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Mr. D closed his eyes as she lowered her mouth along the entire length of his shaft. Up and down, her head bobbed. He moaned, took hold of her hair, and in a moment of strength and resistance, pulled her face away from his hard and glistening cock.
I couldn’t stop watching.
It was so wrong. Twisted even. And yet, my eyes were glued to the scene before me.
I could see the discomfort on Mr. D’s face as he was trying his damnedest to fight the woman off, but it was clear his hard dick had something else in mind. And I couldn’t help but feel the same way as this Shelly woman. I didn’t want to see this erotic movie come to an end.
I wanted more.
So, so much more.
My pussy throbbed even as my heart beat in fear, and I was two seconds away from touching myself as I spied on my principal getting a blow job in his bedroom.
My mind screamed. Everything was so wrong about this situation, but my body didn’t care. It reacted more than it had ever done so before. Sinful thoughts of wanting to see more of Mr. D were flooding every rational sense inside.
I wanted to watch him fuck her.
I wanted to watch and pretend it was me.
“I need to get to work. I mean it. I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry, but it’s getting late, and I have a lot to do,” he said, not releasing her hair and giving her a stern and uncompromising stare as he tugged her head back so she was forced to look into his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, but for now, I need you to leave.”
She sighed loudly but nodded. He released her hair and she stood up and then reached for her dress.
“You better,” she said with a pout. “I expect dinner and multiple orgasms as your way of an apology.”
“Deal,” he said, tucking his dick away from view and fastening his pants as he stood up from the bed. He stole a glance at the balcony again.
It was the first time I stopped staring at his crotch, and a part of me had wished he hadn’t fought her from continuing on.
“Come on,” he gave her a quick kiss, “I’ll walk you out.”
And just as quickly as they had entered the room, they had left. I considered leaving the closet and running through the slider since that was where Mr. D thought I was, but I was too afraid. What if they entered again just as I was crossing the room? They could change their mind and decide they wanted to have sex after all.
I remained in place, listening. It wasn’t long before I heard the front door close, then the sound of footsteps in the hallway approaching the bedroom door. Mr. D entered and rushed straight to the slider and opened the door wide. He walked outside, looked left and right, then when he didn’t see me, he walked to the railing and looked down as if I was courageous enough to jump.
Maybe I should have.
Taking a steadying breath, I stood, opened the door to the closet, and rubbed the fabric of Mr. D’s shirt down my thighs to make sure I was completely decent. Well… as decent as you can be while wearing no panties and just having watched your principal get sucked off by a nearly naked woman.
“Jesus! Corrine,” he said, as I startled him. “I thought you were hiding out here.”
I pointed to the closet, feeling the heat from my face, and from my pussy, unite. “I was in there.”
He looked at the closet, then the bed, then me. “Fuck. Did you…” He ran his hands through his hair and took a long pause. “I’m sorry. I was trying to get rid of her without making it totally obvious something was wrong.”
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault.”
He looked back at the bed as his face turned a shade of pink. “Did you see—fuck.” He cleared his throat. “I apologize.”
I gave a weak smile, desperate to leave the room. Stepping back into my hiding place, I retrieved my things before turning around. “No problem. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t be here getting in the way of you and your girlfriend’s evening.”
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just someone who I—” He shook his head and walked over to where I awkwardly stood. He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me out of the room. “Why don’t we just get back to what we were doing. I’m sure you have homework, and I have to work.”
I was never more grateful to have the conversation changed, but as he led me out of the room and down the hall, I wondered if he could feel that I had no panties on. Would he feel that there was no fabric seam beneath his fingers? And because I had no panties on, I wondered if it was obvious just how wet that entire voyeur situation had made me.
