Chapter 3: Secrets
My knees were liquid, my breath still sawing in and out of me in ragged pulls.Claire’s fingers, wet and impossibly intimate, slowly withdrew from inside me. A shock of cool air followed the emptiness.She pressed a warm, damp towel against my back.
“Good boy,” she murmured, the words vibrating against my spine. She kissed my shoulder blade, a soft benediction. “Now, let’s go see.”
She took my hand, her grip firm and reassuring, and led me from the steamy sanctuary of the bathroom. The living room air was cooler, charged with a different energy—sharp, animal, unforgiving.
Victor was a monument of controlled force. He stood behind Jenna, who was bent forward over the back of the deep leather sofa, her hands white-knuckling the upholstery. His body, all coiled muscle and salt-and-pepper hair, pistoned into her with a ruthless, rhythmic efficiency. Each thrust drove a sharp gasp or a choked sob from her throat. The sound of skin slapping against skin was a wet, hard percussion in the quiet room.
Jenna’s face was turned toward us, her red hair plastered to her sweaty temples. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth a perfect ‘O’ of strained ecstasy.She wasn’t pretending. This was the real thing, the edge she secretly craved. Victor’s hands gripped the flare of her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, sure to leave bruises she would trace in the morning with a secret, swollen pride.“Look at her,” Claire whispered, guiding me to the adjacent loveseat. We settled into its soft embrace, my body curling instinctively into the plush comfort of her side. Her arm went around my shoulders, pulling me close.“Look how perfectly she takes him. How deep.”
Victor’s pace increased, becoming brutal, machine-like. Jenna’s cries pitched higher, breaking into incoherent pleas. “Oh god, Daddy, yes… fuck, fuck… so deep…”
“Such a good little cunt for me, aren’t you?” Victor’s voice was a low, dark rumble, devoid of anger, full of possession. He didn’t wait for an answer.He fucked the answer into her.
I was hard again, achingly so, pressed against Claire’s thigh.She noticed. Her hand, so gentle, found its way under the soft towel she’d wrapped around me, her fingers curling around my cock. She began to stroke me slowly, her thumb smearing a bead of pre-cum over the sensitive head. It was a stark, tender contrast to the violent coupling before us.
Victor’s eyes, sharp and blue, lifted and found mine over Jenna’s trembling back.A thin smile touched his lips. He was including me now. “Does she look pretty like this, Bill?” he grunted, not missing a stroke.“All broken and used?”
I could only nod, mesmerized.
“Tell him, Jenna,” Victor commanded, his hand coming down in a sharp, loud crack on her asscheek.She yelped, her body jolting forward. “Tell our audience what a greedy, hungry little slut you are.”
Jenna’s eyes, clouded with submission and pleasure, flickered to me.A cruel, beautiful smile twisted her lips. “I’m a fucking whore, Bill,” she panted, her voice raw.“Look at me. I need it… I need a real man to fuck me stupid. Not a boy.”
The words lanced through me, hot and sharp. Claire’s hand never stopped its gentle motion, a soothing counterpoint to the sting.Victor drove into her harder, making her shriek. “Compare us, darling. Be honest.”
Jenna’s head lolled, her forehead resting on the leather.Her words came between throttled gasps. “He’s… he’s so much bigger than you, Billy-boy.So much harder. Fills me up… makes me feel everything.” She threw a look over her shoulder, her eyes now dark with a taunting malice.“Your little dick… you probably came already, didn’t you? Sitting in a bath while a real man does real work.”
Each word was a needle. I shrunk into Claire, the humiliation a hot flush across my chest and face. But my cock, traitorously, throbbed in Claire’s hand.