The sound cut through the haze like a knife. My eyes flew open, my whole body tensing, the orgasm teetering right on the edge but suddenly tangled with panic.

“Hey, Dad,” Elliot’s voice called out from the hall. “I saw your car in the drive.”

Andrew didn’t stop moving although he did slow. The shock made me clutch at him harder, my mouth clamping shut to muffle the sounds that still wanted to escape. My thighs locked around him instinctively, holding him in place even as my heart pounded for an entirely new reason.

The footsteps were faint but getting closer. I was caught between the desperate urge to finish and the dread of being found like this, my body quivering with both. Andrew’s mouth was at my ear, his breath hot, his thrusts unrelenting. Every movement jolted through me, each one threatening to pull another moan out of me that I couldn’t afford to make.

I bit down hard on his shoulder the moment Elliot’s voice carried through the hallway. The taste of his skin and the faint salt of sweat filled my mouth as I clamped down, desperate to stop the sounds clawing their way up my throat.

“I’m just in here,” Andrew called, his voice steady. “Katie wanted me to fix something with her ensuite while I was here.”

I could hear Elliot moving about, closer now. The problem was my body didn’t care about that. The heat curling tighter and tighter inside me, it was still there, building just as fiercely as before. I could feel the tremors starting again in my legs, my breath shuddering out against his skin as I fought to keep it quiet.

Elliot’s footsteps stopped outside the door.

“Oh, I had to move the bed,” Andrew added quickly. “It’s jammed against the door. I’m a bit tied up, I can’t move it now or there’ll be a flood.”

I was so close to orgasm we were close to there really being a flood. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding my breath through the next deep thrust, my body screaming for release even as I begged myself not to lose control. The mix of panic and pleasure made it almost unbearable.

Then Elliot said, “Alright, I’ll see you when you’re done,” and the sound of his bedroom door closing finally came.

I let out a shuddering breath against Andrew’s shoulder, my teeth easing but still resting against his skin.

Elliot’s door closed and the house went quiet again, but I still didn’t dare make a sound as he started moving harder.

The door rattled with each thrust, the wood shivering behind my back, the sound far too loud in the stillness. I clung tighter, my legs tense around his hips, trying to steady myself without letting the noises spill out. My breaths came in sharp bursts through my nose, my jaw aching from how hard I was biting him.

The sound of the doorframe giving a protesting creak made him pause. Without warning, he lifted me away from the door, his hands firm under my thighs, and carried me across the room.

The cool sheets hit my back a moment later as he laid me down on the bed, following instantly. His hand pinned mine above my head, the other steadying my hip as he slid back inside me. I bit down on my lip now, the need to cry out almost overwhelming, my body arching up to meet him with every sharp, deliberate movement.

The mattress dipped under his weight, the movement pushing me deeper into the sheets. His grip on my thigh was firm, keeping me wide open for him, and the first thrust sent a shiver tearing through me. It wasn’t as frantic as against the door, slower, each push deliberate enough to make me feel every inch.

The shift in pace gave me a moment to catch my breath, though the air still came in short, shaky draws. My fingers curled tight into the fabric above me, the heat already pooling again low in my belly. 

I wanted to stay quiet, I really did, but the sounds began slipping out before I could stop them. Low at first, then rising in little bursts that matched the rhythm of his hips. I clamped my lips shut, trying to trap them in, but another deep thrust pulled a sharp moan from my throat before I could bite it back.

Andrew’s eyes locked on mine, the faintest curve tugging at his mouth, and he moved again, slower this time, deeper, until my head tipped back against the bed and myopen my mouth to moan.

He leg go of my leg and reached to the side, grabbing a pillow, and dragged it up over my face. The scent of fabric softener mixed with the faint musk of earlier nights filled my nose as he pressed it down, using it to swallow the sounds that kept clawing free.

Beneath the muffling weight, my cries came faster, more urgent, my hips starting to move up to meet him without thought. The tension was building again, steady and hot, wrapping tight around my core with every long, sliding push. 

He shifted his angle slightly and it sent a shock of pleasure through me that made my whole body tense under him. My knees tried to pull higher, to give him more space, and he took it without hesitation, driving in until my back arched off the bed. The pillow caught my muffled scream, the sound vibrating against the fabric in front of my lips.

Every movement felt like it was winding me tighter, pulling me closer without quite letting me go. My thighs ached from holding him so close, my calves pressing into the hard muscle of his back as if I could drag him deeper still.

I could feel how close I was, not teetering, not falling yet, but the edge was there in the distance, waiting. The pillow dampened my cries but did nothing to quiet the hammering in my chest or the tremor in my legs.

The rhythm stayed steady, each thrust driving me higher, the pressure growing until my whole body was taut beneath him. My fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white, the pillow still pressed hard over my mouth to catch the sounds I could no longer swallow.

Andrew’s hips rolled with precision now, finding the spot inside me that made my toes curl and my thighs clench around him every time he hit it. My breathing turned ragged, chest rising and falling against his.

I could feel the tremor start in my stomach, that deep, pulsing throb that meant the edge was rushing toward me whether I was ready or not. He pushed harder, his other hand gripping my wrists tight enough that I knew I’d be marked later.

My body moved on instinct now, hips rising to meet his every drive, grinding into him in short, frantic motions between thrusts.

The coil inside me snapped.

It started low and hot, exploding outward in waves that left me screaming into the pillow. My thighs clamped hard around him, my back arching so high it broke the line of his rhythm. The noises I made were no longer under my control, raw, desperate, smothered into the fabric.

He didn’t stop. Each deep, hard thrust dragged the orgasm out longer, pulling more sounds from my throat until I thought I’d tear them free completely. My muscles gripped him without release, pulsing around him as if my body refused to let him go.

The pleasure came in surges, each one sharper than the last, until my vision blurred and my legs fell limp beside him, trembling uncontrollably, still twitching in the aftershocks, my chest heaving under his weight.

When the last shudder faded, he let the pillow drop from my face, my cheeks flushed and damp, my mouth open as I tried to catch my breath. I blinked up at him, dazed, the air suddenly cooler against my damp skin. 

His pace changed, no longer measured, just hard, fast, driving into me with a force that jolted through my whole body. The wet slap of him inside me filled the room. I tried to keep my moans quiet, small sounds slipping past my lips, it was easier now that I had just orgasmed.

Just as I could see he was about to climax, he pulled out in one smooth motion, leaving me aching and empty, and in the same movement climbed up my body.

Now he was straddling my chest, his thighs warm against my ribs, the weight of him pinning me to the bed. His cock hung heavy and hard over my face, still slick from me, the heat of it radiating down as it hovered inches from my lips. The condom hung from it, slightly loose as it had shifted during our passions.

His hand went to his base again, fingers hooking under the edge of the condom. In one quick pull, he slid it off and tossed it aside.

“A slut like you is going to love this,” he said, his voice low but certain.

He was right. The words sent a pulse straight through me, my whole body tightening in response. I did love this. If I’d had the breath I’d have been beggin for it if he hadn’t decided to do it anyway.

I reached up immediately, wrapping one hand around him. My fingers slid easily over the slick skin, pumping him fast and tight. He groaned above me, his hips rocking forward slightly into my strokes.

I kept my eyes on his face, watching the tension build there, his jaw clenched, lips parting as his breathing grew rough. My other hand came up to cup his balls, adding pressure, feeling the way he throbbed under my touch.

He was so close I could feel the urgency in every movement, the way his cock twitched against my palm, the muscles in his thighs tensing under my hands. I tightened my grip, working him harder, faster, determined to make this the best he had ever had.

His breath turned to short, broken gasps, his eyes locked on mine, and I knew it was only seconds now. “Cum for me. Cum on me. God I want it so bad. I want you to fucking coat me like your little slut.” I whispered under my breath, putting effort in to make sure he could feel my breath against his tip as I whispered.

I kept my grip firm and fast, twisting slightly on every downstroke, my thumb circling over the slick head each time I reached the top. His thighs trembled against my ribs, the muscles going rigid as his whole body leaned into it.

His breathing was sharp and ragged now, little choked sounds escaping as his hips jerked forward. I could feel every twitch under my palm, the urgency building until he was right on the edge.

“Fuck… Katie…” he growled, and that was all the warning I got.

The first hot pulse shot out over my cheek, thick and heavy, streaking across my skin. I worked him harder, dragging it out, watching the way his head tipped back and his chest heaved. The next spurt hit my lips and chin, another on my neck, each one hot and messy.

I kept my mouth open, catching one across my tongue, the salty taste flooding my mouth before dripping down onto my chin. My other hand moved up between my breasts, smearing the mess over my skin, feeling the heat of it against me.

He groaned low in his throat, his hips jerking again and again until the last thick drips spilled over my fingers. I slowed my strokes gradually, milking every last drop from him, smearing it along his length before licking it from my hand with a grin.

When I looked up at him, his eyes were locked on me, still dark and wide, his cock twitching faintly in my grasp. My chest rose and fell fast, my skin slick with sweat and streaked with his release.

“See?” he said, still breathless, that little smirk tugging at his lips. “Knew you’d love it.”

And God help me, I did. Every single filthy second of it.

I sat up slightly, feeling it slide down my cheek. I scooped the warm streaks from my face with my fingers, slow and deliberate, never looking away from him.

Andrew’s eyes stayed locked on mine, watching every movement, his breathing still uneven. I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked them clean, tasting him, letting my tongue curl over every trace.

I swallowed, my chest still heaving, my skin tingling everywhere his release had touched.

Then we started to come to our senses. We moved fast. My body was still humming from everything we’d just done, but we both knew we couldn’t hang around.

He stepped back, letting me roll off the bed. My legs felt a little shaky as I headed for the ensuite. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, flushed cheeks, hair a mess, streaks of him still drying on my skin. I turned the tap on quickly, splashing warm water over my face, wiping away any trace of what had just happened. The taste still lingered in my mouth, and the thought made me smile despite myself.

From the bedroom, I could hear Andrew tugging on his trousers, still damp from earlier. I came back through and I rummaged in my drawers for something dry. A pair of old joggers and a hoodie from an ex came to mind, I’d kept them because they were comfortable, but they were about Andrew’s size. I held them out when I came back into the room.

“Here,” I said, “these should fit. And they’re dry.”

He raised a brow but took them without question. “Thanks” he said as he pulled the hoodie over his head. As he pulled it down I saw his back was covered in red scratch marks from when I clawed him when we were against the door. 

I was pulling on clean leggings and a loose top. I still felt warm all over, but at least now I looked like someone who’d just had a normal day.

Once we were both decent, I opened the door slowly, checking the hallway. Clear. We slipped out, Andrew carrying his wet clothes in a bundle under one arm. As we walked into the living room, Elliot looked up from his phone.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything sorted?”

“Yeah,” Andrew said smoothly, not missing a beat. “All fixed.”

I smiled at Elliot. “Thanks for lending me your dad for a bit. Excellent plumbing work.”

Andrew glanced sideways at me, and I caught the flicker of a smirk. “Just a matter of screwing,” he said casually.

My lips pressed together to keep from laughing, but I failed. “Well,” I said, “I’ll be sure to call you if I need more… work done.”

I left Andrew and Elliot to catch up as I went for a walk outside. I was already planning a plumbing emergency for next time Elliot was out.