Swear that it will never feel as good as sinking into Sera will. How she’ll gasp when I first enter her. How her pussy will be hot and wet and grip me so tight I’ll never want to leave. How she’ll take me as I thrust into her, over and over and over.
What a good girl she’ll be. Such a fucking good girl.
The Sera in my mind flushes at the praise, her pulse kicking, her pussy squeezing.
My little Marya loves being called a good girl.
I can barely stand it anymore. The flames licking across my limbs as I picture her beneath me, practically feel her mouth against mine. Smell her skin, pleasure and sweat mixing into a perfume all her own.
“Fuck, Sera.” I groan, eyes screwed so tight, the woman in my mind exploding, soaking me with her release as my whole body jerks. Pleasure rockets up my spine as I throttle my cock, my orgasm hitting me like a boulder to the head. Jet after jet of cum paints my hand, my clothes, the wall in front of me.
I’m gasping before it’s over, the intensity of it so overwhelming I can barely stay standing. I lean against the wall, palm wet, idly stroking myself as I wait for my vision to come back online. Wait for the afterglow to kick in.
But that’s the thing about doing it solo. No matter how good it feels in the moment, no matter how vivid the fantasy, it all turns anemic when reality sets in. Some part of me is satisfied, sure. I can walk around without an embarrassing hard-on, atleast. But no sooner do I wipe my hand clean than the longing to see Sera comes back with a vengeance.
The scent of her skin drugging me all over again.
I’m in my post-orgasmic muddle when I hear something outside the room. A quick glance tells me that my office door isn’t completely closed. It must’ve bounced back open when I slammed it, leaving a gap about an inch wide.
A gap just large enough for me to see the retreating form of a woman, midnight black hair streaming out behind her as she runs away.
13
SERA
He said he’d be watching. It’s only fair I get to watch too. But that?—
Holyshit. I didn’t think it was possible to be even angrier and more turned on at the same time. I was wrong.
Alik was getting himself off to fantasies of me.
I stumble into the living room, brace myself against the back of the sofa as I try to catch my breath.
Watching that,him… I’m hot all over. Achy in places I forgot existed. Wet. Shockingly, embarrassingly wet between my thighs. My pussy is pulsing like a second heartbeat, one that only gets stronger, more insistent as I think about what I just witnessed.
His hand around his cock.
His head tipped back in pure bliss.
His release white and thick and heavy on his skin.
My name on his lips as he came all over himself.
Porca miseria! Feeling this aroused after being dried out and dormant for so long is seriously screwing with me. My face feels like it’s on fire, my spine dissolving into goo.
My nipples are painful points against my sports bra. I palmone breast, squeeze it, trying to relieve the pressure, but it only intensifies.
How dare he get me so worked up.
How dare he kiss me and touch me and then abandon me on the floor like I’m something that can be discarded, left behind, ignored.
I fucking hate him.
But in this moment, I hate myself too. BecauseIstarted it. I kissed him. I wanted him. Want him still. Even if he’d rather get off with his own hand than with me.
He wants to watch from afar? Fine, let him.
Fueled by thwarted lust and damaged pride, I start to strip in Alik’s living room. I don’t know where the cameras are, but I’m sure he’s installed enough to have an amazing view.