Pinocchio’s hands coupled at her hips; his own pressing closer from behind, as he sent his cock between her slick thighs. “Soft…” P mumbled the compliment, propelling closer and squeezing the front of her thighs tighter together around his aching length, the action sending tingles all through her.

   Y/n could only whimper when his right hand decidedly dipped inside her thighs to touch her clit, nice and gradual. And when he finally pulled back; dragging himself against her through their mixed arousals—he had to hold his breath to calm himself. With each plunge, he caressed her clit; his firm cock rubbing against her folds in such a precise way that she faulted it for tact.