Kate climbed onto the bed, straddling my chest, her bare, glistening pussy hovering just above my face. The scent of her was intoxicating —musky, sweet, the unmistakable tang of a woman who was seconds away from losing control.
She glanced back at the door, her mind racing.
"From this angle," she murmured, her voice thick with calculation, "if I sit on his cock, let it press against me… Barry will only see my back. He'll see Jack's balls, the way my hips are moving… He'll think—" She swallowed hard, her fingers tracing her slick folds. "He'll think his cock is buried inside me."
With a shuddering breath, she stood up, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of my hips. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down her thighs, revealing her perfect, clean-shaven pussy—glistening, swollen, her juices dripping down her inner thighs in thick, sticky strands.
"FUCK," she whimpered, her voice raw. "I'm leaking ."
