with a whine and an extra hard roll of your hips instead. She slowed her thrusts and eased her fingers out of you slowly. You groaned, and your hand flew to grasp her wrist.
"Ah, ah, ah,” she shook her head and clicked her tongue.
She held her fingers at your entrance, slipping them inside of you up to her first knuckles. She paused and made eye contact with you, giving you a soft, toothless smile. You moaned back at her, your chest rising and falling quickly as you panted. One of the straps of her thin top had slid down from her right shoulder, and you could see the soft swell of her breasts and her nipples erect beneath the fabric, and the way that her hair glowed as the afternoon sun that leaked through the wooden panels hit it left you completely in awe.
“Can you take three?”
You nodded frantically.
She thrust forward the rest of the way, leaving her with nothing more to give, and you were full. You gasped, your legs opening impossibly further, and you ground down against her hand, wanting more and more and more of her. Wanting all of her that you could possibly get.
”F-uck.”
She began a steady pace, leaning down to kiss your forehead as she fucked you with her fingers. She trailed a sloppy string of kisses from your jawline to your ear, biting at your earlobe, making you shiver and hiss under your breath.
“You remember earlier, when we were gardenin’?” She whispered, her warm breath was hitting your neck and it made your stomach leap. “I was plantin’ those seeds, the ones we dried out, you remember? And’ you had your eyes on my hands, didn’t you? I saw you lookin’ at the way my fingers worked into the dirt.” Her thumb began to brush against your clit after she moved it to the correct position, and you knew straight away that you could not last for very much longer.
“I wonder what we’ll get out of the harvest when everything has grown, don’t you? I hope the strawberries grow all proper. Your cheeks are jus’ like a strawberry right now, aren’t they?” She received a frantic but small nod, “Can make jam, then."
The way that she spoke with her singsongy southern accent did nothing but fuel the fire, it was all raw and real, and she knew this.
"Yeah, yes, please.”
“You are.. so good,” she sped up the pace, fucking you hard and fast and pressing her thumb a little more firmly against your clit. You yelped and she moaned quietly, “you deserve everythin’ you want. What do you want, honeybun?" huh?” She teased, cocking her head to the side and smirking.
You refused to speak, flustered, desperate, and so needy for her, and you could hear how sopping wet you were.
“You wanna cum? Have I spoken enough to get you all worked up for me? Is that what you need? say it.”
"Mmgh, please,” your voice shook. “I need to cum," you paused, and you gulped, inhaling sharply. Your muscles began to twitch and tremble, and she bit her lip, softly nodding.
“I know, I know,” she cooed, “go on.”
Your orgasm struck hard and fast, and you cried out. She pressed her free hand against your lower waist, smoothing her fingers over your skin and holding you down as she lightened the pressure of her thumb but continued to curl her fingers hard and fast. Her eyelashes fluttered softly, she gasped with you as she watched your body tense and then relax until you were practically boneless on the mattress. She slowed as you started to squirm in discomfort, coming to a stop and gently removing her fingers. “All okay?” she whispered. She giggled softly as she crept up closer to you, flopping down on your sweaty chest and placing a kiss against the underside of your jaw.
“Hmm,” you panted, reaching a hand around to scratch at the back of her head. You heard her groan, and she nuzzled into your neck and tightened her grip. You could feel how sweaty and sticky you both were, you were stuck to one another, and it reminded you how nice and cool the river water was. You longed for it.
“Mist, swimming? Please?" You gave an extra firm scratch to the back of her head, and she giggled.
“Mmmm wellll,” she teased, "I can’t see why not, if you give me a few more of' those head scratches.”
“Deal.”