The gray comforter is pushed down, but they’re both covered from the waist down by the white sheet. Anderson has one arm next to her head on the pillow, the other gripping the headboard. The muscles in his back are rippling with every thrust, the corded strength in his inked arms pulled taut. I can’t see his face from this angle, but I can hear him.
I’m enamored. Couldn’t move even if I wanted to. The way he’s fucking her is slow. Soft. Sensual. He’s worshiping her body with his cock, and I can’t bring myself to look away.
I want him to worship my body like that.
Fuck, this is so wrong.
He sits up, bringing one of her legs over his shoulder as he palms her tit. “You like that, baby girl?” He’s quiet, but the sound still travels through me. Blood continues to rush to my groin, my body temperature rising several degrees from his words. His voice is raspy and low, dripping with sex.
Calina nods her head, brows pinched together as her mouth falls open on a quiet moan. His hips move so fluidly in and out of her. The sheet falls even lower, his round ass on display. He has dimples on his lower back, and I’m hypnotized as I watch his hips continue rocking into her.
My cock twitches in my boxers and I reach down, digging the heel of my palm into my crotch.Why can’t I look away?
He picks up the pace, fucking her a little rougher. His throaty groan hits my ears, and my cock leaks. That sound shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. Turning my attention to Calina, her sounds are grating on my nerves. Anderson brings his hand between their bodies; I’m assuming to rub her clit, but I can’t tell from here. Her pants and moans get a little louder, and a whole lot whinier. She must be getting close.
He throws his head back, his eyes closed, and his movements are getting jerky. He must be getting close too. Looking back down to her, he says in a husky voice, “You gonna come for me, baby girl?”
She wraps her tiny hands around his arm, digging her nails into his skin as she moans louder. “Yes… Yes,detka. I’m gonna come… Don’t stop.” Her sex voice is fucking annoying. And what the fuck did she call him?
Suddenly turned the fuck off by the thought of him making her come, I stomp back to the room next door, doing everything in my power not to slam the door like I want to. This is stupid. Why would that piss me off? Why would I fucking watch anyway?
Climbing back into bed, I bring the covers up to my chin, my dick officially deflated. I hate her. She doesn’t deserve him.
Fuck her.
***
“Aye, bro. Want some more?” Anderson pulls me from my thoughts, a plate of fresh, hot French toast in his hands.
“Oh, uh. Nah, I think I’m good.”
“You sure? You only had, like, one. There’s plenty.”
“Yeah, dude. I’m full. Thank you, though.” My mind has been all over the fucking place this morning. Okay, not really all over the place—it’s been in one place—Anderson’s bedroom. I’ve barely been able to look him in the eye since I woke up. After I went back to my room, I surprisingly fell asleep pretty quickly. My dreams were filled with Anderson and Calina, though.
Which quickly morphed into just Anderson.
And then morphed into Anderson… and me. More specifically, him savagely pounding into me.
Not only did I watch my best friend fuck his girlfriend like a goddamn pervert, but I dreamt about it too. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never once had a dirty dream about him. Even when I realized I had a crush on him when we were kids. I woke up hard as a rock, this close to having a full-fledged wet dream. It took a solid ten minutes lying in bed this morning to get my dick to calm down, because no way in fucking hell was I going to jack off to thoughts of Anderson.
Nope.
That would be weirder than the entire situation. And completely inappropriate. Not that he would ever know, but still. Our bodies and minds are weird as fuck.
“Wanna have a Harry Potter movie marathon today?” he asks, bringing me back to the here and now, a mischievous grin on his face as he wiggles his brows at me. Those movies have been our thing for as long as I can remember. None of our friends really give a shit about them, but Anderson and I have always been obsessed.
“Fuck yeah, bro. Just you and me? No Calina?”
“No way, bro. Like she’d watch those.” Yeah, because she’s a fuckingloserand you deserve better.
“Let’s fucking do it!”
“Bet. You go turn the movies on, I’ll grab some snacks.”
“The living room or your room?” He has an equally big TV in his room and killer surround sound.
Looking over his shoulder at me, a giant smile splits his face. “My room, obviously.”