“I’ve never seen myself cum before.”
She was laying on her stomach, watching the laptop screen intently. Her moans sounded tinny and high-pitched over the speakers.
On the bed, she was still wearing her shirt, but nothing else. Her tousled blonde hair fell on either side of her face. He stood behind and slightly to her right. He glanced at the screen for a moment and watched as his cock slid in and out of her. Her disembodied fingers glided over her clit in fast, counter-clockwise circles. Her other hand reached down and pulled his hips in closer.
He looked down at the real her, at the soft clean curve of her hips.
“Fuck.”
She slid her right hand under herself and lifted her hips. Her fingertips peeked out a second later between her legs, probing and sliding.
He looked at the screen. He had pulled out and the screen was filled with confusing flashes of flesh and darkness as they repositioned. Her face came in to frame, flushed and excited. She pulled the camera closer. As soon as his cock sprang into the bottom of the frame, she grasped it and took it deep into her mouth. He heard himself over the speakers, making a dumb half-grunt, half-moan. She opened her eyes, his cock still in her mouth. She looked straight into the camera as she worked up and down his shaft. Her eyes grew smoky and the edge of her mouth tightened around his cock.
For the first time, she glanced up from the bed back at him. She smiled.
“I’m fucking dirty.”
She bit her bottom lip and turned back to the screen. She ground her hips down on her fingers and grabbed the sheets above her head with her left hand. Her breath came shallow and fast.
The camera was now positioned above and behind her. One of his disembodied hands held her left hand behind her back. Her head was buried in the same white sheets that she now grasped while watching. The camera shook as he pounded her. On the screen, the hand he held behind her back spread, spasmed, and clenched above her blue t-shirt. On the bed before him, she stretched, moaned and gasped. The tendons on her hands stood out, her knuckles whiter than the sheets she grasped.
She almost made it. She added her voice to her own from the speakers, but it was sharper and more urgent. She bit her lip savagely and drove her forehead into the bed, her screams now muffled by the sheets. Her hips bucked up once, twice, quick as lightning. She arched her back and screamed again into the bed. Over the speakers, her voice began to break. He remembered her soft wetness clenching impossibly tight around him.
After she finished, she opened her eyes and looked up at him under her now more-tousled hair. A strand of her hair clung to her forehead, anchored by sweat. She blew distractedly at the strand and smiled. He reached over her and shut the laptop.
In the darkness, her blue eyes crinkled around the edges as she suppressed a laugh.
“I guess I still haven’t.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/7mzxqk/last_dance_for_mary_jane_mf