My c**k pressed so hard against my pants I thought the fabric might rip. It was long. Heavy. Angry. Precum leaking from the tip like spit, soaking into my waistband in hot, sticky patches.
She made a soft sound.
A sigh.
Her body shifted.
The shirt lifted higher.
And that was when I saw it.
A single drop of slick running down her inner thigh.
Slow.
Shiny.
It glided down the smooth skin like a whisper, catching the light before slipping over her knee and falling to the floor.
And she didn’t even know.
Didn’t f*****g know I was behind her.
Watching.
Breathing like a goddamn monster.
Fighting every part of me that screamed to move.
To grab her.
To shove her face-first into the counter, yank that shirt over her head, and ram my c**k into her virgin cunt until she bled.
Her arms
