Studio Audience Ch. 03

"Good girl."

Emily let out a low, defeated moan as Jackson slapped her ass one final time. Then she whimpered as he must have slowly withdrawn his spent cock from her gaping cunt. I heard a splatter on the tile. Then a wet, heavy slap. In my mind's eye, I saw him flop his long, limp cock up onto Emily's quivering ass and lower back. I heard her groan again in defeat, drawing another low chuckle from him. My mind was flickering in and out of an exhausted half-consciousness, but I heard him tell her again how good she had been. He patronizingly told her that she had taken it all as well as anyone he had been with, and that she had his number for the next time she needed this.

The rest of that night was hazy as I tried to collect my thoughts, find the strength to stand, and get to bed myself. I knew I was sitting with my back to the wall, but I couldn't remember assuming that position. A sink ran. A toilet flushed. The door to the bathroom creaked. The outside door slammed. A sink running again. The toilet flushing again. The shower turning on.

I caught myself breathing much too loudly when I realized the shower was on. How long had it been running? My mind spun, and I tried to collect my thoughts, again unsuccessful. A long, low, squeaking, like a squeegee over a car window, descended from above me, ending just behind my ear.

Emily let out a long, satisfied sigh.

My breath caught. My heart stopped. She too sat against the wall, used and content. She was letting the hot water run over her naked, battered body, sitting, recovering, just as I was. She was inches away.

"Well, Mister Lewis..." It sounded like she was whispering directly in my ear. "I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me."