Page 13 of Exposed

What would that feel like?

This, then, becomes the strangest part of the scene: you vanish into the en suite bathroom, return with a washcloth, and oh-so-gently wipe away your semen.

I am expected to clean myself when you’re done with me.

And then . . . ?

And then you press Rachel to the bed and bury your face between those thin white thighs, and I do know how this feels, how your tongue feels against my labia, against my clitoris, and I throb thinking of it. I throb, watching your dark head move between thin creamy white thighs so unlike my thick, muscular, darkly complected ones. Watching you eat Rachel out, to use a newly acquired phrase. It is an apropos phrase, too. It looks like you are attempting to devour something hidden in her cleft, head moving side to side, up and down, in circles, and then I watch you slide your fingers under your chin and move them in thrusting motions over and over. Rachel gasps, arches, cries out, and you reach up with your free hand and twist Rachel’s small rosebud nipple so hard I cringe in sympathy.

Rachel screams then, a cry of raw pleasure.

You elicit screams for long minutes more, and then straighten, and you are erect once more. You grip Rachel’s slim hips and roughly twist her belly-down so you are standing with those hips in your hands, and you do not show any mercy at all as you thrust in, hard. Flesh slaps against flesh, and Rachel cries out. Your hand flashes—crack!—and smacks hard, so hard.White flesh pinks rosy, and then you do the same to the other buttock, and now you alternate. Thrust, smack, thrust, smack.

And then you happen to glance to your left.

Your thrust falters.

My heart stops in my chest.

Fear bolts through me.

I am frozen.

You have seen me.

“X.” It is a guttural command.

I am motionless, paralyzed.

“Out here.Now.”

I push open the closet door. “Hello, Caleb.”

“I did not take you for a voyeur.” You are still buried inside Rachel.

“Neither did I.”

“Yet here you are, watching us.”

I have no answer. I will not argue.

Us.That word stings.

You smack Rachel’s buttock, pulling your arm back, swinging it in a vicious horizontal arc. The impact against already rosy flesh is brutally hard, must hurt so badly. Rachel’s head hangs between trembling shoulders, body rocked forward as you thrust.

“You want to watch, X?” Your voice is quiet with fury. “Then watch.” You point at the bed. “Up there.”

I climb on the bed, and now Rachel’s eyes meet mine. There is no shame that brown gaze. Excitement, rather.

You resume fucking.

Your eyes pin me, never waver. You spank Rachel’s buttocks harder than ever, and the girl only rocks into you all the more and cries out in bliss and now glances up at me with sex-glazed eyes and winks at me.

I alternate watching you, and Rachel.

Both sets of eyes are on me, and I am excruciatingly aware that I am affected by this scene. I press my thighs together as I kneel on the bed and watch you fuck Rachel.

When Rachel comes yet again, it is while staring up at me, mouth gaping open, breathless, body jolting forward with each of your brutally hard thrusts, and it is bizarre, so strange, far too intimate a thing to watch another woman come, to see your erection inside a body not mine, to watch you fuck another woman to orgasm. I am torn apart with disgust. I hate this.