Page 46 of Texting My Hot Tutor

We’re leaning close again, her taste, her scent, her everything beckoning me.

We kiss hard, my hand moving to her leg, unable to stop when I feel her bare flesh against my palm.

She’shot, physically scorching, as though her lust is pressing through her skin, making her gorgeous legs even more inviting.

Our tongues clash as I slide my hand higher, higher, as I feel her virgin pussy beckoning to me.

“Wait,” she moans, breaking the kiss off, but staying close, her breath brushing over me.

I think she’s going to tell me to stop, but instead, she nods across the room.

“My – uh – my bedroom is over there. But….”

She doesn’t have to finish.

“We don’t have to go all the way, not tonight,” I say, even as my shaft aches, my helm bursts with urgent precome. “But I want to touch you, to taste you. I want to watch you cream for me in real life, Della. It’ll be so much sexier than the video.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, though,” she whispers as I slide my hand between her legs, holding my palm there, inches from her pussy.

She’s wet and warm. It’s like I can already feel her lips, her horny clit.

“Neither do I,” I say gruffly.

“You sounded like you did. In the texts, I mean….”

“I was just telling you what I wanted to do,” I say fiercely. “I was just thinking of you, imagining what I’d do if I was there. It doesn’t come from any experience.”

“Not even…”

“What?” I ask, leaning back, studying my woman’s tight features.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, her gaze dropping.

Somehow, I remove my hand from her between her legs.

It’s the emotion in her eyes again, prompting me, reminding me I need to protect her. Her mind and her body.

“Not even from videos? Stuff online?”

“No,” I growl. “Absolutely fucking not. I’ve never watched porn.”

She flinches. “Really? Most guys have.”

“I haven’t,” I tell her. “It’s like I said. I was waiting for a woman…a woman I never knew existed. And now here you are. No, Della, we’re in this together. This is a shared adventure. Everything we’re doing, we’re doingtogether.”

She darts her hand out, wrapping her fingers around my wrist, staring at me with frantic eyes.

“Swear?” she whispers. “Promise?”

“I promise. I swear. I’ll never lie to you.”

She nods, seeming to work up her courage, and then she directs my hand to her body.

She makes a moaning noise as she guides my hand between her legs.

CHAPTER17

Della