Under Everyday Clothes - Sex Stories

Under Everyday Clothes

... hand left my hair for a brief moment, and the pulses inside me shifted one last time.

This was it, the highest setting, both fast with its pulses and ruthlessly powerful.

"Oh god," I moaned out loud against Siobhan's breast. With her hand on my cock, the sensation from the plug was mostly pleasure, rather than discomfort or frustration, but the intensity was overwhelming.

"Shh," said Siobhan. "Be a good boy. Don't be heard. Don't be seen. Just lie there and enjoy it."

I took her nipple back into my mouth, and then sucked in more of the flesh beyond, using her as a gag, trying desperately to stifle the sounds still trying to escape out of me.

"Whereare Siobhan and her beau, by the way?" someone asked quite clearly, from near the back porch.

I tensed up and knew that Siobhan could feel it.

"Shh," she whispered again. "They're not going to think what we're doing is okay."

My heart beat faster.

"ButI'm telling you it is," Siobhan went on. "What matters more, what they say or what I say?"

"You," I murmured almost inaudibly through my mouthful of breast.

"Good," said Siobhan. "Because I'm telling you that you're adorable. And I'm telling you to stay hard and wet and cum for me."

"I might have seen them go upstairs," said someone else, very close, probably in the stairwell. "Should we send a search party?"

I made what noise I was capable of, asking Siobhan to say something, either to let me know if we really did need to stop, or to assure me ...

... again that we didn't.

"The sooner you cum," she whispered, "the sooner I can let you cover up."

I closed my eyes and thought about that. I thought about lying here in cute baby blue lingerie, with my everyday clothes at the ready to hide it all away again with no one the wiser.

I did my best to give myself over to the power of the plug's vibrations, and Siobhan's hand, bringing me ever closer to an inevitable, explosive, ecstatic conclusion.

All I had to do was lie here.

Was that a footstep on the stairs? Or just a creaky floorboard somewhere in the kitchen?

I was going to make such a mess when it happened, and then what? How much longer would it take us to clean up? How thoroughly could we do it?

The building pleasure and pressure inside me wove together with wild visions of Siobhan's mother examining this room with a blacklight later. Of me having to spend the rest of the evening explaining away an extremely suspicious new splatter stain up the front of the shirt I was still wearing.

Siobhan kept pumping, not seeming at all concerned.

"That's my good boy," she whispered. "You've got them all fooled for me. They all think you're my normal, boring, respectable boyfriend, and they're going to keep thinking that. But we both know the truth. You're a sweet little freak inside, and I get to play with him whenever I want."

She reached her free hand under me to press on the plug again. The slightest extra pressure overrode what acclimating I'd been able ...