Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [13]
You wanted to see me so badly—well, here I am, baby.
Look at me. Look at my pussy.
At that moment, it was the greatest part of her, filled with need and want and a raw hunger that knew no shame.
Oh God, she wanted him back there, behind her, wanted to feel his hands on her ass, his hard shaft pushing its way inside. Without forethought, she looked over her shoulder, into the camera, and said, “If you were here right now, I’d beg you to take me like this. To fuck me hard and deep.”
A thousand miles away, he watched her, mesmerized—and spoke back to the screen even though he knew she couldn’t hear. “Aw, baby—you’re so fucking hot.” His cock jutted from his open pants and his fist wrapped warm around it.
He’d spent a few sad, lonely minutes thinking she really wasn’t going to show, that he’d really had all of her he was going to get—and then, when he’d been just about to give up and walk away, she’d appeared in that pretty and unexpected bra-and-panties set, her hair and face done up to make her into the sexual being he knew she was. A sizzling heat had burned from his chest to his dick at the sight of her. All that waiting hadn’t been for nothing. And now Laura was showing him her pretty little cunt, telling him she wanted him to fuck her, and his whole existence in that moment became about good, hot, nasty sex.
He watched in pure amazement as she turned to sit on the couch, parting her thighs wide, draping one leg over the sofa’s stuffed arm to put her pussy even more widely on display. He feasted on it with his eyes—so pink and open—wishing he could do so with his mouth. He heard the light sound of her breath, coming labored as she stroked one long, tapered finger through her wetness.
“Damn, honey,” he murmured, pulling at his cock.
His own raspy breath joined hers, seeming to fill the darkened room.
“More,” he urged her. “Touch it for me.”
It was almost as if she’d heard, and he let a wicked smile take him as her middle finger began to twirl hard, rhythmic circles over her clit, now protruding so prettily from her slick folds.
“Oh yeah—rub that pretty pussy for me.”
She did, thrusting lightly now as the first two fingers of her right hand extended down into her parted flesh. Her left hand rose to cup one breast, squeezing, raking her thumb across the taut mauve nipple pointing out over the uneven edging of her bra.
“So nice, baby,” he breathed toward the screen, wishing she could hear, wishing all this fucking distance didn’t lay between them. At first, that part had been exciting—but already, this fast, he wanted to do away with it and be with her, two bodies thrusting together, the way it was naturally supposed to be.
But on the other hand, who was he to complain? Laura Watkins had surrendered herself to him in a way she’d never planned and admittedly never thought she could, and his cock swelled further with dark, masculine pride at knowing this show was just for him, for his pleasure, and hers. If a few states separated them, hell, this was surely the next best thing to being there, and a damn hot treat to have grown from his innocent late-night peek into the house last night.
He gripped his hardened length tighter, wanting to give it to her so bad he could almost taste it. He kept his eyes glued to her gorgeous cunt, her bountiful breasts, the lost look of passion on her pretty face. She was getting close, he could tell, rubbing herself more intensely, gritting her teeth lightly, squeezing first one breast then the other with more ferocity than he’d yet seen from her. “That’s right, honey,” he said lowly, “keep going. Get yourself off for me. Get yourself off.”
Her breath came heavier still, and so did his own. He tugged at his cock, matching her rhythm and knowing he couldn’t hold back much longer. “Come, baby,” he urged. “Come for me now.”
The circles she rubbed over the top part of her pussy grew faster