Post Cum Handjob: Must-Have Stunning Fun

The thing about that post cum handjob was how she didn’t just stop when I finished—she kept her fingers wrapped around me, slick and slow, and I swear I forgot how to breathe for a second. We’d been fooling around for maybe an hour, her blonde hair falling across my chest, those perfect boobs brushing against my arm every time she shifted. I came hard, the kind that makes your whole body tense up, and I figured that was it. But she just looked at me with this little smile and whispered, Not yet. Her grip stayed firm but gentle, sliding up and down with this torturous rhythm that turned every nerve ending into a live wire. I was so sensitive I could barely stand it, twitching under her touch, but she didn’t rush. She watched my face the whole time, reading every flinch, easing off when I got too close to another peak, then starting again. It was like she owned that moment completely, turning my own sensitivity against me in the best way. I remember gripping the sheets, half laughing, half groaning, totally at her mercy. She finally let me go with a soft kiss on my hip, and I just lay there, dizzy and grinning like an idiot.