Bitch, I Love You - Sex Stories

Bitch, I Love You

... time with the faint noises coming from between her legs. The overlong shirt sleeve's cuff had been pulled up to Heather's wrist, giving her access to herself. But that still left a tussle of loose fabric to fall along the back of her hand. On the other side of it, I lay my fingers overtop hers, letting her subtle motions translate to me through the fabric, like a piano teacher might follow along with her student's technique.

Through a parting of her curls, my cheek found Heather's. The corner of her jaw moved against mine in a rhythm matched by both the sloppy sounds of her throat being fucked, and the practiced dance of her fingers.

I couldn't bear it anymore. I curled my hand against the back of Heather's, gathering the fabric barrier up and out of the way.

When I touched the back of her hand, skin on skin now, she froze. At least, her fingers did. Above the waist, she was less in control.

Heather turned her head, a little freer of movement now that I guided it with only one hand. Davin pulled back, thick spittle connecting him to her before it snapped to join the rest of its like down her chin and shirt.

"Not yet," Heather gasped with the only air left in her lungs before she toppled forward against Davin's thighs in a fit of coughing and desperate heaving breaths.

I pulled my fingers out from between Heather's thighs like they'd been burned.

Not yet.

I should have thrilled at the promise. But for some reason, the cheek-burning sting of rejection ...

... filled me up instead. It knocked me out of the present, into some dissociated space where I was just an observer, a tool to hold Heather's mouth in place while Davin fucked it. The two of them became, in a way, porn.

Even as Heather pushed Davin off her, a straining sustained shove against his thighs to get his attention; even as she stood up, shaking out her hair and unabashedly wiping her chin; even as she reached down to gather up the athletic shirt and pull it over her head, her pale naked ass and inviting back dimples practically in my face; I just knelt there and watched.

Heather took herself to the bed, facing Davin as she did. He followed her like his glistening cock was a dousing rod. She lay back and pulled up her knees so that he had to part them for her, tension in her thighs and mischief in her eyes as she fought him, knowing she'd lose. He revealed her to us both. She was sparkling wet and stuck together for a moment before unfurling, flawless and feminine.

Heather's eye contact was wild. I was dimly aware that I ought to be taking notes as she managed to hold Davin's full focus even as he rubbed, and then positioned, himself between her legs.

"Do it," her eyes said to him. And her mouth formed into a perfect, "Oh," as he obeyed. It was performative, but in a way that made you feel there was truth to it.

"Ah." Heather's pornstar eyes closed in response to Davin's thrusting. He wasn't rough, but the weight of him rippled through her in all the places ...