Chapter 23: The Hidden Camera
Doug closed his office door behind him and turned the lock with a soft click. His laptop sat open on the desk, the little camera light a steady green. He'd set it up that morning before Sara was awake, a discreet black cylinder on the bookshelf behind the couch, angled to catch the whole living room. He angled the feed to his second monitor and settled into his chair.
Sara's footsteps padded down the stairs. She was on her phone, her voice low and playful as she crossed the living room and dropped onto the couch cushions.
"Travis, hey. It's Sara. I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a bit. Doug's working in his office all morning. Video calls." A pause. "Mmhmm, just us. I thought we could. keep each other company."
Doug watched her bite her lip through the camera feed. She had no idea she was performing just for him. She hung up and tossed her phone onto the cushion beside her, then stretched out on the couch in a sundress that had no business being a sundress, all thin straps and short hem.
He unzipped his jeans and pulled himself out, settling into his chair. The screen flickered to show his front door through the peephole camera he'd installed two weeks ago, and Travis Barnes stepping through it a few minutes later, all long limbs and hangdog awkwardness.
"Hey," Travis said, shutting the door behind him. His voice was thin through the tinny speakers.
"Hey yourself." Sara rose from the couch and crossed to him, and Doug watched her hands find the hem of Travis's t-shirt, push it up. The boy's stomach was pale and lean, and she pressed her mouth to it, dragging her tongue across the skin. "Thanks for coming."
"Uh. Yeah." Travis's voice cracked. "Anytime."
"Good." She pushed him down onto the couch, straddling his hips, her thin sundress rucking up over her thighs. She settled her weight on his lap, and through the camera Doug could see the outline of Travis's cock straining against his shorts, thick and impossibly long even through the fabric.
Doug's hand moved on his shaft. His wife reached down and pulled Travis's shorts down just enough, and there it was: that monumental cock, the gift and the curse, rising up pale and thick and so long it nearly touched his belly button. Sara moaned at the sight of it, stroking him with both hands.
"Jesus," she breathed. "Every time. I forget how big you are."
Travis's head fell back against the couch. "You. You said you had something planned?"
"Mmm." She leaned forward and kissed his neck, grinding her bare cunt against the underside of his shaft, and his whole body shuddered. "Just relax, baby. Let me take care of everything."
Doug watched her reach for her phone. She thumbed open a message, and then returned to the task at hand. She turned the phone over and rose, sinking her weight onto the enormous head of Travis's cock. Travis cried out, gripping the armrest of the couch, his knuckles white. Sara's cunt stretched around his girth as she lowered inch after inch onto him, her jaw dropping, small hitching moans escaping her closed lips for every inch her hips descended.
"Fuck," Travis gasped. "Sara, I'm not gonna last if you go that hard."
She giggled, a feathery flit of sound through Doug's hidden speaker, and began grinding in slow, rolling circles, her knees pressing down into the plush couch. "You'll last as long as I need you to," she murmured, leaning forward to take his mouth in a wet, open kiss.
Doug's hand moved faster. In the corner of his monitor, the camera feed flickered to show movement at the front gate. A lean, square-jawed man with silver hair walked up the path. Marcus, from the Barnes' parlor. He quietly opened the door and Sara stood, turned, and then sat back into Travis's lap, facing away from him as he filled her. She beckoned Marcus over with a crooked finger and opened her mouth.
Marcus stepped in and shut the door behind him, then crossed the room without a word. He stood in front of the couch, unzipping his khakis with one hand while the other settled on the back of Sara's head. She opened wide for him, tongue flat and waiting, and he fed his cock to her mouth like she was nothing but a receptacle.
Travis groaned beneath her, his hips bucking up as she swallowed Marcus's length. The rhythm of her grinding never stopped. She took Marcus to the root on the first pass, her throat working around him, and Marcus's breath came out in a long, shaky hiss.
"That's it," he said. "Goddamn, girl."
Doug's hand slowed on his shaft, savoring the view. His wife, impaled on one cock, throat full of another. He watched her eyes flutter shut, watched the way her jaw relaxed and her head began to bob with a lazy, practiced rhythm. She was in her element. She was built for exactly this.
Marcus grabbed her hair in a fistful and fucked her throat in short, shallow strokes. Sara took it, drool spilling over her chin, her nose buried in his silver pubic hair. She moaned around him, the vibration buzzing through his shaft, and he cursed and pulled out just long enough to smear the head across her lips.
"You're going to make me spend already," he said.
Sara laughed, throaty and wrecked. "Then spend."
She took him back in, and he did. She swallowed every pulse, milking him dry with her tongue, and when he pulled out she showed him her empty mouth before turning her attention back to Travis, who was gripping the couch cushions like a lifeline.
"More," Travis gasped. "Sara, please, I need, I'm so fucking close, I can't hold it."
"You'll hold it." She sunk down on him, grinding hard on his base, and his eyes rolled back. "There's more coming."
Dan was next. Doug's camera caught him walking up the path, hands in his pockets, that lean young body moving easy. He let himself in without knocking, and Sara turned her head and crooked her finger at him the way she had done Marcus. Dan was already hard by the time he reached the couch, and he pulled his cock out with a shy grin that turned wolfish as he watched her throat work.
"Damn, Sara," he said. "I could watch you all day."
"Don't just watch." She slid her hand to his shaft, guiding him in beside Marcus's spent cock. "Feed me."
Dan stepped close and she took him whole, hands dropping to Travis's thighs as she worked her mouth. Doug had seen his wife give head a hundred times, but never like this. Never while she sat on another man's cock, while her hips rolled with a patience that said she had all day and every one of these men was going to fill her up.
Dan came quick, too. Young blood, Doug thought, watching the camera feed as Sara swallowed and swallowed at the jerk of the kid's hips. She didn't miss a drop, and when Dan pulled back with a dazed look she wiped her chin with the back of her hand and smiled up at him.
"Good boy," she said.
Jordan arrived at the gate while Dan was still buttoning his jeans. Doug recognized the old friend's walk, the easy slouch of his shoulders. Something tightened in Doug's stomach, a foreign, hungry knot, but his hand kept moving on his shaft. He watched Jordan push the door open and stop short at the sight of Sara mounted on Travis, still grinding, still wet.
"Jesus," Jordan said. "You didn't tell me there'd be a show."
"Get over here," Sara said. The command in her voice was soft but absolute. "I need another one in my mouth."
Jordan crossed the room and unzipped his pants, his thick cock springing free. He stroked it once, twice, watching her lips part, then fed her. Sara's eyes watered as she took him deep, her whole body arching in Travis's lap, and Travis cried out beneath her.
"Oh god," Travis groaned. "Oh god, she's clamping down, I'm gonna come, I can't, I'm gonna come right now."
Sara pulled off Jordan's cock just long enough to say, "Not yet."
She pushed Travis's knees up, and the boy's enormous shaft slid deeper into her, angle shifting. Travis lost it. He came with a broken howl, his hips bucking, his seed flooding into her cunt in thick pulses that leaked down his shaft and soaked the couch. Sara gasped and rode him through it, her own body clenching around the flood, while her mouth stayed locked on Jordan's cock.
Jordan came next, his hand gripping her hair as he unloaded down her throat. Sara swallowed it all, never slowing, and when he pulled out she licked her lips and looked toward the door.
Another figure appeared in the camera frame, a man she didn't know from the gloryhole. He was dark-haired and thick through the shoulders, and he walked in like he owned the place. Doug felt his own stroke speed up at the sight of the stranger's dependable hardness, the way his wife opened her mouth without hesitation and closed her eyes and took exactly what she was given, Travis softening inside her while she moaned around another man's shaft.
The stranger's cock filled her mouth without ceremony, and she took him like she'd been waiting for it all morning. Her throat rippled around him, her eyes closed, her hips still circling slow and deliberate on Travis's softening shaft. The boy beneath her was a wreck, his chest heaving, his massive cock slick with her juices and his own spend, already stirring back to life inside her.
Doug's hand had stopped moving. He just watched, transfixed, as the stranger grabbed Sara's jaw and fucked her face in shallow, brutal strokes. Drool spilled down her chin. Her mascara ran in dark tracks. She moaned around him and reached back to grip Travis's thighs, grinding harder as the boy hardened again inside her.
The stranger grunted and pulled out. He pumped himself twice, and his load hit Sara's open tongue in thick, white ropes. She closed her mouth and swallowed, showing him her empty throat, then licked the last drop from her lips.
Travis bucked beneath her. "Again," he gasped. "I'm hard again, please, I need to come inside you."
Sara laughed, low and wrecked, and rose up onto her knees. She guided the blunt head of his cock back to her entrance and sank down, taking all twelve inches in one slow, endless glide. Travis's whole body locked up.
Doug shoved his chair back and dropped to his knees on the office floor. He gripped the base of his cock and hauled it up toward his mouth, folding his body the way Travis had shown him, the way he'd done in the bedroom two nights ago and again this morning, alone, desperate. His spine creaked. His jaw ached. But the taste of himself was already on his tongue, salty and dark, and the sight of his wife impaled on that monstrous cock, moaning while the stranger buttoned his jeans, pushed him past the point of dignity.
He got the head past his lips. Then more. He worked his own shaft deeper, gagging once, then again, his eyes watering as he swallowed himself down. The camera feed flickered in his peripheral vision. Sara's mouth stretched around a low, keening cry as she rode Travis, her thighs slick, her tits bouncing, her fingers digging into the boy's chest.
Travis grabbed her hips and started fucking up into her, frantic, piston-fast. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna—"
"Cum in me," she snarled. "Fucking fill me up, baby."
Doug's hand pumped the base of his cock while his mouth worked the shaft, the taste of his own pre-cum flooding his tongue. He watched Travis arch off the couch with a guttural scream, watched his wife's body seize as the boy's seed flooded her, watched her claw at his chest and cum around him with her head thrown back.
Doug couldn't hold it. He shoved his cock deep into his own throat and came, a hot, thick flood that he swallowed in desperate gulps, his hips jerking, his eyes rolled back. Stray drops escaped to paint his chin, and he pressed his mouth over the head of his cock to catch the last of it.
He collapsed back on the office floor, panting, semen cooling on his stubble and the taste of himself heavy in his gut. On the monitor, Sara slid off Travis and knelt between his spread legs, taking his softening, dripping cock into her mouth to clean him. She swallowed everything, every drop of her own spend and his, and when she looked up at the hidden camera, her lips wet and swollen, she smiled like she owned the whole filthy world.
Doug lay there, cock still twitching against his thigh, and stared at her smile through the lens. He wondered if she knew. If some part of her had felt his eyes on her all along. It didn't matter. He'd swallow his own cum a hundred times to watch her like this, greedy and insatiable, thinking she was getting away with everything.