5. 5 #2
I could feel him, but he hit differently. Thinner, shorter, the stretch minimal compared to what my body had learned to expect. I pushed the thought away and began to move, my hips finding a rhythm that was familiar and practiced.
At first, there was something almost defiant in the way I rode Brandon. I am here with him, I thought, my movements sharp and claiming. I am his. You can only watch. I ground down harder, taking Brandon deeper, showing Victor exactly what he was missing, what he could not have.
But Victor did not look away. His eyes stayed locked on me, his arm moving. He was stroking his cock!
He might be jealous but he was also enjoying this. He was enjoying me.
The realization sent a fresh pulse of heat through my cunt. I became acutely aware of his attention, of the way his gaze tracked my breasts bouncing, the way my stomach muscles flexed, the way my cunt gripped his son's cock. He was watching me get fucked, and he was getting off on it.
My arousal intensified, sharp and urgent. I rode Brandon harder, faster, no longer performing for Victor but using Brandon's body to chase my own pleasure. My fingers found my clit, circling in tight, desperate strokes, and I looked directly at Victor, letting him see my face, my need.
Brandon groaned beneath me, his hands gripping my waist, his hips thrusting upward to meet my downward strokes. "Fuck, Zoe," he gasped. "You feel so good."
He thought this was for him. He thought my sudden enthusiasm, my desperate riding, my ragged breaths were all because of him, because of his body, because of our love.
He had no idea that I was fucking him with my eyes locked on his father, that every roll of my hips was designed to make Victor want me, to make Victor need me, to prove that even while I was full of his son, I was still his.
The pleasure built to a crest, my thighs burning, my clit throbbing under my fingers. I was so close. I rode Brandon harder, chasing it, my gaze never leaving Victor's silhouette, my body responding to being watched, to being wanted, to the sheer depravity of what we were doing.
Brandon cried out beneath me, his body jerking upward in a final, desperate thrust. His hands scrabbled at my waist, and I felt his cock pulse, but I didn't stop. I ground down hard, chasing my own orgasm.
But Brandon was done. His cock softened and slid out from between my swollen lips. I continued to grind for a few more strokes, my fingers still working my clit, my body trembling on the edge of release. One final push, one more look at Victor to send me over...
I looked at Victor one last time.
He was gone.
A sob of pure frustration caught in my throat.
My body was a live wire of unspent energy, humming with a need that had nowhere to go.
The pressure inside me didn't fade; it coiled, tighter and hotter, a knot of denied release that made my teeth ache.
My clit pulsed with a frantic, desperate beat, a trapped heartbeat against my frantic fingers.
Brandon shifted beneath me, a contented sigh rumbling in his chest. His arm, heavy with satisfaction, wrapped around my waist, pulling me down against his sweat-slicked skin. "Jesus, Zoe," he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with sleep. "That was... wow."
He didn't know. He didn't feel the frantic, clawing need still tearing through me. He thought we had shared that. He thought his pleasure was mine.
I buried my face against his shoulder, the smell of his skin, our sex, and the forest filling my lungs.
My body trembled with the force of holding back a scream.I did not answer.
I could not. My focus had narrowed to the point where Victor stood and the mounting pressure between my legs.
I was using Brandon now, using his cock to get myself off, grinding down on him with a violence that was entirely about the man watching us from the darkness.
"Baby," Brandon breathed, his voice breaking. "You are so fucking hot right now."
He thought this was for him. He thought my sudden enthusiasm, my desperate riding, my ragged breaths were all because of him, because of his body, because of our love.
He had no idea that I was fucking him with my eyes locked on his father, that every roll of my hips was designed to make Victor want me, to make Victor need me, to prove that even while I was full of his son, I was still his.
The pleasure built to a crest, my thighs burning, my clit throbbing under my fingers. I was so close. I rode Brandon harder, chasing it, my gaze never leaving Victor's silhouette, my body responding to being watched, to being wanted, to the sheer depravity of what we were doing.
Brandon cried out beneath me, his cock pulsing, his orgasm sudden and sharp. I felt him finish, felt the condom fill, and I kept moving, desperate, so close, my own climax just within reach.
But Brandon was done. He went soft beneath me almost immediately, his hands loosening on my waist, his breathing slowing. I slowed my strokes, my fingers still working my clit, my body trembling on the edge of release.
I looked at Victor one last time.
He was gone.
A sob of pure frustration caught in my throat.
My body was a live wire of unspent energy, humming with a need that had nowhere to go.
The pressure inside me didn't fade; it coiled, tighter and hotter, a knot of denied release that made my teeth ache.
My clit pulsed with a frantic, desperate beat, a trapped heartbeat against my frantic fingers.
Brandon shifted beneath me, a contented sigh rumbling in his chest. His arm, heavy with satisfaction, wrapped around my waist, pulling me down against his sweat-slicked skin. "Jesus, Zoe," he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with sleep. "That was... wow."
He didn't know. He didn't feel the frantic, clawing need still tearing through me. He thought we had shared that. He thought his pleasure was mine.
I buried my face against his shoulder, the smell of his skin, our sex, and the forest filling my lungs.
My body trembled with the force of holding back a scream, terrified I might say something I couldn't take back.
He held me until the sensation passed, laughing softly against my ear as he pulled me down against him.
"Jesus, Zoe. Where the hell did that come from?"
"I don't know," I lied. I knew exactly where it had come from.
Brandon settled beside me with a contented sigh and pulled the blankets around us. I curled against him automatically, my body still humming with unspent energy, a frantic pulse beating between my legs. He kissed the top of my head, oblivious.