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It was free, and as it came out, a drop of my come fell from the tip and hit the floor. I wanted you to see this. I wanted you to see what was coming for you, what was about to be yours, what was always yours. But you didn't. You still kept your eyes closed, like the good little girl that you are. You kept them closed so you wouldn't be tempted to look for the woman rested against the wall, so that you wouldn't ask her to look at you.
And as I had done before, I told you. I told you it was time for you to be fucked, time for you to release it all so I could hold you again. I didn't tell you so she could hear it. I didn't want her to be prepared. I wanted it to take her by surprise, to throw her off balance, to throw her down on the floor in the corner, so she could finally spread her legs and fuck herself while I fucked you. I didn't say it, I tightened my grip on your hair and pulled you back to me. And you knew.
You knew just before I reached around to you, before I reached my fingers through your hair to find that pearl so that I could stroke it, so that I could rub it, and slide past it to get it wet enough. And the moment had come, the moment when you would speak again.
I pushed my way past you, inside you, deep. I went deeper than I ever had before. I could feel myself inside you. I could feel my cock pushing against your skin, as if it was trying to break through, to escape, only so it could discover that there's no life on the outside worth living and to then return.
Your breathing was now betraying you, telling me that I was now in control of everything you want. It was begging me, begging me to finish you, to finish off everything. You couldn't stop saying things. You had to speak, you had to ask and to tell me how much you wanted my come to drip out from between your lips, so you could dip your finger inside yourself and taste it. You had to speak or you would cry.
And for the first time, since the doors closed on the seventh floor, I could hear her. She spoke too, but it wasn't a word. It was a sound, a sigh, a complement to you. It said that in all the times she had been in love, sweet, dirty, reviled, and fucked senseless, she had never heard anyone as beautiful as you.
And that made me even harder. It made my sex hurt to the point of numbness, as it pounded against you inside, as I grabbed your hip, pulled you closer and pushed you away. It made me hard to the point where I could fuck you both at the same time. But that was the least of it, that was the least of the most unbelievable things that were to happen that night.
She looked at you when she said it, as her breathing became heavier, as I pulled you against me. She finally looked at you, betrayed her lust, admitted that when the doors opened, and she saw me, she didn't hesitate for a second, even inside. If she had been with her husband, or a lover, she would have pushed him away, run inside and closed the doors so she could be here.
For the first time since I had dropped your underwear to the floor, and kissed you and pulled your hair and penetrated you, I looked at her. And in that brief moment before I closed my eyes, her lips parted. I could see them in the darkness, as I slid in and out of you, as I smelled you getting hot and sweaty. Her lips parted but no sound came out. They parted so she could breathe more deeply, so she could fill her chest more and feel her nipples slide against the silk that wrapped them and kept them sacred.
I wanted to kiss them. I wanted to kiss her lips while you came, so you could scream without obstruction and I could feel the sweetness of kissing you. And then it happened.
I could hear her moving again.