The wet, slippery heat radiating from between her legs was soaking through the black lace, dampening the fabric of my trousers. I slid one hand down her stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of those razor-thin panties.
She was already completely drenched. My fingers bypassed the lace, finding her swollen, slick folds.
"Aah...!" Ariana gasped loudly, her hands gripping my shoulders like a vice.
I began to stroke her, two fingers gliding smoothly through her slick wetness, massaging her sensitive core.
Slap, slap, squelch.
The lewd, wet sounds of my fingers working inside her filled the quiet bedroom, syncing perfectly with the frantic, rhythmic grinding of her hips against my aching erection.
"You're so wet, Ari," I rasped, my thumb circling her clit, applying a steady, agonizing pressure.
"Y-Yes... oh gods, yes... keep doing that..." she sobbed out, her hips bucking wildly against my hand, her confident smirk melting completely into an expression of raw, unadulterated lust.
