The depravity of his instruction made me tremble against the dresser, and the brass drawer handles rattled softly. I watched his hand glide over himself, each pass growing him harder and larger. A deep pain burned within me, and I became hot and slippery between my legs.
The dress was intended to make me feel strong, but I had no control over the gasp that escaped my lips or the way my hands clutched at my skirt, tugging it higher.
Carl's face was covered with passion. As I plunged my hand under my panties and massaged my sensitive flesh, his shoulders raised in a loud intake. Touching myself felt fine while I was alone, but it wasn't the same when he saw me do it. It didn't even come close. The feeling had become more intense and vivid.