20. Amy
Amy
"Username?" I ask in confusion.
My thighs are a little slick, rubbing together as I walk. Just enough friction to drive me insane when paired with the warmth of his body at my back, but not enough to help me get to any level of relief I need.
He's steering us to a few tables behind the hotel, with large umbrellas providing shade from the sun. The crowd at the beach is packing up, and the tables are empty.
My heart races as Liam guides me to a secluded chaise behind the tables. It's not entirely private, but the corner location offers some seclusion from passersby.
Snippets of conversation drift by, as people discuss where they're going to eat and other evening plans. No one seems to care about the two of us, despite what I feel is a flashing neon sign above my head. Look here, guys! A girl wants to get railed here! Free tickets!
Liam settles onto the chaise and pulls me between his legs, my back pressed against his solid chest. His arms encircle my waist, his breath hot against my ear, and my entire body shudders with need.
"Are you finally paying attention, angel?" His deep voice sends shivers down my spine.
I lean into him, relishing his warmth and the firmness of his body. Without prompting, even as I see people walking by, I slide my legs open, hooking my legs over his.
"Maybe." The coy words come out of me with ease. It's a thrill to tap into that badass slut inside me. "Depends what you're offering to keep my interest."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through me. His hands caress along my thighs, rubbing and kneading in a firm, nonsexual massage.
Until his finger slides a little higher, brushing against the edge of my panties for a second.
Only a second. And then it's gone again.
Liam. And. His. Teasing.
Jesus.
"Oh, I have ways of captivating you fully." His fingers skim along the hem of my skirt, but still he does little more than massage my thighs with firm, practiced motions. "But I think you've already forgotten the question."
"What question?"
His lips touch my ear, sending ticklish little shivers down my neck and back. My entire body erupts in goosebumps, and his hands keep my thighs open when I want to slam them shut, seeking friction.
"My username, angel. Are you going to be a good girl and ask for it?"
"Will you give it to me if I ask?"
"No." He presses a kiss behind my ear, his warm breath ghosting against my skin. Those calm massaging movements become a little jerky, his fingers digging into my skin more painfully as his hips roll against me, shoving that hard length of his against my lower back and ass.
His groan is an aphrodisiac. Knowing I can affect him this way, even as he takes control? Bliss.
Liam's words are a low rumble in my ears. "I'm going to slide my hands up and touch you, angel. Tease you over those sexy little panties until they're soaked and dripping. Do you want that?"
I nod. Yes. Yes, I do. Very much.
He growls. "Say it, angel. Tell me what you want."
"I want you to play with my pussy, Liam." My words are a whisper, my cheeks red. Saying these things out loud—it's not like I haven't done them before. And sometimes I get into the mood and it comes out without thinking.
But this?
Here?
Now?
The embarrassment makes me writhe and wriggle, and I pant as his hands slide up my inner thighs.
"There are so many people walking by, Amy. If they turn this way, they'll be able to see you. See your legs spread wide. Are you an angel, Amy? Or are you my little slut? Will you come all over my fingers when someone comes by? Will you squirt until I'm soaked in your come as they watch?"
Fuck. My hips jerk toward his hands and I keen softly, desperate for his touch. Desperate for something to rub against my pussy, aching and pulsing with need. I could hump his fucking leg to orgasm if he would just let me.
"Answer me, Amy."
"I'm your slut. I'll come all over your fingers if you can please put them inside me already."
"Good girl."
Shit. Those two words do all sorts of unholy and delicious things to my insides, and I gasp as he cups my entire center with his hand, rubbing over my entrance with his middle finger, frustratingly just beyond the barrier of silk that keeps me somewhat modest under these damned clothes.
I want his fingers inside me. Deep inside, curled to rub against my G-spot and bring stars to my vision.
But his other hand holds my hips down, making it so I can't shove against him.
"Liam," I hiss, and he sucks soft little kisses over my neck, tasting me like I'm some sort of sweet and delicate dessert.
His palm rubs against my clit, not hard enough, and still he holds me down so I can't buck my hips against his grip.
"You want my fingers inside you, baby girl?"
"Yes."
"You want me to fuck you with my fingers? Fast or slow?"
"Fast. Hard. Don't stop until I explode." Since I can't shove against his hand, I do the opposite and push my ass against his erection, loving his groan against my skin.
"I want to tear your clothes off and bend you over one of those tables while all those people walk by. I want them to see you scream when I shove my cock deep inside you. Filling you until you can't think about anything except how hard you want to be fucked. I want all those pussy men who like to steal glances at you to know that you're mine . All fucking mine."
The impish side of me comes out, wanting to play as he teases me so thoroughly. Still, he's touching me through my panties, in barely there caresses. I need more. Sometimes he presses a little harder, enough to make me think he's finally going to help guide me to orgasm—and then slides away from my clit to do something else, leaving my thighs shaking.
"They'll just go home and jack off to my tits and imagine they're the ones fucking me over this table, Liam. You're going to have to do better than that."
His snarl sends a shiver down my spine, and he shoves a finger past my panties, sliding it inside of me without hesitation.
It glides in without obstruction, and I clench my vagina around him as tightly as I can, moaning at the sensation.
Fuck, yes.
"They can imagine it as much as they want. They can blow their load. But only my cock will be inside you. Only I can shove you down and fuck you until you're begging for mercy."
I swear the snippets of conversation are growing louder, but I don't care. They could walk over and watch his fingers slide inside of me, legs splayed open like the orgasm-chasing slut I apparently am now, and I. Would. Not. Care.
"Harder, Liam." No matter how I push my hips against him, he doesn't give in. "I need more than one finger. Please."
"Beg me, Amy. Show me how much you want it."
There's heat everywhere. My skin's on fire, and I can't sit still, arching against him and writhing against the mess of feelings that all seem to connect straight to my clit. "Please, Liam. I need you. Please let me come."
"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his breath hot against my neck. "You like it when I talk dirty to you."
I nod, frantic as he moves his finger so slowly.
So fucking slowly.
I need more.
"Liam, more ."
"More what? More slowly? More gently?" His touch softens as he speaks, and I groan in frustration.
"Harder. More fingers. Faster."
"One more finger?" The hand at my hip slides down, opening my legs further.
The cool fabric of my skirt is silk against my skin, but it may as well be scratchy wool. The only thing I want to feel is Liam. Everything else is in my way.
He takes advantage as he leans further forward, his fingers pinching and rubbing at my clit in a way that makes my hips jerk. I want to get closer for more, but my body tries to get away because it's too much.
There's conversation coming closer, and my breath stutters as I glance toward the two men walking to a table, not paying any attention to the sinful things happening in our corner. They sit with their backs to us, discussing something. The surf? The waves? I can't tell.
Every time he flicks the pad of his finger across my clit, I see fucking fireworks.
His dark whisper is going to send me straight to hell. I know it, because he's a devil with that rough voice in my ear. "Be careful, baby girl, or they're going to know exactly what I'm doing to you."
My skirt is long enough to cover his hands and any evidence of what he's doing, so I reach down to flick it down for privacy.
Liam shoves it back up, and our hands are caught.
"I don't want them to see," I whisper, not sure if they can hear us.
His other hand is still lazily sliding in and out of me, and the sound is obscene. Loud to my ears. I wonder if those men can hear it.
Liam lets my skirt fall, hiding me from view, and kisses my neck. Once. Twice. Gentle, sweet.
And then he bites my shoulder as he slides another finger inside me. He's no longer gentle. It's fast, furious, and the sound is so loud that there's no way the men can't hear.
As his fingers squelch between my legs, I swallow back a strangled shriek.
Both men stop talking, but I'm too embarrassed to look. To see them staring at us.
"Liam," I hiss, but his hand keeps pumping, his fingers curled and thrusting against my G-spot. I want to ride his hand, to grind myself against those fingers, but I'm frozen in desire and shock when I hear him talking to them .
Talking.
To.
Them.
While his fingers are inside me. Not just inside me. They're thrusting, twisting, curling, finding every little spot that makes me gasp.
"You guys okay over there?" one of them calls out, and there's laughter in his words.
He fucking knows.
They both do.
And instead of feeling like I've been doused in cold water, I can feel a burst of warmth down below at the sound of a complete stranger.
Not that his voice is to my liking. It's not.
But knowing he's watching?
I peek in their direction. They're talking to Liam, but their eyes are on me.
On my skirt.
On his hands. They're covered, but you can still see the movement. Still hear it.
Holding my moans back isn't working. Every so often, a sound slips out like a whimper.
"Great," Liam calls out, his voice a casual breeze on a summer day. Like he's not fucking me with his fingers.
"That's hot," the other guy mutters, and Liam laughs against my ear.
"They think you're hot, Amy. Do you want them to see more?" Yep. Straight to fucking hell with his devil whispers.
I shake my head, even as my hips rock against his hand.
But I don't tell him to stop touching me.
I don't want him to stop.
My body tenses as I fight against the instinct to writhe against him. The precipice is right there . I'm going to come any second, as if knowing two strangers are watching us is all I needed to explode.
His fingers grind against my clit in a new rhythm, and I can't.
My moans are louder than I ever intended, and when I open my eyes, I look right at them.
Watching these strangers, as they watch me.
Reasonably attractive. Nice looking guys. Both of them staring at me, while I stare at them.
They're hard.
One of them has his hand over his cock, and I can't tell if he's trying to hide it, or fighting the urge to touch it.
I open my legs wider, watching his sharp intake of breath, the way his eyes widen.
"Liam," I murmur, and I can see the way the other guy's dick jumps at the sound of my voice.
"Yes, baby girl?"
"I want to come. I'm so close."
Watching them both shift their weight, heat flushing their faces as they watch— fuck .
They're a barrier from the eyes of the rest of the world, all the people passing by as they leave the beach. They're unconcerned by the few of us off to the side, too far to hear my moans.
So I reach down and slide my skirt up, a little at a time. Letting these two men catch a peek at what he's doing to me.
We're on vacation, right?
We're all strangers.
It's exhilarating, watching them react to every breath of mine. Every movement.
Liam laughs in my ear. He's breathless now, leaning a little more over me, getting better traction as he slams his hand against my pussy, his fingers driving deep.
They can see all of it, and they love it.
I bend my knees, lifting my legs for a better view, and Liam groans behind me.
His curled fingers keep shoving against that sensitive spot inside, where every touch builds me toward an explosion I'm not sure I'm ready for.
I pant and moan, somehow feeling safer with these two strangers standing there. Free beneath their regard.
But something's still missing. I'm so close, so close , and I can't quite make it over the edge.
Liam seems to understand, because he brings his hand from my clit to my breast, grabbing it all in his hand and squeezing hard.
My answering moan tells him everything I need to know, and my eyes lock with the guy on the left.
He has his hand curled around his dick through his pants. Instead of watching what Liam's doing, he watches me .
Watches as I pant in desire, as I lick my lips. His hand's moving, fisting around himself, and I smile.
That seems to give him courage. His friend, too.
They're both jerking themselves a little as they watch.
I'm going to be dragged to hell by Satan himself for what I'm contemplating. No confessional can save my soul. There's no way this kind of sinful debauchery is okay in the eyes of the angels in heaven.
Right now? I don't care.
I've always liked little thrills.
When Liam twists and pulls on my aching nipple, I fight to keep my eyes open, staring directly at our viewers.
There's no game, no stream, that has ever given me the high I feel right now, as my breath shortens, coming out in rapid pants. I reach behind me, looping my arms around Liam's neck, arching my chest toward his hand as I roll my hips into every thrust of his fingers.
Everything's finally coming together. I can feel the heat in my belly coiling tighter. Every time he squeezes my nipple, there's an electric pulse of need that has me gasping and writhing, begging for more.
Liam's voice is pure passion in my ear as he whispers encouragement, and I lose myself in him, in the feel of his hands, the sound of his voice.
"Come for me, Amy. All over my fingers. Let them see you squirt."
And I do.
Oh, fucking hell, I do .
I swallow my scream, and it ends up more like an unsexy, squeaky groan as my entire body tightens. The next time his fingers slide home, I'm done. There's a warmth that gushes out of me with every thrust of his fingers, leaving all my tense muscles until I'm a hazy mess under the eyes of three men.
If I were poetic, I'd talk about all the stars bursting in my vision as my body explodes from the onslaught of desire and wicked temptations of being watched by strangers.
But I'm not, so I'll just say it straight.
I'm wet. I'm sweaty. My thighs are soaked. I can feel his hands slick against my pussy, cupping it in a warm embrace that affords me the slightest hint of privacy even as I'm on display.
Legs wide open. Feet hanging in the air, on either side of the chaise.
I'm panting little breaths to bring oxygen back to my lungs, and I'm spent .
Both men look a little dazed as they watch me, and I can appreciate the feeling. I am, too.
Did I do that?
Did that happen ?
Did I let him finger me to orgasm in front of two random men?
The only saving grace I can give myself is that they're off to the side of us, not straight-on staring down my cooch.
And yet I still don't feel embarrassed. Maybe it's because Liam's holding me.
"Show's over, boys," he says, and their eyes jerk to him, off my body, limp as a well-cooked noodle.
So well-cooked.
They leave in a rush of embarrassment and erections that have yet to die down, and I snort a laugh as I watch them go.
Liam rests his chin on top of my head. "You really seem to enjoy live-streaming."