I’m not prepared for what I walk in on. When I reach the window and look inside a room that’s dressed in all kinds of dark purples, I see the woman bend over a bench, her hands on the wall in front of her, her hair falls in front of her face. And the man, who’s removed his shirt and is now topless, is at one of the walls, grabbing a crop whip. He smacks it in his hand a few times, creating a smile on his face. He walks over to the woman, picks up her dress and lays the hem of it on the small of her back, showing her bare ass for all of us to see.
Do they know we’re here? Are they expecting people to see this?
Without getting any answers, the man grabs her hair in his hand, wraps it around his wrist and pulls her head back. Dean presses his warm body against my back as I subconsciously hold my breath in anticipation of what is going to happen.
“Count for me, baby,” the man commands, and she hums.
When the whip comes down on her bare ass, she moans a loud ‘one,’ and my eyes widen in shock with the force he smacks her with. To my surprise, there’s still a smile on her face. Guess they really found a way for them both to work through their issues.
He hits her again, hitting the inside of her thigh this time while she manages to count to two. Even from here I can see the glistening of her arousal.
This way of working through relationship problems would be preferable above having arguments if you ask me. I just hope that by the time I ever have trouble with one of my guys we can find our own way of working things through.
Right now, I’m just turned the fuck on as he hits her again, this time against her bare pussy and she moans so loud the counting is barely reaching my ears. The hard length of Dean pressing against my back is letting me know that what he’s seeing is having an influence on him as well.
My arm wraps around his head, and I tangle my fingers in his knot, grabbing tight and holding on. Thinking about the first time I slept with him and not being able to tell him what I wanted, I can’t help but notice how much I’ve changed. I’ve still got boundaries and things I’m self aware about, but speaking up about what it is I want is no longer one of them.
While my eyes never leave the couple working each other into a frenzy, I turn my head to Dean’s ear, and whisper, “Touch me.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice, letting his hand disappear beneath my shorts. They’re too tight to give him the space he needs to do what he wants to do, so he unbuttons them quicker than I can do it for him.
His fingers slide between my folds, gliding through them without any resistance because I’m soaked. He plunges two fingers inside me while the palm of his hand grinds over my clit. I don’t even bother to hold the moan that leaves my mouth back.
“Right there,” I demand of him. But there’s no real demanding. There’s a consensual giving and taking.
Reaching behind me, I slide my hand between our bodies, grabbing his dick through his jeans. He ruts against my back, pressing himself in my hand while he kisses me on the soft spot beneath my ear. Closing my eyes, I want to give into all the things I’m feeling.
“Open your eyes, baby,” he growls. “Keep watching. Figure out what it does to you to watch.”
“I already know I like to watch,” I whisper when I open my eyes up again. “I can’t keep my eyes off of you and Gil when you touch each other.”
He grunts as if he approves of that thought. “Well, let’s find out if you like watching other people as well.”
Pushing my ass back, I arch my back, trying to make him hit the exact spot I want him to hit in my pants. When he just can’t reach it the way I’d like him to, I grow frustrated and throw all caution to the wind.
“Take me,” I groan.
“Here?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
He hesitates.
I turn around, unbutton his pants and push his boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. Pushing my own shorts down and sliding my underwear to the side, I turn around again, and push my hands up against the window where I start peeving the couple inside the room again while I stick my ass back out.
Before I can ask for it again, Dean guides the tip of his cock to my opening and enters me. But instead of the frantic and wild fuck I expect, he slides in ever so slowly, taking his time while he wraps my hair around his wrist and grabs my hip with his other.
The couple inside have undressed and have switched to a strict leather tomcat nine tail whip, which the man uses to work the already red ass of the woman. It looks fucking painful. She still seems to have the time of her life, so who am I to judge?
“This what you want?” Dean asks.
“No, harder.”
He gives into my wishes immediately and starts pounding into me, pushing my current state into instant bliss.
While I keep watching through the window, I can feel myself starting to build. This isn’t something that’s going to last. This is just what it is; a quick, hard fuck because we both got aroused. The hallway is quiet except for the slapping of our bodies and my moaning and his grunting.
Which quickly leads to my vision blacking out because I am coming so hard. Dean’s fingers are pressed so hard in my hips, it hurts when he squeezes even tighter, and his moaning lets me know he’s coming too.