Touching her and making her watch
I can't remain still while she's on my lap. I can sense her warmth. It's in my mind, yet I can somehow sense when her pussy is craving enough to pulse. Yet when she sits in my lap, turned away and gazing at our reflection, and we both notice her needy expression, it brings me an immense sense of tranquility.
Causing her to see her chaos, my expression, both our reflections in the mirror, her disorder in the reflection (if it's present) really affects her arousal. Gentle whispering moves her toward a shimmering, swollen pussy quicker than she expects.
She doesn't require a cloth underneath her leak; my thighs will absorb everything. I'll have plenty to explore when I spread her legs apart, hold them open, and tease every inch there is to tease. It's so pleasing to see my fingers vanish more effortlessly as everything becomes wetter and shinier. Spotless yet undeniably grimy.
It's essentially an artistic form of entertainment for us both and even more so for her. Only our bodies melded in the warmth, and our rhythmic breaths harmonizing.
I caress her everywhere - her breasts, her hips, her glutes, her abdomen. I require one hand to stabilize her, but by the end, both my hands reach the perfect place between her lips. Forearms and wrists restraining her as my hand transitions from a touch, to a playful flick, to a soothing rub, to guaranteed devastation. It's a loop of groans of satisfaction and desire - nearly agony from being denied the release of letting it out.
How the session concludes is irrelevant when it starts out like this