Page 4 of Sticky Fingers

When her masked face turns towards me, and our eyes lock, it’s game over.

She’s too fucking hot. Those fucking eyes are enough to make a gay dude fucking straight.

I’m going to fucking come.

I’m pushed right into my own explosion of pleasure, and I pull out.

I take off the condom and start jerking my cock.

That’s right;

I want to leave a fucking souvenir for Peter Candelabra.

It’s mind-numbing and almost fucking catastrophic. It feels like the top of my dick has fucking exploded.

My head tilts back involuntarily as I jet out loads of cum one after the other.

It lands on the floor near the curtain.

Rope after rope of gooey, sticky, thick white cum. The kind that you could mistake for cream. Debra’s eyes go wide as she sees how much I’m coming.

“That’s right, baby,” she cooe. “Come for me.”

But I’m not fucking coming for this slut.

No.

I’m thinking about the fucking hot as fuck little intruder that I saw. The one that pushed me over the fucking edge.

The one I want more than I’ve wanted any woman in my fucking life till now.

The one that made me empty a quart of cum on the hardwood floors near the painting.

The one that…wait—

where did she fucking go?

It’s only been a few seconds, but I jerk my head upright to locate the hot cat burglar.

Maybe she was just a figment of my lust-filled imagination.

As I come back to myself and my vision recovers, I realize that the Picasso is no longer sitting in front of us. It’s under the arm of the sassy cat burglar, and she’s almost out of the fucking room.

Fuck.

This is a robbery!

My cum is on the floor, but I have more pressing shit to take care of. I need to stop this bitch or else they’re going to find out I was here and blame me.

I start to pull my pants back on. I look at Debra who has collapsed against the wall, when I hear the applause and see more lights switched on in the room behind us.

God fucking dammit.

The fucking curtains are opening, the Picasso is gone, and my cock is hanging out.

I look to around again for the sassy cat burglar But she’s nowhere to be found. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished into thin air.

Debra panics and throws herself back, trying frantically to lower her almost skin-tight dress. Peter is less than ten feet away. His hands stop mid-clap as he slowly realizes what his wife and I have been doing here.