Rustle and Moan

1 min read

photo: MetArt

I stood in the doorway and watched her. It was all I could do.

It was a gray early morning. Just dawn. I had gotten up for water when I passed her door. I heard the softest — I know I will never forget the precious sound in there — moan and rustle coming from inside her room.

She was face down and her sheets were in a tangle at one thigh.

The other leg was free and dangling off the bed… I took a deep breath at the vision.

Her beautiful neck and back held my eyes for a quiet, strong moment before my intense gaze strayed slowly down across her lower back and bum and traveled a straight line down her thigh, porcelain perfect leg and naked foot. I ran back up the smooth skin runway to the only motion in that still and too warm room.

Her hand was beneath her and her fingers were busy with her open pussy lips.

My cock moved inside my white BVDs and edged its way longer down my snug trunk leg. I shouldn’t have been looking in, but I stood transfixed.

It was all I could do.

When she started to bounce on her hand I could feel my hardness heading to climax without touching it. It ached against the cotton. I pulled it out, automatically, and pulled on it fast and hard like a teenager crazy with lust in the middle of the night. I ejaculated a long stream in through the door and towards her on the bed. I bit back a cry as she let one out; I had to continue to stroke all I had inside out.

I came to my senses enough to hurry down the hall and I think I heard a quiet understanding smilelaugh.

Leave a Reply