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Shit.
A couple of windows are still open, clips running on a loop.
In one of them, it’s me–– my hand curled around my dick, my fingers sliding up and down, my chest heaving.
In the other, it’s that old flame of mine sucking my cock.
Her blonde hair sways as she bobs her head. The volume is turned low, but even so, I can hear her moans and my heavy breaths.
Nothing spells home like sharing personal porn with your sweetheart.
Damn it.
I swing my eyes to Senna.
Her body shifts, her eyes slowly peeling open. Sleep still lingering on her eyelids, she props herself on her elbows.
“Hey,” she says, blinking a few times, a bit confused.
She swivels and cranes her neck, trying to check the time displayed on the screen behind me.
Shifting my position, I block her view.
“Where were you?”
She glances up, irritated.
Her voice is hoarse and tinged with anger.
“What time is it?” she asks, trying to push me aside.
“Two o’clock,” I say, lowering myself to the edge of the couch, clearing her view.
She searches my eyes.
I motion to the laptop.
“What were you doing?”
She sinks her back into the pillow and crosses her arms across her chest. Her lips purse in discontent, her eyebrows pinching into a ragged line.
“The next best thing I can do when you are not home,” she says, not sparing me the sarcasm.
Quietly, I chuckle.
A small smile crawls across her lips.
“Were you touching yourself?”
“It wasn’t that good,” she sneers.
“Clearly. You wouldn’t have fallen asleep. Remind me to block you from my website.”
She laughs.
“No, no,” she says, grinning.
“Yes, yes.”
