Fifteen years back. Old apartment block. Quiet neighborhood. Everyone beds down early. Weekdays away on business. Weekends for fucking Katia, my ex. Friday night. Door creaks open soft. She leaps. Arms tight. Lips crash. Tongue deep. Body grinds. Hands squeeze her ass cheeks. She pulls back. Gasps. Eyes wild. ‘Got something. Hope not mad.’ Grabs hand. Tugs to hallway. Dim bulb flickers. Light seeps under doors. Neighbors snoring behind thin walls. She whispers, ‘Stéphane next door. Chatted MSN. Video horny. He’s waiting.’ Heart thumps. Curious. Nod. Knock light on his door. Parquet groans faint. He cracks it. Tall guy. Shy grin. ‘Hey.’ Quick intros. Hesitates. Then drops pants. Cock springs hard. Thick vein pulses. We stare. She smiles at me. I grin back. Door widens. Step over threshold. Into his dim living room. Screen glows—his chat open. But now live. Risk hits. Walls paper-thin. Stores rattle soft.
Inside. Air thick. He sits desk chair. Cock out. Strokes slow. Eyes on us. Katia presses me. Hot. Receptive. I caress tits over shirt. She sighs hushed. Unbutton slow. Bra peeks. He groans low. ‘Show more.’ I unhooks. Straps slip. Nipples hard. Pink. He pumps faster. Spits palm. Gland shines slick. I kneel. Hike skirt. Zipper rasps quiet. Lace thong black. Pull down. Kiss thighs. Pussy drips. Wet folds glisten. Turn her. Face cam—his webcam on. Lick slit. Tongue dives. Juices flood mouth. Sweet tang. She grips head. Pushes. Pulls. Moans muffled. ‘Shh,’ I hiss. Floor creaks under knees. Light filters door crack. Neighbor might hear.
The Contact
She pushes me up. His plea: suck me. Drops to knees. Lips wrap cock. Tongue swirls head. Sucks deep. No throat. Slurps wet. Saliva drips. Balls tighten. Stop her. Chair scrapes soft. Foot up. Pussy spreads wide. Fingers part lips. Pink hole winks. Thrust one. Two. Squish sounds. He jerks frantic. Eyes bulge. Replace with cock. Rub head on clit. Tease entry. She whimpers. Begs silent. Push in. Inch by inch. Tight heat grips. Walls echo faint pant. He stares. Drops dick. Hypnotized. Balls deep. She arches. Lips spread max. View perfect. He grabs cock. Flogs hard. Grunts choked. Cums. Rope sprays belly. Sticky globs.
The Indiscretion
I thrust slow. Deep. Hips slap muffled. She breathes ragged. Faster bursts. She claws back. Climax builds. Floorboards protest creaks. Peek screen—no, live now. He softens. Jerks again. I swell. Warn her. She nods. Fingers clit furious. We burst. Cum floods her. She quakes silent scream. Pussy milks. Pull out. Cream leaks thighs. He cums weak second load. Fingers sticky.
Katia slips out. Wipes hall bath quick. We chat him low. Thanks exchanged. Promise maybe meet again. Slip door. Hall cold. Heart hammers chest. Footsteps echo stairwell. Old lady passes floor below. Nods sleepy. No clue. Back apartment. Door shuts whisper. Secret locked. Night hums innocent. Ours burns raw.