Page 57 of A Stealthy Situation

“Touch me,” I beg.

His hand slips from my chest to wrap deliciously around my length. He strokes me to the rhythm he’s pounding out against my ass, dick rubbing against my oversensitive balls. They’re tight and full, wanting to release, but I’m fighting it.

My whole body feels like it’s floating, unable to wrap my head around that this is happening, and Harrison’s the one who instigated it again. Will it be the last time, or will he want more? Will I?

Fuck, I don’t know, but my gut is swimming, and my chest feels full, and I need to come as desperately as I’m trying to stop it.

He straightens behind me, fucking my thighs faster, each thrust punctuated by a grunt, and my gaze catches his reflection in the glass. Hat backward, face angled down like he’s watching as he fucks me. His arm muscle is working overtime to jerk me off, and his hand around mine is tight. So tight.

Zaps are building up deep inside of me, filling my cock and vibrating out to my limbs. I feel filthy and used and sweaty and high and like sex will never be this fucking hot ever again.

Almost as soon as I have that thought, I lose it. My dick throbs as the first rope of cum streaks across the glass, and Harrison keeps stroking me, milking my cock dry until he’s got every drop.

“Motherfucker,” he moans, but it’s not until my orgasm rush is seeping out of me that I notice the sticky wetness over my balls and running down my inner thighs.

He’s panting, forehead resting on the back of my neck while he catches his breath, and my eyes drift closed, letting the coolness of the air reach my senses again.

Harrison lets out a long, slow groan that morphs into a laugh. “Well, shit.”

“Exactly my thoughts.”

Instead of letting go of my hand, he pulls it back and presses a kiss to my palm.

My heart fucking stops.

He releases me and steps back, tugging his pants back up his thick legs. “I swear, when you’re around, I just lose my damn mind. Anyone could have come up here.”

“Two people did come up here.”

“You’re the fucking worst.”

“Good.” I’m glad that weird little moment is over. “You’re learning.”

Harrison reaches into the bag he brought with him and pulls out some napkins. He hands some to me to clean up and wipes down the wall himself.

I’m still sticky, and my pubes are going to give me hell later, but at least I’m mostly cum-free by the time I pull my pants back up.

“God, you had a lot of cum in you,” he says, taking the napkins and tossing them back in the bag before pulling me to him by my hips. “Take it you had fun?”

“Obviously. But I still didn’t get a good look at your dick.”

He grins, bright and confident, as he looks down at me. “Next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes.”

I’m caught off guard by how much I like that he’s sure.

“M-maybe I can finally give you that blow job?”

“Maybe.” He kisses me gently. “But for now, food. And I have some friends for you to meet.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Do these friends have stems and roots and are kinda green?”

“Damn, you know me so well.”

“Yeah.” I pause at that thought. “I really do.”

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