Imagine This Being Your Hands Cheri had refined the idea.

Last time the angle did most of the work. This time she wanted the hands themselves to be the point—her hands on his cock, clearly feminine, clearly someone else’s, while her voice told the viewer to pretend they were their own.

“Only my hands in the frame,” she said, testing the camera angle. “Nothing else. Just these.” She held her hands up. “And your cock. They imagine the hands are theirs.”

Manny sat on the edge of the bed, already half-hard from watching her set up. “You’re not getting on camera at all?”

“Just the hands,” she confirmed. “And my voice.”

She positioned the camera high and angled sharply downward so it framed only from his lower stomach to mid-thigh. Soft lighting. She stripped completely and stayed carefully out of the shot, two fingers of one hand already wet between her legs while the other hand waited. Manny leaned back where she told him, legs spread, soft thick cock resting heavy in the center of the frame.

Her voice came through the mic low, calm, and close—like she was speaking right beside the viewer’s ear.

“Look down. That’s the cock. Soft right now. Heavy. Thick. In a second you’re going to see hands touch it. I want you to imagine those hands are yours.”

Manny kept still. Cheri’s free hand moved between her own legs as she spoke.

“Feel the anticipation. The second they wrap around it, pretend it’s you. Keep looking down.”

She reached into the frame with both hands.

Her fingers closed gently around the soft, heavy shaft, lifting it, feeling the weight. She cupped his balls with one hand and gave the cock a slow, deliberate stroke with the other. The camera caught every movement—her fingers spreading, the way the soft flesh shifted in her grip, the quiet adjustment of his balls in her palm.

“These are your hands now,” she murmured. “Feel how warm it is. How heavy. Just resting in your palm. Give it a slow squeeze… like this.”

She demonstrated, gentle and unhurried, rolling his soft cock in her fingers, thumb brushing the head. Then she paused the recording long enough to lean in (still keeping her body out of frame) and spit quietly onto the head, spreading it with her thumb so the skin turned glossy. She hit record again.

“A little wetter now,” she said, voice softer. “Still soft. Still yours to play with. Stroke it slowly. Feel the skin move. Play with his balls… like this.”

Her hand cradled his balls, fingers moving in slow circles, while the other stroked the shaft with long, lazy pulls. The soft cock thickened gradually under the attention. Cheri’s own breathing had gone uneven; the hand between her legs moved in matching rhythm.

“It’s getting heavier in your hand,” she whispered. “Thicker. You’re doing that. Keep stroking. Keep imagining these are your hands.”

She worked him with patient, explicit focus—sometimes using both hands on the shaft, sometimes one hand stroking while the other rolled and tugged his balls, sometimes just holding the weight of it and letting her thumb circle the head. The downward camera stayed locked on the action. Manny’s cock grew fully hard under her fingers, the veins standing out, the head darkening and starting to leak.

“Look at it now,” she said, voice rougher. “Hard. Thick. Throbbing in your hands. You got it this way. Keep stroking. Feel how the head flares when you tighten your grip… right there.”

She demonstrated the tighter stroke, twisting slightly on the upstroke, spreading the precum with her thumb. Her other hand stayed busy with his balls, fingers pressing and rolling. The wet sound of her hand on his cock was clear in the quiet room.

“Faster if you want,” she murmured. “These are your hands. This is your cock to play with. Look at how it’s leaking for you. Keep going.”

She paused only once more, just long enough to lean in and take him briefly into her mouth from outside the frame—wet, deep suction that left him even shinier—then returned to stroking with both hands while her voice continued.

“Last part,” she said, clearly close herself. “Stroke it like you mean it. Feel every inch. Play with his balls while you do it. When it throbs harder… when it starts to pulse… you’re the one who got it there.”

She kept her hands moving in long, firm, wet strokes, one hand occasionally dropping to squeeze and roll his balls, until Manny’s breathing turned rough and the thick cock was dark and rigid in her grip. Then she stopped the recording.

The second the light went off she climbed onto him fully.

Manny sat up, grabbed her under the ass, and stood, lifting her with him. Cheri’s legs locked around his waist as he lowered her onto his cock. He started thrusting up into her in steady, powerful strokes, hands gripping her ass, using her weight to drive himself deeper. Each upward snap of his hips forced a wet sound from between her legs. Cheri clung to his shoulders, face pressed to his neck, as her orgasm hit hard—her pussy clenched and a heavy spray of fluid gushed out around his cock, running down his balls. He kept thrusting through it, and another climax followed while he was still holding her, her thighs shaking, more wetness spilling between them.

He carried her to the bed and laid her on her back without pulling out. His thrusts became longer and deeper, hips rolling so the thick head dragged against her front wall on every stroke. Cheri’s hands gripped his shoulders as her body arched; her orgasm rolled through her in a long, shuddering wave, pussy fluttering and spilling around him. He kept the same rhythm and she came again, wetter, legs trembling against his sides.

He rolled them so she was on top. Cheri rode him with deep, grinding circles, taking him to the base on every downward push. Manny’s hands guided her waist. She came while leaning forward to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as her pussy clenched and released in pulsing waves. Another climax followed while she was still grinding, her whole body shaking.

Manny flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her hips up, and thrust back into her from behind. His strokes were harder, deeper, one hand reaching under to rub her clit. Cheri’s face pressed into the sheets as she came, thighs trembling, fluid running down her legs. He kept thrusting and rubbing and she came again, voice breaking into soft, continuous whimpers.

He turned her onto her side, lifted her top leg, and fucked her with long, steady strokes while his fingers worked her clit. Cheri’s orgasm built and broke in a shaking wave, pussy spasming around him. Another followed close behind, leaving her panting and leaking.

When he finally rolled onto his back, Cheri was already sliding down his body, eyes glassy, thighs still twitching.

“My pussy is spasming too much,” she said, voice wrecked. “Just let me suck you dry.”

She took his shiny, throbbing cock into her mouth and sucked with deep, devoted strokes, working him with both hands and her throat. Spit ran down over his balls. Manny’s hand settled in her hair. His hips flexed.

He came with a low groan, pulsing thick ropes down her throat. Cheri swallowed around him, sucking and stroking until she had taken every drop and his cock began to soften on her tongue.

She pulled off slowly, kissed the head, and rested her cheek against his thigh, breathing hard, lips shiny, completely spent.

Manny’s fingers stroked through her hair.

Cheri closed her eyes, still tasting him, still feeling the aftershocks that had left her legs useless.