Duane was licking me like he had all the time in the world, and he was driving me crazy.

I bucked my hips impatiently, but that didn’t speed him up any. To the contrary, he slipped his hands around my raised legs to grip my hips, and then his tongue began to move even more slowly.

“I’m never going to come that way,” I hissed. “I’ll just go insane.”

“Hmm?” he hummed in reply but otherwise ignored me. The noise rumbled through my pelvis. His tongue revolved around my clit in intoxicating swirls. I clutched the bedsheets and bumped my hips upward again.

“I could slow down even more if you’d like,” he mumbled lazily, before blowing a hot breath on my clitoris.

I groaned and tossed my head, thinking for a split second I saw someone in the doorway. But his roommate, Mickey, was supposed to be away for the night. No one could possibly be there but us. Right?

Duane regained my attention by pushing a finger into my cunt and finally speeding up his teasing tongue. I grabbed his head and began chanting, “Like that. Like that… ”

I came with a growl, and he gave me a look that seemed to say: “See, I got you there.” My pussy flickered and clutched at his thrusting finger. I wanted his cock in me.

“Flip me over, fuck me! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” I demanded as I giggled. We usually had to watch our volume because of the roommate situation. But that night I was being as loud as I wanted because we thought we were alone. We’d even left the door open!

“Has anyone ever told you you’re pushy?” Duane asked with a sly smile as he obliged and flipped me onto my tummy before pulling me up onto my hands and knees.

He held my hips and slid his cock into me slowly, making sure I felt every inch of him stretching my pussy and filling me up.

I opened my eyes, and that’s when I saw I hadn’t been wrong before. Mickey was standing in the shadows in the hallway. I hadn’t heard him approach because we’d left the TV running in the living room, and the canned laughter from the sitcom had covered the noise of his approach.

I was pretty sure he didn’t think I could see him. I knew that much because he had his hard dick in his hand and was jerking it wildly as Duane finished pushing himself into me. What a sight!

I played like I was unaware. Excitement curled through me knowing we had a watcher. I couldn’t tell Duane. Not yet.

Duane held my hips tight and fucked me hard, rocking me with every thrust. My hair fell in my face, but even through the blonde strands I could see Mickey staring and masturbating. Our own personal pervert. Um, I mean, audience.

I came when Duane reached under me and dragged his fingertip over my swollen clit. I was so wet, it made him crazy. When he came inside me, I climaxed again. Mostly because I heard Mickey groan softly out there in the hall as he shot off into his cupped palm. It was so wicked and wrong — and thrilling.

Mickey immediately hurried away as I flopped onto my back.

“Mickey’s home,” I announced.

“What?!”

I nodded to the door, and Duane got up and pushed it shut, locking it in a rush.

“He was watching us.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry. I’m gonna kick his a — ”

I held my hand up and motioned him closer. He sank down next to me, and I could smell us on his skin.

“I liked it. I mean… ” I took a deep breath. “I really liked it. I want to do it again. On purpose.”

He grinned at me. “Have I ever told you I love your kinky ass?”

“Try to set it up, and see what happens.”

He saluted me. “Yes, ma’am!”

A few nights later, Duane came in with a bottle of wine and a big smile. I’d been camped out on their sofa going over some spreadsheets while I waited for my man to come home.

“Here’s the deal. He’s going out tonight for a while. I told him I wanted to know when because I planned on making you scream my name, many, many times, and he got this look.” Duane wiggled the bottle of wine along with his eyebrows.

“Like he might sneak back hoping to  catch an encore?”

“Exactly.” Duane looked at his watch before he uncorked the wine. “He said he had an eight o’clock date. I’m guessing he’d be back here by about 10.”

I glanced at the clock. It was already 9:30. I smiled even as I felt my pussy go liquid with excitement and anticipation.

“Enough time for a little wine and a lot foreplay.”

“Great minds think alike,” Duane said, handing me a glass.

We’d just gone into Duane’s room, having left the door conveniently open, and had started making out when we heard a furtive noise. It was the front door being opened with great care by Mickey, doubtlessly in hope that no one would hear him entering.

I shivered as my nipples turned to small pebbles from the adrenaline rush.

Duane’s eyes looked dark, his pupils dilated. He rubbed his chest against my hardened nipples and kissed my neck. He pushed his hand between my thighs and slid two thick fingers inside my pussy. I groaned and raised my hips to give him better access. He jammed his fingers inside me, and my pleasure grew. His thumb found my clit, and he stroked me repeatedly, pushing me closer and closer to orgasm.

I heard a hitch of breath that wasn’t mine or Duane’s. I knew we had hooked our voyeur, and my arousal soared. I put my hands on Duane’s head and pushed until he took the hint and kissed a path from my mouth to my nipples. He paused there to bite and nip at me until I bucked wildly — conscious I was putting on a show. I pushed again, and he slid his tongue lower, over my navel and lower still, until his mouth had latched onto my pussy. He covered my mound, and then nudged my clitoris with his tongue ever so subtly.

“Jesus Christ, Duane!” I snarled, bucking forcefully against him.

But he wasn’t done teasing me. He bit my tender flesh gently and repeatedly, delivering teasing nips until my whole body seemed to throb. Then he pushed his hands beneath my ass and proceeded to eat me like I was the most delicious meal.

Duane knew my body well enough to keep me on the very verge of coming. I could hear the faint whispering sounds of Mickey in the shadows — no doubt jerking off. I pictured it in my mind, squeezed my internal muscles, and despite Duane gentling his tongue to keep me hovering on the brink, I came.

I grabbed fistfuls of his hair and yanked as a small payback for torturing me. His fingers kept plunging into me as the final spasms hit.

I pushed him away and got up on my hands and knees, angling myself on the bed to give our watcher the best possibly view. My secret goal was that he climax hard enough for me to hear him — despite his attempts to stifle himself.

I don’t think Duane was thinking about Mickey at all. He was thinking about burying himself in me, balls-deep. My cunt was drenched, and I was turned on beyond belief. I pushed my ass back toward him, egging him on and trying to get him to hurry up and put his dick in me.

“Fuck me,” I demanded.

He chuckled, pushing his fingers back inside me. “So demanding… ”

I clenched my cunt around his fingers, and he groaned.

“Now imagine how that would feel around your dick, big boy,” I said coaxing him onward.

He relented, pulling away his fingers and moving closer to me to tease my gushing hole with his cockhead. He prodded me, entered a little and pulled back.

“I sucked and let him fill my throat and trusted him not to gag me too much.”

“Do it,” I snarled loudly. My heart beat a crazy rhythm, and I risked a glance at the doorway. I did it without moving my head. I could just make out the vigorous movement of a hand jerking a cock. “Stick it in me,” I ordered Duane, knowing damn well the phrase would push him past his breaking point.

He made a deep sound and grabbed my hips hard. He wasn’t being gentle anymore. He thrust into me fast and rough, almost pushing my face into the mattress. I braced myself with my arms and slammed my body back to take his. The sound of our bodies colliding was so loud I could barely hear Mickey, but when I strained, I could capture the secretive, whispery sound of him beating his meat.

I sighed, loving the sensation of being watched. Of feeling his eyes on us. Of experiencing the humming energy of a third person nearby as we fucked.

Duane dug his fingertips into my skin as he grew even more excited, and I gasped loudly. My pussy was flowing like a river. I was so wet I could hear his every entry, each squishy thrust. 

Every time he jammed into me, he hit me just right. I loved it. But instead of focusing on the feeling, I closed my eyes and listened for Mickey.

The moment became too much for me, and I lost it. I came so hard and loud, I started laughing as my climax waned.

But Duane wasn’t laughing. He pulled out of me abruptly, pinching my nipples.

“On the floor — on your knees,” he ordered.

I nodded, nearly forgetting Mickey out in the hall. But I remembered him when Duane put his hands on my shoulders and pushed downward.

I went easily and eagerly, kneeling there and putting my arms behind my back to keep my hands out of the way. I opened my mouth and let him trace my lips with his slick cockhead. He pushed himself slowly into my mouth, holding my hair in his fist and advancing slowly until my lips reached the base of his cock. He filled my throat, and I was forced to suck air in through my nose.

I heard a faint groan from the hallway, where Mickey was losing his battle to stay silent.

I sucked and let Duane control me. I let him fill my throat and trusted him not to gag me too much. He drove into my mouth faster, his face a mask of concentration as he tried to hold off his orgasm. When he pulled out just to plunge back in, I whimpered softly and he groaned, plunging deeply. He came, holding my head and spilling come over my tongue. As he pulled free, he glazed my lips, too.

I licked my lips clean, looking up at him. From the hall, we heard a fast intake of air and then the sound of feet padding on the floor as Mickey retreated.

Duane winked at me. “How do you think our encore was?” he whispered.

“I, for one, enjoyed it,” I said, laughing softly.

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