Studio Audience Ch. 01

Finally I pulled her face up, kissed her, and insisted that we'd clean up the rest tomorrow. She smiled and nodded through the tears, and I steered her toward our bedroom.

"You know," she said through a half laugh, "I was planning to fuck your brains out tonight with the house finally to ourselves... but I'm sorry, babe, I just don't think I can right now... look, I even..." With that, she let her dress fall to the floor, showing off a set of lace lingerie I had never seen before.

I stared, stunned.

I loved my wife dearly, I found her to be incredibly attractive, but it had been a while since we had had any sort of an adventurous sexual relationship. In our younger days, of course we had been more energetic, but having Rebecca so soon after college -- after all, Megan got pregnant during our senior year -- and settling into the humdrum of adult life, we had gotten much more "vanilla." Yet here she was, wearing new lingerie, and looking amazing in it. She had always been curvy, but her waist and tummy had never filled out like her ass and breasts after having Rebecca. Having ordered gifts for her in the past, I knew that she wore a 34D, and my eyes drank in every inch of her perfect breasts. I always told her that her breasts were my favorite, and this set of lingerie was making them look even better. Thin triangles of lace danced over her pale skin, hiding her dark areolas, linked with a fine chain in the middle, and leaving the undersides and tops of each breast open to my gaze. She knew my weakness for "under-boob" and cleavage, and she had clearly ordered this set to play into it. My cock stirred at the sight in front of me, and I took a step forward.

My lips went to hers, and I brushed back her hair as I pushed her onto our bed, falling on her. I could feel her breasts pushing the lace into me, and I groaned, biting her lip softly.

"You look amazing..." I whispered into her mouth as she moaned with me.

"Jon... I... I might be too tired..."

"That's alright, love... just let me make you feel good... then see if you want to do anything..."

She whimpered and nodded her assent, pushing my head down gently. This woman always knew what she wanted. I grinned and pulled her bottom lip down with my teeth for just a second before descending. My tongue flicked out and caught her jaw bone, tracing it with light kisses as my hands went to her breasts. I could feel her legs wrap around me, as I pushed my hardening bulge into her. Even through my pants, I could feel the warmth emanating from her, just behind the roughness of that lace. My teeth found her collar bone, and she groaned as my hands went to her breasts. My fingers teased the chain pulling her top together, feeling it strain with each deep breath she took. I squeezed gently. Then I squeezed harder. Pushing my thumbs into her nipples and feeling them push back under the fabric.

"Megan... baby... you are..." I kissed her windpipe. "... the sexiest ..." I kissed lower. " ... woman ..." I kissed her sternum. "... alive ..." I kissed her right nipple. My teeth grazed the lace. Her hips writhed up into me, begging for more. Grinning into her, I let her feel my breath on her breast. I knew what she wanted. I also knew what she needed. And I was going to tease her just how she needed me to.

My hand snaked up her torso, until I found her throat. She whimpered as I gripped the sides of her neck. Careful to not restrict her breathing in any way, I increased the pressure.

"What do you need, baby?" I wanted to hear her say it.

"I.... Jon ... please ..."

"What do you need, baby?" I hardened my grip just enough to notice.

"I... need you, baby... I need you so badly..."

"Be specific."

"I need your mouth baby... please..."

"Hmmmmm..." I bit her nipple slowly through the lace. "Where do you need it...?"

Her hips bucked.

"Down... down there... please ... go down on me..."

"Down...? Where?" I pushed her right where she needed me to. She was going to say it. She needed to say it. But she needed me to make her say it.

"My... my cunt... baby my cunt please... please lick my cunt..."

I grinned.

Propping myself up, I pushed my mouth to hers, forcing my tongue inside and under her own. Then I pushed myself back, slid down the bed, and hoisted her legs over my shoulders. My hands reached up, trailing my fingers up her thighs, and slowly slid her lace thong off. I let my mouth hover over her for a second; letting her feel my breath. She whined and tried to lift herself up into me, but I crossed my arms over her tummy and held her firm. Her heat and wetness radiated up into my face, and I could already taste her on my lips.

Slowly, gently, I lowered my face between the legs of the woman I loved more than anything. My tongue slowly extended, tracing up the side of her slit. It was heaven. Slightly rough, she had clearly shaved a few days ago, and the incoming bush was damp and still short enough to be stiff. I let out an involuntary moan, and I could hear her breathless laugh over me. Her hand descended into my hair, and her fingers twisted in it.

"mmmmm good boy..." Fuck. She always knew how to turn the tables.

My tongue ran up and over her soaked pussy, pausing to trace a circle around her clit, and then down the other side. As I started the circuit again, I felt her pull my head in and move her hips to meet me. My entire world was Megan's vagina. I loved it. My hard cock throbbing in my pants had already started leaking, and the change in dynamic was sending more and more blood down into it. I tried to look up at her, but she brought a second hand to the back of my head and started rocking her hips into me.

Bitch, I thought with an internal chuckle, she's fucking my face... she hasn't done that in ages... this is amazing. My jaw pushed forward, and my tongue was out hard and stiff as she pushed herself into it. I could feel her wetness soaking my chin and my collar, but I only cared about her. I only cared about how far into her soaked cunt my tongue could reach. I reached up and found her breasts with my hands again. My thumbs found her nipples and started tracing them. My top lip found her clit, and I held it there for her use. She used it.

Moaning over me, I could feel Megan let her torso drop back onto the bed. She started a low long wail as she humped my mouth harder and faster. Both hands on the back of my head were forcefully pulling me in, and it was getting harder to breathe. I moaned into her, letting her grind into the vibrations. Suddenly her right hand left my head, and her left curled into a fist. She started shaking how she always does when she's close to an orgasm, and her hips left the bed. I quickly slid one hand under her ass, holding her in the air, while my other hand plunged two fingers into her cunt and curled them up to find the place I always found. She screamed. Both hands left my head, and I looked up to see her covering her eyes and covering her mouth, stifling the cries -- muscle memory from when Rebecca had lived down the hall. I relentlessly rammed my fingers into her favorite spot, feeling her cunt tense and flood as she started to orgasm. She let her hand fall and screamed my name. Her hips rose and shook as she released a torrent of fluid all over my hand and chest. I didn't stop. Her eyes flew wide open and she locked them with mine.

I glared back down, telling her "Cum. Now. Don't stop. This is my cunt. Cum, Megan. Cum, you little slut. Cum for daddy's fingers in your cunt." She did. She loved that kind of filthy talk, and she let me have exactly what I demanded. Her mouth opened wordlessly, and she let out another jet of wetness, further soaking my shirt. Finally, I let her hips down onto the bed once again, and I pulled her into me as she caught her breath.

The silence was divine. Holding her, my love, as she gripped my arm and slowly came back down to Earth. Her breathing slowed, and got deeper, and slowed further, and slowed still more. My breathing matched it, but the bulge in my pants refused to recede, especially as it was now nestled between the bare ass of the woman I adored. I tried to ignore it as her breaths slowly morphed into the soft, even, barely perceptible snores that I knew so well. She had warned me that she was tired. I forced myself to remember I had promised her that I only cared about her pleasure tonight. Yet, I still felt a sigh trying to escape as the ache in my swollen cock was sure to go unsatisfied. Resigning myself to this fate, I slowly and gently extricated myself from Megan, pulled the comforter over her, and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. She never stirred. It had been a long day, she had consumed at least a bottle of wine, and, to be fair to myself, I had acquitted myself extremely well. I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, peeled it from my soaked chest, and washed my face, getting ready for bed. I resisted the urge to shower, knowing that Megan particularly loved waking up to the faint smell of her orgasm lingering on my skin.

Despite my nightly routine, I remained wide awake. This always happened when I drank, and I knew it would be a while before sleep would take me. This is when I really started to miss my full library. The new one was just so small, and it reminded me that my daughter had grown up and left home. So much emotional baggage in an unfamiliar space was hardly enticing, but I knew I needed to break into the habit of new furnishings sooner rather than later. I pulled on my pajama pants, an old hoodie, and tried to settle into the corner of Rebecca's room -- shit -- I mean my new library -- where my favorite chair had ended up. I grabbed one of the literary journals that I should have read a month ago and tried to focus on it. I won't pretend that I succeeded.

The title of a particularly dull article swam before my eyes twice, then three times, before I absorbed any of what it said. I was still a bit tipsy, I was exhausted, and hell I was horny. Part of me wanted to walk back into our bedroom and take Megan where she was, whether or not she was awake. We'd talked about such a scenario before, and both of us had given advance consent, but it had never happened. I was just weighing my options, imagining the feeling of lifting her limp hips and sliding my cock inside her, when a sound cut through the dead air.

Water was running. I paused and almost got up, thinking that Megan must have been taking a pre-bed shower. Honestly, the idea of shower sex was even hotter than waking her up for another go. My cock sprang to life almost immediately at that prospect. But... that wasn't where the noise was coming from. I listened harder. It was coming... from behind me? Fuck, I thought, perfect time for a goddamned leak in the walls. But then I remembered. I could have hit myself for being so thick. Emily. Of course the shower in the studio apartment would be right behind the wall my chair leaned against. She must be showering before bed. My breath caught.

The image of her at dinner once again flashed before my eyes. That tight dress. The way her breasts kept pushing up into it. The way her ass moved as she walked. The way her chest pushed out when she laughed. How she had leaned back against me. The smell of her hair as she did so. The heat of her arm as she leaned on mine. Then it all came flooding back. The way she had spilled water all over that thin, white shirt. The way she had lifted her shirt to her eyes. The sheen on her wet breast as she came so close to unknowingly exposing herself. My cock throbbed, and I knew there was no way to push those thoughts back down again. Not tonight at least. Not while my throbbing manhood had been so recently teased, built up, and then denied after Megan fell asleep.

My hand moved under the journal I was holding, resting it against the outline of my stiff cock. Dammit... that feels so good... I couldn't help but shift my hips, letting the weight of the journal press my hand down, giving friction to my needy hard on. The final attempt to push down those thoughts -- I've known Em forever... she's Becky's best friend... she's basically a kid ... well... no she is 19 now... fuck me, she's almost 20... Megan was right, she was held back a year... a 19-year old college freshman... right behind me... naked... rubbing her body all over... I let out a soft groan as I felt my hand slip under my sweatpants. My fist found my cock, already soaked in sweat and precum. It was warm in here, but I hadn't noticed. All I could feel was the tug of my skin under my fist, the heaviness of my balls as they hung loose in their sack, the softness of the veins that started to pulse along my shaft.

I imagined how she was right there behind me, lathering up those perfect breasts that I had come so close to seeing just last week. In my mind, she was lifting them, squeezing them, playing with them just how I would. Maybe she was lifting her leg now. Maybe she was lathering up into the crease of her crotch. Maybe she'd bend over to lather down her legs. I could practically see her ass on display as she did. In my imagination, she had a perfectly smooth pussy, freshly shaved, just for me. It would be poking out between the firm globes of her buttocks as she bent over. I could walk right up. Grab them with both hands. Impale her tight little pussy on my hard cock. Make her moan.

"ooohhhhfuckmmmmm"

I froze. My hand stopped mid-stroke. My heart forgot to beat for a few seconds. Just as I imagined her moaning. Moaning for my cock. I swore I heard.

"mmmmgodd yessssss like that...."

There it was again. I looked up, half-expecting to see Megan standing in the doorway. I readied my excuses; I would swear I was thinking of her. But the room was empty. I strained my ears. Sure enough, Megan's soft snores were still drifting down the hallway from our room.

"oh god like that yesssss exactly like that.... mmhmmm please...."

It couldn't be. There was no way she --

I couldn't remember standing, but I found myself pressed against the wall. My ear was flat to the drywall, I held my breath and listened, my hand still tightly gripping my cock. The water in the pipes was almost deafening as it rushed right past me. I shifted to get a better location and listened with rapt attention to the sound of droplets splattering against the shower wall. A low hum was barely discernable, it must be the bathroom fan, and then... a higher hum... my heart skipped another beat.

"oh no sir please, keep going..." It was Emily's voice. It was unmistakable. My first thought was that she'd already invited a boy over, breaking one of the rules we had agreed on. But no, I listened harder, there was no other voice coming through, just that higher whine. I hear a soft click, like a light switch, plastic on plastic, and the frequency of the hum rose. Of course. Emily whimpered and I heard a smooth slide down the wall right where I was standing. My cock practically shot out precum as I gripped it harder and pumped.

She was getting off on a vibrator. Moreover, she was right there. She was less than a foot from me. Sliding down the shower wall, her vibrator pressed between her legs, she was sitting under steaming water, completely naked, and about to orgasm. She had no idea she had an audience.

I knew I should stop. I knew this was wrong. She was having the most private of moments. She had no intention of bringing anyone into this, least of all me. I was her best friend's father. I was twice her age. I tried to remember all of this, but my ear remained plastered to the wall, and my hand remained inside my sweatpants, massaging the hardness of my cock. I longed for her to keep talking, to keep up her half of the conversation inside her head, to let me hear her pleasure herself. As if on cue, she obliged.

"yesssss I am naughty... mmmhmmm... yes Mr. L-ooohhhhhhyessss fuck me like thattttt"

It took all I had not to slam my fist into the wall as my cock throbbed and threatened to explode right there in my pajama pants. It almost sounded like she was saying my name. But... no that wasn't possible. A new sound caught my attention, drowning out all other thought. A wet schlik schlik schlik, rhythmic and slow, alternating with the volume of the vibrator. She's fucking herself... oh my god she's fucking herself with the vibrator... I bit my lip to keep quiet, but I could feel my orgasm approaching. I needed to hold on; to hear her finish.

"y-y-yesss Jo-oooohhhhhhnonono no don't stopppp... I don't care if she knowssss if Me-yyyygoodddd if she finds outttt... yesssss.... fuck meeeee Mr...Jaahhhh-JooooohhhhhHHHHHhHHHaaaHHHHHH" she screamed out incoherently and I came. My cock erupted with a whole night of pent-up desire. I must have somehow stayed silent, but dots swam in front of my eyes, and I had to sit down on my chair, still gripping my throbbing cock, as pulse after pulse of hot, sticky semen splattered inside my pajama pants.

I don't remember laying down, but I was vaguely aware of the shower shutting off as I turned my head against the headrest of my reading chair. I groaned out loud, caught myself, listened for Megan's snores, and let out a deep sigh when they continued uninterrupted. With the shower off, the house was once again still as a grave. I could hear the blood pumping through my temples, and I could feel it pulsing through the shaft of my softening cock, still gripped hard in my soaked fist. I groaned again. The dark spot was growing down the leg of my pants, and I had no idea how I was going to explain this the next morning. Gingerly, I stepped out of those pants, walking to the bathroom in just my old hoodie, feeling ridiculous.

As I quietly washed my hands and scrubbed the incriminating evidence out of the fabric, I should have had plenty of time to reflect and regret what had just happened. I should have internally punished myself for so blatantly invading Emily's privacy, for getting myself off to someone who wasn't my wife, for getting off to my daughter's friend, for getting off to a girl half my age, for any number of other things I had thought as I stroked myself to climax listening through that wall. I only had one thought coursing through my brain at that moment, however.

I wonder if she showers at the same time every night...