“I don’t have a foot fetish, Darcy. It’s more like I have a you fetish…are you playing with your pussy right now?”

“Yes.”

“That’s my job,” he said, a determined frown creasing his brow. “Come ‘ere.”

Water sloshed as I crawled over to his side of the tub. He pulled my back against his chest. The hard length of his dick pressed against my spine for one glorious moment before he adjusted himself into what I presumed was a more comfortable position.

“Show me,” he whispered, grasping my inner thighs and hooking my knees over his. “Show me how you make yourself come. I wanna know exactly how you do it.”

The little waves I’d made while moving to his side of the tub buffeted against my sensitive pussy. “You already know how.”

“Mm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Not really. I know you like it when I have my fingers inside of you and make you squirm in my lap. I know you like it when you’re sitting on my face, and you roll your hips up just enough for me to tongue, taste, and lick your ass, but I don’t know how you make yourself come.”

My pussy tightened around the emptiness I wanted him to fill.

“Show me, hermosa,” he whispered in my ear, an edge of desperation in his voice as if he needed to touch me as much as I needed to be touched.

I took his left hand in mine and placed it in between my thighs. The moment his hand made contact with my pussy, he slipped two of his thick fingers inside of me in one quick stroke.

“Hey!” I said, scolding him lightly but also moaning because it felt so damn good.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his fingers still inside of me.

“I’m supposed to be showing you how I make myself come.”

“I know, but damn. You don’t know how good you feel, flaca. So hot and tight…just feeling you on my fingers makes me want to come.” He rocked his hips ever so slightly against my back, and his dick throbbed where he had it pinned between us.

“Me first,” I panted, covering his hand with my own.

“Always. You come first always,” he whispered passionately, then withdrew his fingers slowly, and I flexed those intimate inner muscles, squeezing them on his retreating digits. He grunted, and his hips gave a hard involuntary thrust, sloshing water out of the tub.

“Damn…okay. Show me,” he murmured in a rush.

I positioned his fingers right over my clit. The contact made me shiver, and a delicious rush of pleasure arrowed through my core. “Just your fingertips. Right there.”

“Right here?” he whispered, his fingers pressing lightly in the right spot, the perfect spot.

“Yes, yes, yes. Oh, god. Right there, Tommy. But soft and slow… Soft, slow circles!” I panted.