Three Pencils
[God, Nina. That sight...I can't stop thinking about how wet and tight you are. I want to be inside you myself, stretching you, filling you completely.]
A wave of happiness and excitement surged through her, her chest tightening with the intensity of it. The praise, the sheer hunger in his words, made her body warm up.
Her pussy clenched harder, the pencils inside her suddenly feeling like nowhere near enough. The thought of Kafka replacing them with his own thick, hot length made her lips part on a shaky moan.
But the discomfort was creeping in at the same time.
The pencils weren't smooth like his fingers or his cock would be; the rubber tips pressed awkwardly against her sensitive walls. Her slickness helped, but the sensation was becoming too much. She shifted slightly, wondering how to get them out without breaking the spell they were both under.
Before she could decide, her phone buzzed again.