We’re doing this! We’re doing this!
Fuck.
Be quiet, Everlee. Don’t make a fucking sound.
My dress lifts higher, just before I hear his zipper sliding down. A second later, I feel the head of his cock at my entrance, pausing.
Teasing.
Impatience threatens my muscles. I want to push back and take him, but he’s toying with me. Testing me. His hand slowly glides his cock in and a shiver races through my body as I stretch around him.
Fuck me, he feels so good.
I suck in a breath.
“Not a fucking sound or I stop.” His voice is rough. Commanding.
I nod eagerly as he pulls his hard cock out slowly before pressing it back in again.
A moan almost escapes, but I swallow that bitch back down.
My hands grip to the table as he picks up speed, pushing into me faster and faster. He grabs my hair and pulls it back, arching my face up to the ceiling. “Do you like this?”
I nod.
“You like me fucking you in public? Does it get you off knowing that at any second someone could walk up those stairs and find me fucking you from behind with you bent over a table?”
My eyes cut to the stairs, fear quickly replaced by something else. Something more. A tingle in my stomach.
“You do like it. The thrill and excitement of it all. I had an idea the first time I fucked you on the bed for the boys. The way your pussy dripped all over my cock when you saw them watching you. I saw the way you performed for them, grabbing your breasts, touching yourself.”
A deep breath blows out of my nose. It was the only thing I could do not to moan out. His cock and his words are driving me crazy. Driving me into a state of sweet oblivion.
Heels tap on the floor below at the base of the stairs, and my heart stops for a second. I realize in a flash it’s not because I’m scared they’re coming up, but I’m scared they’re not. I want them to see me getting fucked by Callum. I want them to know who I belong to.
Who he belongs to.
Who they all belong to.
“Goodnight,” a voice calls from downstairs.
“Answer her,” he commands, letting my hair go.
“Goo-” My words get stuck in my throat.
“Try again,” he commands, pumping into me faster and faster.
“Good night,” I squeak out at the same time his fingers move around to my clit.
I growl out a sound, rocking back into him, pressing my arms against the table.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, my little exhibitionist. That’s what you are. Did you know that?”
I didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me. The first time I had experienced anything like that was the first time I was with Callum. He was right. Having those guys watch me unleashed something inside of me and then when I left them, I still searched for that feeling. Which is how and why I turned to living room masturbation with the windows open. I wanted my neighbors to see me. I wanted them to watch me.
That sounds a little fucked up, but also so right.
His hands drop to my waist as he grabs both sides and fucks me. I can tell he’s getting close by the way he shifts and the breaths he takes. As the orgasm pushes closer, so does the need to bring it there. My body begins to take over, taking what it needs. Willing to do anything to get to the finish line.
