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"Where's that coming from?" I mutter when I hear the groan again. I place my ear against the wall. "It's coming from his room."
I can't believe it, so I quietly open my door and step out into the hallway. My heart slams against my chest with excitement, eager at what I might find. The sensual sounds get even louder as I approach his door.
What if I see him watching porn? Or worse, he’s brought a woman home?
I stop.
But a grunt sets me back in motion with a tingling sensation between my thighs. I tiptoe to his door, listening to the groans. It’s not coming from a computer or a phone.
Tristano is getting down with somemajorsolo action.
I can't see his face, but the sight of his hand coiled around his cock, stroking. Heat burns through my body. The sound muffles as though he remembers he’s not home alone.
I stare like a crazed peeping freak watching him stroke with hard jerks wishing it were me.
I gasp, afraid of my own thoughts. But I can’t pull my eyes away. Knowing that I want him sliding in and out of me.
I moan, and my nipples harden and poke against my cotton shirt. I bite down on my lower lip, fighting back the idea of opening the door and watching up close and personal. My panties are moist, and my breathing becomes shallow.
I’d give anything to be on the other side of the door.
I'm jealous of Tristano’s hand. He could be doing this with me instead of torturing both of us. Desperately horny, I set my hand on the door handle, about to open it.
"Stop, Aurora," I mutter and take my hand off the door handle. "You can't throw yourself at him like that."
But the door creaks and swings backward. Tristano hadn’t closed it properly.
I swallow as I get a glimpse at all of him.
Eyes closed. Lips parted.
His oily hands travel up and down his pink cock in the slowest, most sensual manner.
Who is he thinking about?
Could it be me...
Drops of sweat cover his bare chest, and his shorts hang at his thighs. He’s too dedicated to stroking himself that he doesn’t know the door is open or that I’m watching the little veins on his massive dick throb.
My heart thumps with guilt and a desire to take a step forward and join in the action.
Thoughts roam in my head. I think of him pinning me to the bed, kissing every inch of my body, taking me to the heights of pleasure. But I shouldn’t be here. He deserves privacy.
Before I can step away, his eyes snap open, and they zero in on me.
“Shit,” he mutters. A mix of surprise and embarrassment crosses his face.
“I’m sorry... I should have stayed in my room.”
Tristano lets go of his cock, and it dangles freely, stiff as a metal rod. He pulls his shorts up and covers his huge erection. His cock pokes against his shorts, demanding freedom. I release a disappointed sigh and take a step back.
“I hope this doesn’t cause any awkwardness between us.”
Tristano is off the bed, coming toward me with his wide, sweaty chest and his boner pointing straight at me.
I try to make my face casual, like this isn’t a big deal. But damn, seeing that cock has done something to me. I always wanted Tristano, but now, I’m obsessed with getting in bed with him. My mouth goes dry as I imagine riding him.
Tristano stands right in front of me, struggling to control his breathing. The room is crackling with sexual tension. My nipples press against my shirt so hard that Tristano stares at them, and he flicks his tongue over his lips.
