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By (user no longer on site) OP
23 weeks ago
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The Gap in the Door
Barcelona’s night air was thick with heat, the scent of the city’s indulgence still clinging to the air as Andrew stood frozen in the dimly lit hallway of his sister-in-law’s apartment. The low hum of distant traffic outside was nothing compared to the pulse that thumped in his ears—the pulse of what he was witnessing.
Through the narrow gap in the door, he saw his wife, Gillian, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, her body glowing with sweat, her chest rising and falling in quick, eager breaths. But she wasn’t alone.
Rory.
His sister-in-law’s flatmate. Younger. Stronger. Confident in ways that made Andrew’s stomach tighten and his cock throb in ways he didn’t expect.
Rory was behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his broad shoulders flexing as he drove into her, over and over, deep, stretching her in a way that made her body shudder with each thrust. She gasped, hands clutching at the sheets, her nails digging in, trying to hold on as his pace grew rougher, more urgent.
Andrew’s breath hitched as he watched his wife take it.
Gillian’s mouth hung open, her moans shameless, filled with a kind of raw pleasure he hadn’t heard from her in years. Her body arched, pushing back to meet each stroke, grinding onto Rory as if she couldn’t get enough. And when Rory let out a deep, possessive growl, gripping her waist tighter, Andrew felt his stomach drop in a dangerous, forbidden thrill.
He should look away.
But he couldn’t.
The way Rory’s thick length disappeared inside her, the wet sound of their bodies colliding, the way Gillian screamed his name—it was primal, desperate, animalistic. She was lost in him, completely at his mercy, and she loved it.
And so did Andrew.
A thick drop of cum leaked from Gillian’s stretched entrance, glistening as it dripped down her thighs, only for Rory to slam into her again, forcing it deeper, making her gasp louder. She wasn’t just taking him—she was being filled, claimed, over and over, and it sent a sharp jolt of heat through Andrew’s gut.
His cock, straining against his pants, desperate for relief, for touch, but he didn’t dare move. This wasn’t his moment. It was theirs.
And he was simply watching.
Rory’s rhythm became frantic, his hands roaming over Gillian’s body, gripping her breasts, her throat, controlling her pleasure as much as his own. The bed creaked, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the room, until finally—Rory stiffened, his body locking, a deep, guttural groan spilling from his lips as he buried himself inside her one last time.
Gillian let out a cry of satisfaction, shuddering beneath him, her body milking every last drop he had to give. And still—he didn’t stop. He kept moving, thrusting through his own release, letting it spill from her, letting it drip onto the sheets, making sure she took all of it.
Andrew swallowed hard.
His wife—his Gillian—was still trembling, still gasping for air, still full of another man.
And he had never been more aroused in his life.
As Rory finally slowed, his hands still resting possessively on her hips, he leaned down, pressing his lips to her ear, whispering something that made her laugh breathlessly.
Andrew’s chest tightened. He was a stranger here—an intruder in his own wife’s pleasure.
And yet, he had never belonged more. |
