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HIDE
The back door swings open, the doorstop thudding, the blinds on the window rattling. Surveying the space quickly, I slide under his bed, deciding it would be the last place for a grown man to look while running into his house. He could go in the closet if he forgot his vest or jacket, and he could use the restroom. And since I’m limited tohis room, under the bed it is.
I don’t recall seeing his wallet or phone on the counter, and he definitely had his keys since he made it into town and back.
What has him coming home, alone, in the midst of his errands? He’s never done this before.
His boots appear in the doorway and when he lifts one leg, my brows furrow in confusion until—SLAM. He kicks the door closed. Something plunks onto the bed above me,and the sound of a belt being yanked open and a zipper being jerked down makes my skin hot.
Oh my god.
No way.
No. Fucking. Way.
Maybe the universe is trying to repay me for taking so long, or maybe she’s throwing me a proverbial bone after Hudson pulled back some. Either way, Hudson Gray came home to masturbate, and I’m going to get a front-row seat.
He grunts and bumps scatter reactively along my entire body, my nipples hardening against the floor. Both hands are splayed out, gripping the ground as my hips grind down, searching for friction to go with the show.
He moves through the room, entering the bathroom for a split second before returning. He does something on the surface of the bed, which sounds a lot like throwing a towel down, and the idea that he is putting something down tocatch all of his hot cummakes me literally shake. I cup a hand over my mouth and my body gently writhes, my pussy dripping into my panties, making my thighs sticky.
The slick glide of his wide palm over what must be the thickest, veiniest, heaviest, most perfect cock in existence has me biting into my bottom lip so hard I draw blood.
“God,” he groans.
He grunts and my eyes flutter closed, imagining myself on top of the bed, not under it. To be laid out for him, to be his canvas, his cum the paint that turns me intohis personal masterpiece.
Opening my eyes, I hear the zipper and the metallic clank of his belt buckle as he widens his stance. More grunts, another long groan that comes from somewheredeep inside him, so prodigious and weighty that my toes curl and the pressure between my legs comes to a head.
My cunt pulses in rhythmic, hungry waves as I soak my panties, my orgasm crashing down, leaving me in hot, wet, rushes.
“Oh fuck,” Hudson groans, and the soft whirr of his hand on his cock ceases, replaced by the sound of heavy liquid spilling across the bed, repeatedly, shot after shot.
My eyes practically roll back into my head when I hear how much Hudson comes, and I’d sell my soul to Barbara Walters to be that towel right now, I swear I would.
But in good time, I will be his human towel. I have to keep faith that it's true.
An ambitious bit of cum lands on the floor behind me, off the bed, and my pulse skitters with excitement that my man can do that. I don’t have experience, much less with a guy who ejaculates a ton or gets distance but, Jesus, that’s hot. I realize he has little control over the speed of semen leaving his body but still,fuck me,I’ve never wanted him more.
A beat passes, my cunt pulsing madly in my panties as my hips still seek friction from the groan, and Hudson disappears into the adjoined bathroom. A moment later, he returns and then, after lifting the lid on the wicker hamper and dropping a towel in, he leaves. I stay on the ground until I hear his truck start, and then I dig out my phone.
Is he gone?
Yes
What did he do?
I reread her question.
I know that he’s my future husband, and I also know that Hudson is a private man. I don’t think he’d want me talking about his masturbation habits with my sisters, so in an effort to have less to apologize about later, I decide to tell Ivy a truth, without fully coming clean.
He forgot to do something
I hid under the bed
Phew
Cool
