Author's Note: All characters are 18 years of age or older.
The bed frame squeaked, and the headboard thumped against the wall. Lacy moaned, soft and sensuous, over the steady beat of Simon's hips against hers. Above them, the ceiling fan whirred and creaked. Her legs were hooked around the backs of his thighs, and her hands caressed his toned arms as he worked her over. She watched him. His knitted brow beaded with sweat, tousled brown hair matted. The tension in his jaw and neck. His muscular chest and abs -- fit but not bulky.
They were in his 2nd floor bedroom -- naked, covers and clothes strewn on the floor. As they fucked, her wet pussy squelched happily between her spread thighs, and her natural, musky odor wafted up around them. Somewhere outside, through the open window, she heard a dog barking and children playing and the low droning hum of cars on the highway. The spring heat rolled in on the breeze with the scent of cut grass. She wondered if anyone out there could also hear her sluttish moans.
"Oh god, Simon!" she panted hotly, "your cock feels so good inside me."
"Mmmm, babe, I've missed this tight little pussy."
"My naughty little pussy's all yours, baby," she moaned, caressing him with her hands and legs.
As Simon rutted her, Lacy could feel the rhythm of his strokes deteriorating as his climax approached. She tipped her hips up to meet his thrusts, squeezing his waist with her thighs. His cock pulsed within her snug confines, swelling with his imminent release.
"Ah, fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his legs and abs tensing.
"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Lacy cooed, clenching her muscles around his shaft.
Growling and baring his teeth, Simon slammed deep into her cunt and shot his load. Jet after jet of his young, potent seed sprayed into her, as his hips jerked and spasmed. Lacy moaned, her hands caressing up and down his back and sides. She loved the feeling of him cumming in her and knowing how good she felt for him. So what if she never came with him? When he was spent, he collapsed over her, groping her tits and kissing her lips amorously.
Once he could feel his legs again, he stood, yanked off the condom, and tossed it into the trash. Sitting up, Lacy grabbed her water bottle off the nightstand and chugged what was left.
"Need a refill?" Simon asked, but Lacy shook her head.
"Nah, it's fine -- I'll just fill it before I leave."
Simon leaned in to kiss her and groped of her sweat-slick tits, which somehow felt bigger than before.
"Join me in the shower?"
"You go ahead -- I've gotta walk home, so there's no point."
He was disappointed but didn't push it. Grabbing his clothes, he disappeared down the hallway towards the bathroom. Minutes later, she heard the shower running.
While he was gone, she ran her hands over her hot, damp skin. Her fingertips grazed her taut, tingling nipples before gliding down from her mountains, over the flat plain of her tummy, down to the moist valley between her thighs. As she dipped a finger into her gaped opening, she strummed her little button with her thumb. Her other hand slid under her, and two fingers slipped into her anus. Her sensitive, forbidden passage rippled with pleasure. Her body ached for release, and with little effort, she was already barreling towards it. Hanging on the cusp, an image of Weaver surfaced in her mind -- his taste, his smell, the feel of his body on and in hers. Her chest tightened, and her orgasm dissipated in an instant. Frustrated nearly to the point of crying, she withdrew her hands from between her sticky thighs in defeat. In the ten days since their arrangement ended, she hadn't been able to cum at all.
After a while, Lacy stood and padded over to close the window. A cool breeze fluttered over her hot, damp skin, flowing between her thick thighs to caress her bare, sticky sex. Peering out over Simon's backyard, past the swaying trees, she spotted his elderly neighbor standing on his back patio, wide-eyed and mouth agape.
The busty teen froze. Standing at the tall, double-wide window, she was exposed from mid-thigh up. Her first instinct was to cover herself with her arms, but a tremor of excitement raced up from her core, stopping her. Leaving the window open, she slowly slid up her panties -- a fire-red thong with lace sides -- and slipped into her cream-colored lace bra. It was a tight fit, and she was certain her breasts had gone up to at least an E-cup. Once her bra was fastened, she smiled and waved goodbye to the old man, saw him return the gesture, and closed the window and drew down the blinds. Not long after, she had her bag slung over one shoulder and was bidding Simon goodbye.
Claire's car was out front when Lacy arrived home. With her work project wrapping up, she was home a lot more often. Stopping outside the door, Lacy took a deep breath before going in. If she was lucky, her mom would be in the kitchen making dinner already, but as she slipped her shoes off in the entryway, she heard her moaning in the throes of passion instead. The sound had become a constant presence in the house, ever since she came home and caught her Claire bed with Weaver.
She'd just returned from Simon's that day, too. While dropping her bag in her room, she heard a suspicious noise coming from Claire's bedroom. Poking her head out into the hall, she heard it again. Unmistakable. The bedroom door stood ajar. As if driven by an invisible hand, she tiptoed down the hall, heart pumping. A few paces away, she heard it a third time -- her mother's soft, needy moan. This time accompanied by wood creaking and the dull thumping of the head board against the wall. Just on the other side of the door, Lacy took a deep breath and ever so carefully peeked in.
