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When she recovers, she bends down—as if to take a closer look.
Nope. Wrong.
She’s licking it, then sucking it.
Watching this was a mistake. I don’t think I can ever look Art in the eyes again. Then again, I also can’t help but notice how much my mouth waters—along with other places—especially when Lemon pulls away, grabs a can of whipped cream, covers Mr. Big in it, and then devours it all.
“I need to be inside you,” on-screen Art growls when the whipped cream treatment repeats.
Okay, that’s fucking hot. I’d say yes right now, all my earlier hesitations be damned.
Then again, I’m still a bit drunk.
Not surprisingly, my hussy self doesn’t merely say yes. She sprawls back and spreads her legs welcomingly, moaning, “Yes, please.”
Hey, she could have said, “Open for business.”
But wait. “What about the condom?” I mutter out loud.
On his end, real-world Art tenses. Either he doesn’t like the “will they use protection or not” suspense, or he’s just plain bummed about where he’s about to stick Mr. Big.
“One moment.” On-screen Art runs back to his pants, fishes out his wallet, and rampages inside until he takes out a condom.
I glance at the real-world Art.
He darts a guilty glance at me. “I wasn’t being presumptuous by having that with me. I always carry one in my wallet.”
Great. If I needed proof that he’s a manwhore, there it is.
Before I can say anything, on-screen Art rolls the condom onto Mr. Big, and then he fluidly positions himself over Lemon, his sheathed tip prodding at the entrance of her opening.
Fuck me. Those glutes. That back. Soreness or not, I’m again as horny as a teen mountain goat… in heat.
He thrusts into her.
She moans.
My heartbeat skyrockets.
He grunts.
Real-world Art loudly clears his throat. “Should I fast-forward?”
“No,” I say, much too quickly. In a more moderate tone, I add, “What if the condom broke?”
“Would we even see that?” he asks.
Fuck him and his good points. “We might hear it?”
“What does that sound like?”
I take a calming breath. “Fine. Fast-forward.”
He does, but watching him fuck me super-fast only makes the video hotter—and more embarrassing.
Eventually, on-screen Art thrusts particularly violently into Lemon, which is when nearby Art must decide the condom question will be answered soon, so he resumes the video at normal speed.
“Art! Art! Art!” on-screen Lemon shouts over and over as she climaxes.
