We lock eyes for a quick sec, then Emma twists, steps back, like she’s stepped on somethin’ dirty. It looks like she’s embarrassed and leaving, but then she stops and turns back. Her eyes drop to my hand, still pumpin’ my wet cock, and widen slightly. I don't stop. Fuck it—she already knows what I'm doin’. And after last night, and then hearing them goin’ at it this morning, there's no point in bein’ bashful.

"M-morning, ya little devil," I grunt, my voice still thick with sleep and a whole lotta satisfied sin. A shit-eatin’ grin splits my face, the kind that screams I'm trouble. “You look... mmm... so beautiful.”

“Oh, ah...” She’s speechless. There’s nothin’, then a slow, questioning smile spreads across her face. She looks back at the bedroom, then back at me. This look comes over her; it’s cool and wicked. Without saying a word, she leans against the doorframe, breaths deep, and she lets the robe fall open a bit. One small tit peeks out, the nipple hard and pink.

I look her over, take her all in. My eyes roamed down from her face, over her body, down her slim legs to her toes, and then back up again, each time lingering at her pussy hiding just behind the robe’s edge. Fuck, she’s a sight!

She smiles more openly now, saying, "Don't stop on my account," her voice husky from all that screaming in the bedroom.

I grin, replying “I d-didn’t.” And I don't—I keep stroking, maybe even a little showier now that I have an audience, adding “I heard you like big cocks.”

Emma's eyes stay locked on my cock, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Then she does something that nearly makes me lose it right there—she casually reaches down and pulls aside the bottom of her robe, exposing her pussy. It's glistening wet, swollen from the pounding Pete just gave her. That slut slides a finger between her lips, teasing herself, teasing me. A long, soft “Mmmh,” passes her lips.

"Jesus Christ, Emm," I mutter, my slimy hand slowin’. "You’re an effin’ wet dream.”

The scent hits me then, that unmistakable smell of sex; cum and pussy. Pete's cum, still fresh inside her, probably seeps along the puffy lips. The dirty slut didn't even wipe herself clean before coming out here. It's like she's flaunting it, showing off the evidence of their fuck session.

My nostrils flare, drinking it in. My cock gets even harder in my hand—if that's possible. There's something primal about it, something that speaks directly to the animal part of my brain.

"Couldn't help but overhear you and Pete.” I gesture with my head, indicating the obvious state of my dick. “Ya’ kinda’ got me a b-bit worked up."

Emma's grin widens, her thumb circling her clit now. "I’d say more than a bit," she says, her eyes never leaving my cock. "Looks to me like you've been... enjoying the show."

"Hard not to," I reply, twisting my wrist on the upstroke, making sure she gets a good view. "You two weren't exactly... quiet."

"Neither were you last night," she shoots back, her thumb moving faster. "We loved it, you know, hearing you out here while we fucked."

That thought sends a jolt straight to my effin’ balls. Gets my head racin’. Were they putting on a show for me, fuckin’ like that, knowing I'd hear every sound? Kinda makes sense—they were quiet as church mice when we first fucked, then they were a fuckin’ rock band.

"Come here, babe," I tell her, my voice low and rough.

She pauses what she was doin’, her finger still buried in her pussy. "W-what?" she asks, all innocent, like she's not standing there frigging herself.

"I said, come here," I repeat, louder and more demanding, never stopping the steady rhythm of my hand on my cock.

She looks back again at the bedroom before she takes a step, then stops, looks at me with that playful, nasty smirk of hers. "God, you're such a goddamn slut," she says. But there's no judgment in her voice—just amusement and arousal.

"Ohhh, I'm a slut?" I shoot back, raising an eyebrows and smiling. "What about you and Pete? It's not like you were exactly quiet about your morning fuck-fest. And damn, babe, I can even smell Pete's cum from here."

Emma looks me in the eyes, giggles, like that's the funniest thing she's ever heard. Without breaking her gaze, she pulls her finger out of her pussy and slides it into her mouth, sucking it clean, yankin’ it out with an audible slurp. "You like that, don't you, you dirty boy?" she asks, as she slowly brings her finger back to her pussy, spreading her lips so I can see how wet she is. "You like knowing he just came inside me, don’t you?"

I don't answer, but my cock throbs in my hand, answering for me. Fuck yeah, I fuckin’ like it. I like everything about this crazy, twisted situation.

Emma struts a little closer, real slow, each step deliberate and teasing, like she's puttin' on a private damn show just for my aching cock. Those hips of hers are swinging under that little robe, the silk glimmering in the light. My hand eases up on my cock, trying not to blow my load too quick, but hell, I ain't stoppin’. Not with her giving me that look—half hungry and half teasing.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, her voice a soft, sultry purr. Her eyes drop down from my eyes to my hard cock.

It’s like we’re in some fucked up contest, seeing which one of us can be the filthiest. So I slow my strokes, make them long and real deliberate. I take my time before I answer, think about it, spit on my cock, and give her a good show. "Just thinking about last night, babe," I reply, my gaze dropping to the way her nipples push against the silk, hard little points begging for attention. "And ah..., fantasizing..., ya know..., about us."

“Mmmh...” she hums, fingers slippin’ over her mound. “What kind of..., umh..., fantasies?”

It’s like she’s playin’ a game with me, so I think about my next move. “Umh..., about us..., fucking..., about fuckin’ you..., about fuckin’ you while, ah..., while Pete fucks me in the ass.”

Those words hang in the air between us, raw and explicit. I didn't plan to say it, but here we are. No point in holding back now.

Emma's eyes widen slightly, a spark of pure lust igniting in them. Her mouth parts, tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Oh, wow, yeah..." she breathes, her voice dropping even lower, purring. "Mmmh... I'd love to see Pete fuck you in the ass," she teases, with a filthy, little smirk and giggle.

The way she just spit it out—so casual and charged with desire—sends a fresh wave of heat through me. She takes another step closer, now just a few feet from the couch where I'm sprawled naked. The robe has slipped more open, exposing more of her breast, the curve of her waist, her wet cunt.

"You would?" I ask as I make a show of my strokes, movin’ my hand slow, making sure she sees how hard I am. "Maybe you want both of us fuckin’ you at once? Or m-maybe you'd just like to watch while Pete fucks me?" I let loose a big wad of spit onto my cock, let it loose loud n’ showy, a dare.

"Oh God, yes," Emma nods, her fingers resuming their lazy circles around her clit. "I've been thinking about..., ah..., all sorts of things since last night, when Pete was, umh..., sucking your cock..." She trails off, biting her lower lip at the memory. "Christ, the look on your face, Gabs. The things you did. That was so damn hot."

The fact that she's been fantasizing about this sleazy shit too sends a rush of pure heat straight to my dick. Last night was just a heat-of-the-moment thing, boundaries crossed when we were all worked up. But this here? This is a conscious decision, a wet-pussy urge to go even deeper into the dirt.

"What else have you been thinking about?" I ask, my voice rough with arousal.

Emma's smile turns wicked. She giggles. "So many things. Things I never knew about, never thought I'd want, but now can't stop thinking about." She takes another step closer, and now she’s just a few feet from the couch, from me. "Like watching you and Pete together. Or both of you focusing on me at once. Or all three of us just..."

She waves her hand in this lazy-ass way that somehow manages to hint at every goddamn dirty thing we could do.

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought." I relax back into the couch, stroking myself slowly and more deliberately.

"Haven't you?" Emma challenges, her eyes flicking between my face and my cock. "I mean, you're out here stroking yourself to the sounds of us fucking. I would think your filthy mind would be wandering.”

Fuck, she nails it. All goddamn morning, my brain's been a goddamn porn reel of the three of us tangled up, every twisted position and filthy possibility I'd only ever jacked off to playing out in real life. And the messed-up thing? It doesn't feel weird or wrong. It feels like the most natural, primal thing in the goddamn world, like this is how it was always meant to be.

"Yeah," I admit. "Been thinkin’ about all sorts of shit. Like how it would feel to have Pete inside me while I'm inside you. That feedback loop of pleasure—him pushing me deeper into you with each thrust, you squeezin’ your pussy around my cock while my ass squeezes around his."

Emma's breath catches, her pupils dilating even further. "Jesus, Gabs," she whispers. "The things you say... they’re—"

"Too fuckin’ much?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

That cocky little flirt giggles, shakes her head no. "Not even close. Keep going."

So I do, the fantasy spilling out of me now that I know she's into it. "I imagine it would be fucking intense. Pete's got a nice thick cock, knows how to use it. I bet he'd stretch me just right, make me feel every inch of him. And you, Emm, God, you were so tight and wet last night. Having both of you like that, connected, it'd be like nothin’ else."

Emma's breathing is getting heavier now, her finger moving faster against her clit. "It would be incredible," she agrees, her voice husky. "Maybe Pete could cum inside you, and then you could cum inside me. Like a—” She giggles a bit. “A chain reaction."

The image is so vivid, so filthy, my cock jumps in my hand. "Fuck, Emma, babe," I groan. "You're fuckin’ killing me here."

She laughs, a sound filled with both amusement and arousal. "Good. I like seeing you like this—all worked up, desperate. It's a good look on you."

She's close enough now that I can smell her; the sweat from her skin, the musky scent of her arousal, and underneath it all, the distinct, sharp tang of Pete's cum. Shit, that stink is so heavy, I can taste it! Just as she reaches the couch, as if on cue, a thick, milky drop of Pete's cum escapes her wet pussy and slides down her inner thigh. It's such a human moment, this chance exposure of their morning together, of Pete's cumming and Emma's body containing it. There's somethin’ real intimate about seeing it, more intimate somehow than all the hardcore stuff we've done and said. Damn!—It’s such a turn-on!

We both notice it at the same time. Emma flinches a bit, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. A blush creeps up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. It's strange; after all the filthy things we did last night, after how boldly she's been touching herself in front of me, this tiny drip gets her kinda weirded out.

And somehow, that mix of slutty confidence and unexpected shyness is the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen.

"Look at that," she says with an innocent giggle, gesturing to the trail of cum. "I'm a mess."

"A beautiful mess," I correct her, my voice softer than I intended. Our eyes meet, and something passes between us—a shared nod for whatever this is growing between us, something that ain’t just about bangin’.

But the moment doesn't foul the heat between us; if anything, it stokes it. Adds layers to it. Makes it richer, more complex. This isn't just casual fuckin’, though God knows it's definitely that too. It's something more. Something I don't have a name for, yet.

Emma's blush deepens, but she doesn't move to wipe it away. If anything, she shifts her stance, legs spreading just a bit wider, like she’s daring me to look, too see it all.

“You’re such a filthy slut,” I tell her without stopping the rhythm of my strokes. I sit up and reach out with my free hand, my finger catching the drop of cum as it slides further down her thigh. The sticky warmth of it is familiar. Last night I had it on my tongue, my face, my chest.

Emma fuckin’ twitches when my finger touches her slick skin. Her eyes go all dark and hungry, and she sucks in a small, noisy breath. She doesn't shy away. Nah, she wants this. She slips her robe open, the silk falling to her side, revealing her flushed skin and her gorgeous, wet, cum oozing pussy. Then, the little tease presses herself right into my touch, her soft, breathy moan a goddamn clear message—explore every inch, you fucker.

I drag my finger slowly up her thigh, feeling the smooth skin, the slight tremble of her muscle beneath. The trail of Pete's cum glistens in the morning light, a wet path marking her skin. When I reach the source, where her thighs meet, I pause. Looking up at her face, I press against the moist lips.

Her breath catches, a tiny gasp that's hardly more than a hitch in her breathing. But it tells me everything I need to know—she's fuckin’ turned on by this.

My eyes lock with Emma's, never breaking contact as I slowly, deliberately bring that cum-coated finger to my lips. My tongue flicks out, tasting the salty, musky remnants of their sex. Pete's cum is thick on my tongue, a familiar flavor from last night. A primal, possessive thrill runs through me—like I'm claiming something, marking my territory in the most twisted way.

I take my time, making a show of it, sucking my finger clean with hollow cheeks and a satisfied hum. The salty, slightly bitter taste lingers on my tongue, a reminder of what we've done, what we're doing, what lines we're trashin’ with every passing moment.

"How does he taste?" Emma asks, her voice barely above a whisper, loaded with curiosity and heat.

"Good," I answer truthfully. "Strong. Salty." I maintain eye contact, letting her see that I'm not just saying it, that I'm loving this nasty, forbidden shit. "Want to share?"

Without waiting for an answer, without looking away, I reach back down, my fingers tracing the wet trail. Her slit is slick, glistening with her own juices and Pete's lingering spunk. I slide a finger inside, and it slips in easily, met with a soft, yielding heat. Emma, acting like a seasoned whore, tilts her ass like she's fuckin’, and a low moan slips past her lips.

"Fuck, you're wet," I murmur, feeling how her body welcomes the intrusion, how she clenches slightly around my finger. "So fuckin’ wet!"

"Yesss... for you," she agrees, her voice catching as I curl my finger inside her, searching for that spot that will make her gasp. "Been thinking about this all morning, Gabs."

I add a second finger, stretching her slightly, feeling the slick heat of her envelop me. My thumb finds her clit, circling it lightly, teasing rather than giving her the direct pressure she craves. Emma's hips buck in response, trying to increase the contact, seeking more friction.

"Patience, pet," I tease, slowing my movements even further. "We've got plenty of time."

Emma makes a frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a whimper. Her hand comes down to grab my wrist, trying to guide my movements, to make me touch her the way she wants. But I resist, maintaining my own pace, establishing control.

"Please, Gabs," she whispers, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. "Don't tease me."

The plea sends a fresh surge of heat through me. There's something incredibly powerful about having her like this—wanting, needing, begging. An ego boost that goes straight to my head.

"What do you want, Emma?" I ask, my voice low and rough. "Tell me exactly what you want."

Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine with a cool directness that takes my breath away. "I want you to make me cum," she says simply. Her words are direct, to the point. "With your fingers, your mouth, your cock..., I don't care. Just make me cum, Gabs."

The stink of sweat and raw need is pouring off her. It's in her look, in the pitch of her voice, and it just pours from her. Shit! The goddamn slut’s been getting fucked all night, and she still wants more, I think in my head.

The raw honesty in her voice, the unabashed desire—it's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever heard. My fingers push deeper inside her, curling to hit that spongy spot on her front wall that makes her gasp and arch her back.

"Like that?" I ask.

Her body makes it fuckin’ obvious. "YESSS," she hisses, her internal muscles clenching around my fingers. "Just like that. Don't stop."

I ain’t thinkin’ about stopping. No effin’ way am I stopping. I’m gonna play with this sweet thing for as long as I’ve got in me. My thumb presses harder on her clit, circling it harder now, matching the stroking of my fingers. Emma's breathing quickens, little gasps and moans escaping her with each exhale. Her hand grips my wrist tighter, not to guide me anymore but just to hold on, to anchor herself as pleasure builds.

Slapping the couch next to me, I tell her, "Get your fucking foot up here," demanding it, wantin’ it bad. "Get up here, spread your legs, and show me your wet pussy.”

Emma lets out these lusty, eager sighs as she gets moving to where I want her. Her foot lands on the couch beside me, givin’ me a perfect view of everything I've been wanting to see. Her slit is glistening, raw and inviting. I can see her juices, can see Pete’s cum still there, leakin’ out, ready to be played with, ready to be licked off. My cock twitches just looking at it, at her. She knows exactly how turned on I am, and she fucking loves it.

With a wicked smile, she opens the robe wide, so now nothin's hidden. "Like this?” she sighs, teasing, knowing the effect it's having on me. “This what you want?"

"Yeah, babe,” I groan, voice thick with desire. “That's it. Just like t-that."

I keep my fingers moving inside her, slow and deliberate. Her pussy is so fucking wet, so ready for me. Her pussy juices are slickin’ my hand, and I know she's close, know exactly how much she wants to cum for me. I’m enjoying the view, the smell, the feel of her, losing myself in her.

I'm in control of her. The fate of her pleasure is in my hands, and it gives me a rush like nothing else. I call the shots. It's a power trip, knowing she's so fuckin’ gone on this that she'll take it any way I give it. Her moans are music, her gasps a symphony, and I'm the goddamn conductor. Every arch of her back, every tight, little shudder comes right from me, from my fingers. I'm the one making her feel this, and it’s all gonna happen on my terms.

"God, babe, your pussy's so beautiful," I tell her, not just to talk dirty but because it's the fuckin’ truth. I let her see how much I mean it, show her the effect she's havin' on me as my cock throbs in my hand. I spit down on my hard cock, work it around so it’s wet and glistening, then look up in her eyes as I stroke it.

She's fuckin’ loving seeing me like this—naked, filthy, my cock hard for her. The way she looks at me, it's like she's drinking it all in, savoring every dirty, wicked detail. Her eyes follow the movement of my hand, watching as I stroke myself in front of her, not even trying to hide how much I want this, how much I want her. I know how much of a turn on it is for her, see it in the way her lips part, in the way her breath quickens.

And she fuckin’ loves the attention, enjoys showin’ me she does. She lets out a soft, trembling sigh, “Fuck, Gabs.” Her eyes are half closed, mouth open, enjoying the ride. Her hips are movin’, matching my hand, fuckin’ my fingers. I keep pushing inside her, feeling her wet heat. The juices and cum from last night are slipping over my hand, down my wrist, glistening in the morning light.

Her hunger matches mine, raw and intense, feeding off each other in this endless loop of desire. And fuck, that makes me want her even more.

“Yeah, like that, babe,” I tell her. “Nice n’ easy. God, babe, your pussy’s fuckin’ gorgeous, so fuckin’ wet.”

Emma shifts her foot on the couch, spreadin' wider so I can see everything, see exactly what her pussy is doin’. She lets out a shaky moan, the pitch rising as my thumb finds her clit again. Fuckin’ A, she is fuckin’ ready for it.

Again, for show, to let her know who I am, I hock up and spit on my cock, smear it along the drooling hard shaft with my other hand. Then I grip myself tighter, working the spit down the shaft so it makes obscene little slicking noises.

Emma winces at the sound, grunts, “Damn, you pig.”

Her pussy clenches around my fingers when she says it, making me know she likes it, likes seein' me this fucking animalistic, losing myself in her and in what we’re doing. Fuck, I can't get enough of her, of this.

“Like it?” I ask.

Her wetness is coating my hand now, a slick testament to her arousal. The sound of my fingers moving inside her is obscene, a wet, sucking noise that fills the quiet room. It's the soundtrack to her pleasure, to our shared transgression, and it only makes me harder, more desperate to be inside her.

"Oh God, yes! Oh Gabby! Oh FUUUCK!" Emma wails, her voice cracking. "Yeah, just like that, you bastard... oh FUUUCK! FUCK ME!"

As much as I’d love to feel my hard cock inside her, I’m not gonna fuck her. Not yet. First, I want to watch her come apart on my hand. Want to see her face twist with pleasure, hear those little sounds she makes when she's right on the edge. Want to know that I did that, that I gave her that release even after Pete's already had her this morning.

"You close?" I ask, feeling the way her muscles are starting to flutter around my fingers, the telltale sign of an approaching orgasm.

Emma nods, barely whimpers, “Uh ha,” unable to form words now, her brain turned to mush by the building ache in her snatch. Her eyes are half-closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her cheeks flushed with desire. She's fucking beautiful like this—raw, unguarded, completely in the moment.

I curl my fingers again, hitting that spot inside her that makes her whole body tense. My thumb circles her clit faster, applying just the right pressure, the rhythm that I learned drives her wild. Emma's breathing turns ragged, her moans louder, less controlled.

"That's it," I encourage her, watching her face intently, memorizing every flicker of expression. "Let go, Emm. Cum for me, babe."

Her eyes lock with mine one last time, a moment of connection so intense it almost feels like its own kind of intimacy. Then her head falls back, her mouth opens in a scream, “FUUUCK!” and her body convulses around my fingers. The orgasm ripples through her in visible waves, her stomach muscles contracting, her thighs trembling, her pussy pulsing around my fingers.

It's fucking gorgeous, watching her cum. Knowing I did that, even after Pete already satisfied her this morning. There's a primal satisfaction in it, a possessive pride that makes my cock throb harder in my hand.

When she can’t take no more, Emma bucks and goes rigid, falling onto me, her body twitchin’ as the orgasm takes over, rippin’ through her. I keep my fingers inside of her, working her through it, slowing to press my palm against her spasming cunt, squeezing, drawing out her pleasure like I’m fuckin’ milkin’ her. Her body shudders, and I take the hand from my cock, grabbin’ her ass and yanking her tighter, clutchin’ her against me, feeling her cunt pulse against my palm. Her legs are shakin’ on either side of me, body tremblin’ hard as she cums.

Her breath comes in jagged gasps; she throws her head back and lets out a fuckin’ wail. “Oh FUCK,” she cries. Her legs squeeze me, tryin’ to make me stop, but I’m relentless. I know the slut can give me more. She’s fuckin’ shakin’ uncontrollably, and I keep holdin’ her, keep working her cunt, keep putting her out of her mind. “FUCK!” she wails. “Oh God, FUCK, ahhh...” she shrieks. “p-p-please,” she says, her voice crackin’.

Thinkin’ back on it, I don’t know what got into me, but I wasn’t stoppin’. No fuckin’ way. Not yet!

Nah, that there was a lie. I know what got into me. I wanted to show her—show her what I could do, show her that I was better than that guy. Anyway, I ain’t done with her. Not yet!

Nah, not yet, babe, I think in my head. Emm keeps pleading with me, but I ain’t done with her yet. I want to see just how far I can push her, how deep I can drive her into that sweet spot between ecstasy and a kind of spiritual agony. Her pussy is a fucking mess at this point—slick and quivering, the lips puffy and raw from my relentless, unforgiving attention. She’s still twitching on my fingers, but I refuse to give her mercy. Not yet.

Emma shudders again, her body going limp, like she’s gone dead to the world. Her head falls back, her eyes closed, her mouth a silent 'O' as she rides out the final wave. Her limbs fall slack, no longer fighting me, just lying still and breathless, a boneless heap across my lap. The sound of my fingers working her is obscene in the otherwise quiet room, but she’s past caring, lost to everything, a beautiful wreck of a babe who's got nothing left to give.

I smirk to myself, knowing I pushed her right to the brink and then some. She's so spent that she can't even plead for me to stop anymore, can't even form the words to beg for mercy. Her breathing is shallow, her skin slick with sweat, her whole body shivering in the aftermath, and I feel like a fucking king. I keep my hand between her legs, feel her pussy pulse weakly around my fingers, feel the final ripples as they pass through her. She’s done.

But I’m still hard, still hungry, still dying to bury myself in her and show her what else I can do. I ain’t done yet, so I reach up and yank her back by the hair, pulling her off my lap and right into my chest. “C’mon, you little slut,” I growl into her ear, my breath hot and mean.

She lets out a long, ragged moan that’s half a sob, the sound vibrating through her whole body. “Oh God, Gabs, please!” she wails, but I know she doesn’t want me to stop—slut’s craving it all, every little bit of the filthy high I can bring to her body.

My mouth is on her neck before she can even catch her breath, teeth sinking in, marking her hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break the skin. I suck and bite at the join of her neck and shoulder, leaving a wet ring where my teeth clamp down. She’s shaking so bad I have to clamp my arm around her to keep her from collapsing. The helplessness in her gasps, the way her voice cracks and gives out, is like the chorus to the song I’ve been writing on her body. Each new bite, each new pulse of my fingers inside her, is a note in that song.

“FUCK!” she screams, her voice going hoarse. “UGHHH, FUCK!” There’s an angry desperation in it now—a furious, animal frustration that I’m not letting her off the hook, not giving her the satisfaction of a break. Every muscle in her body fights me—her thighs straining, her fist beating weakly at my shoulder—but inside, her pussy is still sucking at my fingers, greedy for more even as she begs for less.

I can feel her heartbeat jackhammering through her chest, her skin fever-hot and damp with sweat. Every nerve burns. Emm’s body’s alive with sensation, but also way past the point of comfort. She throws her head back and bares her throat to me, teeth clenched, eyes screwed shut, and I can’t help myself—I drag my tongue up the line of her neck, then sink my teeth into her earlobe, hard enough to make her shriek again.

She’s bucking on my lap, wild now, the pulse of her cunt around my fingers turning frantic, erratic, desperate. I love it. I love that I can do this to her, take her apart, make her lose every last bit of control. With each new spasm, her pussy clamps down harder, trying to force my fingers out, but I just push in deeper, curl my fingers until I’m cradling her g-spot, rubbing it in slow, crushing circles that drive her fucking insane.

“Oh, FUCK, Gabs, I can’t—I can’t—” She’s babbling now, voice gone high and thin, words tripping over themselves. “Please, fuck, I can’t take it—”

But I don’t stop. I want to see her break. I want to see just what it looks like when she can’t hold back anymore, when I drag her past that point into something raw and primal. I keep my hand steady on her pussy, keep working her clit with my thumb, keep biting and sucking her neck until her skin goes blotchy and red.

Her next orgasm hits like a fucking freight train. One second she’s stiff as a board, every muscle locked up, and then she lets out a scream so loud it could wake the fuckin’ dead. Her whole body seizes, she shoves her hips up, and she shakes and screeches. It’s fucking beautiful, man. I’ve never seen anything like it—never made anyone come this hard. I’m in awe and also completely out of my mind with how goddamn hot it is.

Emma collapses on me, her body wracked with aftershocks, arms limp, head lolling back. Her hair is a mess, matted to her sweaty face. Her robe’s fallen open, tits bobbing as she gasps for air, and her legs are splayed wide on either side of me, toes curled, feet scrabbling against the couch cushions. She’s sobbing, laughing, cursing, all at the same time—a fucking masterpiece of human excess.

I keep my fingers inside her, more gentle now, just stroking as she comes down. She’s whimpering softly, eyes glazed, completely wrecked. I rub circles on her clit with the pad of my thumb, slow and soft, and she twitches every time, these delicate little aftershocks that ripple through her thighs and belly.

Her throat is raw, her voice barely above a whisper when she finally manages, “Fuck, Gabs, fuck, you’re insane—”

I let go of her hair, cradle the back of her skull in my palm, and kiss her open-mouthed, deep and wet, tasting her sweat, her spit, her need. She kisses back—weak, but hungry, like she wants to crawl inside me and never leave. When I pull away, she’s panting, eyes shining with tears and burning with something like gratitude.

I bury my face against her neck, inhaling her scent—salt, musk, something almost sweet beneath it all. Then I shift her on my lap, one arm wrapped under her thighs, the other still teasing her swollen, battered cunt.

She moans, high and shivery, and then starts giggling uncontrollably, a wild, hysterical sound. “Fucking Christ, w-hat did you do to me?” she says, still laughing, still crying a little. “I think you broke my pussy.”

I grin, loving the way she melts against me, a sweaty heap. “Told you I was gonna ruin you,” I say, nipping at her collarbone.

She keeps gasping, her body shivering, totally out of it, and I hold her there for a bit, letting her ride the afterglow. My cock is still hard as stone, drooling pre-cum all over my belly, aching for release, but it’s worth it—seeing her like this, wrecked and happy, is almost as good as getting off.

After a bit, her breathing slows, and she goes slack in my arms, boneless and spent. I can tell she’s had enough. Can’t take no more. I take my hand from her cunt, slide it up her body, pinch her swollen nipple.

Emma collapses against me, her body a boneless, heavin’ wreck. Her head rests on my shoulder, her breath hot against my neck. I can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing.

My fingers are still inside her, feeling the occasional aftershock ripple through her sensitive tissues, feeling warm, gooey spunk, a mix of her and him, oozin’ from her slit and spilling onto my hand. I'm in no hurry to withdraw, to break this physical connection between us. My other hand has stilled on my cock, the urgency of my own need temporarily overshadowed by the pleasure of giving her release.

"Jesus Christ, Gabs," Emma murmurs against my skin, a lazy smile in her voice. "That was—"

"Just the beginning," I finish for her, turning my head to press a kiss to her temple. Because it is. We're just getting started.