I shake my head slowly.
“Can I show you what I want it to be like with him, whoever he’ll be?”
She rolls her hips, her back arching and her waist rising up again and again.
If I’d stayed, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from tasting her until she screamed.
I hold my phone over my head, looking up at her as I lie back on the bed. “I’m watching.”
She slips her panties off her ass and slides them down her legs. “Good,” she taunts, “because that’s what I want. I want him obsessed with watching me, and I want to see you at family gatherings someday, knowing you loved watching me too.”
She pulls a rope out of her bedside drawer, but as she wraps it around the post on her footboard, I see it’s not a rope at all. It’s a long string of pearls—about two feet. The kind women loop around their neck two or three times.
I can barely breathe as I watch her remove the T-shirt and kneel on the bed, securing the string of beads.
Straddling the rope with one knee on the bed and one foot on the ground, she places a hand behind her, pulling the pearls taut as she takes the bed post in her other hand and starts riding them.
“Quinn…” I breathe out.
What the fuck? She slides her pussy up and down the tight necklace, each little pearl tickling her clit. A moan escapes her, then a whimper, getting louder and louder.
Where did she learn this?
“He digs his fingers into my hips,” she says, fucking her imaginary man, “staring up at me like he wants it to go all night.”
I look up at her on the screen like she’s sitting on me now.
“His breath is heavy, pumping his hips up and pressing himself deeper…” She coos. “…and deeper inside me.”
I squeeze my dick, rubbing her panties over the drip seeping out.
“The room is dark.” Her voice shakes. “The air is thick, and he sticks his thumb in my mouth so all of his friends in the next room don’t hear me coming.”
I thrust my hips, pumping my dick into my hand.So all of her brothers in the next room don’t hear her…
Jerking her hips, she rides faster, her breasts bobbing.
“But he just stops caring,” I tell her, joining in, “because he pulls you forward and covers your breast with his mouth.”
She follows my lead, leaning forward, and I feel my arm around her waist, pressing her flesh between my lips.
“He glides his tongue over your nipple,” I say.
She whimpers. “It feels good.”
“What does he feel like?”
“Hard.” She starts crying out. “And thick, like a rod pumping into me.”
“Fuck him,” I beg. “Fuck him, baby.”
I fucking wish I was him.
“I’m dripping down his cock.”
“Fuck him harder,” I growl.
“I will.”
