Page 19 of Contrition

My cock twitched at her answer. God, I wanted to see her shake so fucking bad.

Immediately, my mind pulled to the memory of the few times I had caught her and Zack fooling around years ago. They had no shame regarding their intentions of fooling around in public, and while it grossed me out in the beginning…it only made me hornier and hornier as time went on.

I decided early only that something had to be wrong with me.

I had researched exactly why I enjoyed it so much in the beginning. Hyper-fixated on it, even. Something had to be wrong with me for me to enjoy watching my brother—my own flesh and blood—make his girlfriend cream on his own cock. Time spent on research and forums had suggested voyeurism.

Turns out that if I couldn’t be a performer, I would be a watcher instead.

That it was natural for human beings to enjoy the sight of each other in intense pleasure. That it merely scratched at a primal part of our brains.

It didn’t explain the jealousy, though. The intense, aching,over-consumingjealousy.

And then the day came when I caught her masturbating by herself. Twenty-years-old, a stark contrast to my thirty-years-old self at the time, watching her spread her summer-tanned legs and stuff her pretty, wet pussy with her own fingers through the crack of Zack’s bedroom door. Her hair, as long and curly as it was in the present, spilled around her as her back arched and her breaths came out in silent little puffs.

I was a fucking pervert.

But it was the hottest thing I had witnessed in my entire life.

And when I watched through the crack of Zack’s bedroom door, my hand fumbled through the zipper of my jeans and took out my cock, stroking and aching, just as I was now hearing Zack eating her out in the damned hotel.

She never saw me. Hell, she never even realized I had the personification of an adult crush on her while my brother talked about proposing for weeks—let alone that I was down bad enough to watch her masturbate through the crack of a door.

I should have been an adult and walked away. Not watched. Not touch myself.

But I didn’t do either of those things. And those moans and spasms had haunted me every single day for years.

I would be damned if I didn’t get to witness them again. Especially given the fact that the future was extremely undetermined, and if my last chance to see Estrella cum was at the hands of my brother once again…then so be it.

I kicked off my boxers entirely as I stood up—fist still moving in languid strokes as I crept silently toward the door—only to oh-so-quietly turn the knob and crack the door open a few inches.

The sight before me made my knees go weak, and I leaned against the door frame for support.

Estrella’s legs were wrapped tightly around Zack’s head as he tongue fucked our girl to hell and back. One of her hands pulled at his short hair as her hips shifted into him, mewls leaving her throat, as the other scratched down his back. Even in the dark, with their features hardly unrecognizable, I could still make out the sight of her legs shaking. I would bet our entire band’s equity that she was mere moments away from crossing the finish line.

It was that realization that had me turning my languid strokes into quick, heavy ones. I heard the soft slapping sounds of my hand against my own length, meaning they probably could, too, if they stopped for even a second, but I somehow didn’t find it in me to care at that moment.

If things worked out in our favor, I was here to stay. Right in their dynamic.

If things worked out against our favor, neither of us would probably see Estrella again.

Fuck it.

Zack groaned as his own hips shifted into the couch marginally. “C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. I know you’re right there.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Tell me something. Anything. Just—fuck—talk.”

Immediately, I felt a tingle go up my own spine at the sound of her begging and whining, and my balls drew heavy and tight soon after. I squeezed my hand against my length even more, craving the feeling of her spasming pussy around me desperately.

My brother’s wife.

But my princess, too.

Zack’s forearm shifted as he added another finger to the mix. I couldn’t tell how many digits were inside of her, but regardless—between the additional stretch and the presumed curling, her moans only got louder, and my breathing only got ragged.

I wanted to come with her, though. Even as my abdomen flexed tightly.

Zack’s voice was rough. “I’m never letting you go again,mi Estrella. Theo is never letting you go again, either. You belong to us. You are ours. And one day,” his hand moved up to firmly press against her lower abdomen, forcing her to let out a scream of pleasure at the added sensation, “one day, you’ll take us both until you’re carrying our baby, too. So, give me this fucking orgasm now, before you don’t have a choice in the matter at all.”

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