I groan, sliding my hand up and down.
Carla.
No.
I can’t help but picture her again. This time she’s on her back, legs spread, lace soaked through, looking up at me with those wide, pretty blue eyes.
She shoves her panties to the side so that I can get a good look at her pussy.
I groan, my hand working my shaft, my balls pulling tighter.
I slow down a little. In my mind’s eye, I’m climbing onto her, between her thighs. Her pussy is so snug it almost hurts when I shove into her. She rakes her nails down my back, begging me for more. Begging me to give her every inch of my cock.
Holy shit.
I’m going straight to hell for this.
Carla
Does Magma expect me to wait in here?
He didn’t say.
My legs feel a little cramped, and I’m stiff. I decide to carefully crawl out.
I’m not sure I’m allowed to leave on my own, but I really need to pee.
I push the branches aside and listen. Nothing growls. Nothing moves that shouldn’t.
I crawl out into a gray-green world. The light is muted, filtering down through layer after layer of leaves overhead, but it’s enough to see by, which I’m grateful for.
I push myself up and stretch; it feels good. My legs ache from yesterday, and my feet are tender, but I can manage. I have to.
I pick my way through the undergrowth, putting some distance between myself and the shelter, scanning the trees the way Magma showed me. Not that I’m any good at it.
That’s when I hear it. A groan, I think, from somewhere just ahead.
Crap!
What was that?
I freeze, then duck behind the nearest tree, peering around the trunk toward the sound.
My mouth falls open, and my eyes go very wide.
I swallow thickly because it’s Magma and he’s…
My face goes hot. Magma is jerking off.
Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I should look away. I should turn around right now and leave.
I don’t.
I’m afraid he’ll hear me. I could look away, though, but I don’t because the sight of him has me gaping.
He makes that low sound again, his hand working up and down his thick cock. He’s so big down there. Bigger than I realized. His abs are flexing and shifting with every stroke of his fisted hand. The muscles in his arm stand out in hard lines all the way to his shoulder. His eyes are closed. His teeth catch on his bottom lip. Up. Down. Up. Down.
