She was away with her sister for the weekend.
He showed me the message she sent him after she reached her destination.
“Made it! Be good while I’m gone 😘”
I stared at the screen for a second too long.
I was already in her house.
Be good.
She had no idea how badly we were about to break that.
It started like nothing.
The air between us buzzed the second I stepped inside.
His eyes kept trailing over me… down my legs, up the line of my waist where my hoodie stopped covering the edge of my lace shorts. I didn’t pack pajamas. Not real ones. I knew exactly what I was doing.
He nodded slowly. “She won’t be back ‘til Monday.”
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
And that was all it took.
It started slow.
The couch.
Close enough to touch, not touching yet.
TV playing something neither of us were watching.
He reached for the remote at the same time I did. Our fingers brushed. His hand didn’t pull away.
I turned to look at him, breath caught in my throat.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. Then lower.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said.
I swallowed.
“No.”
Then his hand was on my thigh.
The kiss was rough. Hungry.
He pulled me into his lap like he couldn’t wait anymore. His hands under my hoodie, gripping my waist, sliding up until they found bare skin.
My nipples were already hard, brushing against the fabric as I pressed my chest to his.
He lifted my hoodie. I raised my arms without a word.
The moment he saw me… naked from the waist up, breasts flushed, nipples aching for touch & his hands were on me.
He cupped them like he needed them. Mouth closing around one, sucking hard, then teasing the other with his thumb, rough and perfect.
I moaned, head falling back.
I could feel him now, hard under his sweatpants, rubbing against the soaked lace of my shorts. I rolled my hips, grinding against him like I was starving for friction and I was.
“Take them off,” he ordered, voice wrecked.
I stood, peeled off my shorts and panties in one go, and dropped back into his lap.
Straddling him.
Completely naked.
Dripping wet.
In her house.
He groaned as I grabbed his waistband, pulled it down, and freed him.
God.
His cock slapped against his stomach… thick, heavy, already leaking. I licked my lips, staring at it.
“I want to ride you,” I whispered. “Right here. Right now.”
His hands gripped my hips.
“Then do it.”
I sank down slow.
The head of his cock stretched me wide as I lowered myself onto him inch by inch, gasping as he filled me.
It hurt just enough to make it feel real.
To make it feel earned.
By the time I took him all the way in, I was trembling.
We held there… both panting & my pussy tight around him, my thighs gripping his, chest heaving.
Then I started to move.
Rocking gently at first. Grinding down.
Feeling him drag against every sensitive spot inside me.
My clit brushing against his pelvis with every roll of my hips.
His hands guided me. Gripped me.
Fingers digging into my ass as I fucked myself on him like I was made for it.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “So wet. Jesus… she has no idea what she left behind.”
That made me moan.
Louder. Needier.
I rode him harder. Faster.
The slap of skin echoing through the quiet house.
My tits bouncing. My body soaking him with every bounce of my hips.
He sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, bit gently, made me cry out.
“I’ve thought about this every night since that call,” I gasped. “When I heard you fuck her and I came all over my fingers…”
“I wished it was you,” he growled, thrusting up into me now. “That whole time… you.”
I came hard.
Right there in his lap.
My pussy spasming around him, my whole body going tight as I shook and moaned into his shoulder.
But he wasn’t done.
Not even close.
He lifted me off him, laid me back on the couch, legs over the armrest.
Then he knelt between them.
I barely had time to gasp before his mouth was on me… tongue lapping at my soaked pussy like he’d gone feral.
He licked every inch. Sucked on my clit. Thrust two fingers into me as he devoured me.
I was already sensitive, already wrecked—and he pushed me higher.
“Oh god—don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He couldn’t.
I came again.
Harder.
His mouth coated in my slick, my thighs clamping around his face as I screamed into a pillow to keep from alerting the neighbors.
When he stood again, his cock was slick, pulsing, angry with need.
He flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips back, and slammed into me from behind.
The couch shook.
My moans turned to cries.
He fucked me like a man possessed.
Balls slapping against me.
One hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping my hip as he pounded into me like he was trying to forget her name entirely.
I felt him getting close with his thrusts turning sloppy, desperate.
“Where do you want it?” he gasped.
I turned, hair wild, eyes blazing.
“Inside.”
He groaned like I’d broken him.
And when he came, he collapsed into me with his cock twitching, hot cum flooding my pussy, leaking out even as he kept thrusting shallowly, chasing every last drop.
We lay there.
Spent. Sticky.
His cum dripping down my thighs.
My body wrecked and aching in all the best ways.
And this weekend wasn’t over.
And we weren’t done.
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