My Sex-Packed Holiday Ch. 05

"Oh Christ, Annie, have you done it?"

Gently, I moved my hand backwards and forwards. Now that I was past the thickest part of my hand, I was surprised at how easy it was to push a bit further in, although I think I'd reached the top end of her vaginal passage. Abi pulled herself up on her elbows and looked at my hand disappearing up inside her.

"Oh Jesus fuck," she gasped.

I gently moved my wrist backwards and forwards inside her, feeling her vaginal walls pulsate and squeeze around my hand. It was like being enclosed in a big, tight, wet, hot rubber glove. Abi leant forward and gripped my arm at the point where it entered her, as if she wanted to help me to frig her with my hand. There were tears in her eyes: I must have looked worried for a moment, because she shook her head.

"It doesn't hurt, Annie...well, not really; you don't know how good it is. I feel so full."

She let go of my arm, and began to rub at her clitoris. Almost immediately I felt her start to shake and I began to fuck her gently with my hand as her fingers moved faster and faster against her little bud. She just kept repeating the words "Oh god, oh god, oh god," her tits wobbling more and more as she began to come. It didn't take long: she must have been really aroused. Her legs shook, then stiffened as she cried out, her orgasm overwhelming her. She was rocking backwards and forwards against me, and I thought at first she was never going to stop coming. It was as if she was on an upward spiral of exhilarating orgasmic release that wouldn't stop until she exploded. Wet though she already was, I could feel yet more juices welling up inside her. I pulled my hand back, feeling the pressure of her labia round my wrist as the widest point of my hand began to emerge, then pushed back again with a loud squishing noise.

I looked at Abi: her eyes were shut, and a dribble of blood was dribbling down her chin from where she had bitten her lip in the throes of her orgasm. Beads of sweat clung to her body, and I began to pull my hand out again. As the thickest part of my hand reached her entrance, I had to pull a bit harder, and I actually felt her whole body start to slide down the bed towards me. I was filled with the awful thought -- what if my hand got stuck? I squeezed it as narrow as I could, and to my relief there was a sudden sloppy squish as it came right out. Abi gasped again, and a dribble of juices ran out of her vagina onto the bed. For a few moments she just lay there, panting, while I sat between her legs, feeling my own sweat starting to cool on my skin.

Abi sat up and pulled me on top of her, our wet sweaty bodies still slick with arousal. She kissed me hard on the mouth, and I tasted the sharp tang of blood from her cut lip. I showed her my hand, sticky all over with her juices, and wiped it on her cheek before she sucked my fingers into her mouth and held them there as she licked at them, tasting herself.

I relaxed on her chest and rubbed my face in her breasts, nuzzling at her nipples. The bed was a bit damp, and the whole room smelt of sex. She put her arms around me and held me tight. We were both still panting with excitement, and I adjusted my breathing to match hers. Her hands stroked up and down my back. For a moment, I felt a bit scared: what was I turning into? I had just peed in my panties for someone's sexual pleasure, then -- oh my god -- actually stuck my whole hand right up inside her vagina. The range of sexual experiences I'd had on this holiday had suddenly reached a whole new level. And so far I'd enjoyed every minute.

Abi was running her hands through my hair.

"Oh Annie," she said softly "That was awesome. You're young enough to be my daughter -- literally. I can't believe you're interested in an old woman like me."

"I don't care," I replied, and I really meant it. "I've never met anyone like you before. You're just so sexy and hot and dirty; what's age got to do with it?"

I couldn't say any more, as she clamped her mouth over mine and kissed me long and deep. Eventually, she lay back with a sigh.

"Look at the time," she mused. "I need some lunch -- I only had some fruit juice for breakfast before I left." Then she giggled.

"I was thinking of that joke," she said. I looked puzzled.

"You know: what's the difference between an Essex Girl and a Twix?"

I had a hunch where this was going, but I shook my head.

"You only get four fingers in a Twix."