«Edge of Jealousy and Desire

Rain pounded against the windows, filling Anna and Tim’s room with Silverton’s damp humidity. The light from the laptop on Tim’s lap bathed the space in a bluish glow, reflecting off the walls. Anna, fresh from the shower, sat on the bed, her damp hair smelling of vanilla cascading over her shoulders, a thin robe loosely tied, exposing a glimpse of her chest. Her green eyes sparkled with anxiety and bold excitement as she watched Tim prepare to play the recording of her stream with Mark. Her heart raced: she feared his jealousy, knowing her actions with Mark were betrayal, despite their agreement. But his words—“I want to know and see everything”—pushed her to tease, to play, to test his limits.

Tim sat beside her, his light hair, wet from the rain, falling over his forehead, his blue eyes darkened with tension. He clenched his jaw, his fingers nervously gripping the laptop. He felt jealousy **** him, but a dark desire to see Anna urged him to press “Play.” Noticing her robe revealing her skin, he swallowed, feeling heat in his groin.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly, her voice low, husky, balancing between fear and provocation. She bit her lip, knowing how it hooked him.

Tim nodded, his voice rasping:

“Let’s do it.” He pressed the button, and the screen came to life.

The recording began: Anna sits on the bed, alone, in a thin robe barely covering her body. The camera zooms in: her green eyes gleam, lips parted, she smiles at the lens, her movements slow, seductive. “Hey, boys,” she says playfully, with a husky edge. She leans toward the camera, the robe slipping off her shoulder, baring skin. The chat explodes: “Show your tits, babe!”, “Take it all off!” She laughs, her fingers slowly untying the robe’s belt, teasing. Her chest is almost visible, but she covers it with her hand, winking. “Want more? Pay up,” she says, the robe falls, revealing her body—breasts with hard nipples, flat stomach, white lace panties. Her fingers glide over her skin, rubbing through the panties, her breathing grows heavier, she moans: “Mmm… ah…” The chat fills up: “Finger yourself!”, “Show your pussy!” She smiles, her fingers slip under the fabric, but she freezes, reading a message—an invitation to a private session from FoxHunter69 for $2000. Her eyes widen, lips tremble, her voice shakes: “Okay… private… but it’s gonna be hot.”

Tim hit pause, the screen freezing on her face—lips parted, eyes full of fear and arousal. He turned to her, his breathing heavy, jeans tight, betraying his hardness.

“You just agreed like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse, laced with pain. “For money? With him?”

Anna swallowed, fear gripping her chest, but his arousal sparked something in her. She moved closer, her hand resting on his thigh, fingers squeezing, sliding toward his groin.

“You wanted to see,” she replied softly, her voice trembling but with a hint of challenge. “I was scared, but… it was for us. For the money.” Her lips nearly brushed his ear. “Are you sure you want to keep going?”

Tim clenched his teeth, his gaze darting to the screen, then to her hand creeping higher. Jealousy burned, but her closeness drove him wild. He nodded, his voice growling:

“I want to.” He pressed “Play,” his hand shaking.

The recording continued: Anna opens the private chat, her fingers trembling on the keyboard, enabling paid peeking at a high price. Mark appears, his figure filling the frame. He strips off his black t-shirt, revealing a muscular torso, a silver chain glinting on his neck. He approaches the bed, his voice predatory: “Let’s give them a show, star.” He tears off her robe, the camera capturing her naked body, her trembling, her breasts, her thighs. Mark straddles her chest, his knees pinning her ribs, he pulls down his boxers, his hard cock—long, thick, with a glistening tip—in the frame. He growls: “Open your mouth, little slut,” she obeys, her lips wrapping around him, she sucks, her eyes close, she moans: “Mmm… ah…”

Tim hit pause, his breathing ragged, face flushed, jeans stretched to the limit. He turned to Anna, grabbed her wrist, his fingers trembling.

“You were sucking him and moaning…” His voice was full of pain. “He called you a slut, and you… liked it?”

Anna felt fear, but his hardness spurred her on. She unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his cock—hard, hot, with a wet tip. Her fingers wrapped around it, squeezed at the base, moved slowly, her thumb rubbing the tip, gliding over the velvety skin, collecting precum.

“What if I did?” she whispered, her voice husky, eyes gleaming. “He was rough, commanding… Tim, sit like him.” Her fingers quickened, squeezing the tender skin, rubbing the tip. “I want you to fuck my mouth. Like he did.”

Tim exhaled: “Ugh… Anna!” His eyes blazed, he hesitated, but her words, her hand broke him. He stripped off his jeans. Anna lay on the bed, Tim above her like Mark, his knees on either side of her chest, his cock before her face. Anna leaned in, her lips grazed the tip, her tongue—wet, warm—licked, tasting the salty precum. Her tongue swirled over the head, teasing the frenulum, slid down the warm, velvety skin. She looked at him, her voice trembling:

“Call me… your slut, Tim.” Her lips enveloped him, she sucked the head, her tongue swirled, teasing the slit, lips tightened, slid down, taking him deeper. She moaned: “Mmm… Tim… ah…”—the vibrations rippled through his cock.

Tim exhaled: “Ugh… damn… Anna!” His hands grabbed her hair, but he froze. The word “slut” stuck. Instead, he said: “You’re mine… only mine!” His hips moved, his cock slid deeper, her lips stretched, she moaned: “Mmm… ah… Tim!” Her tongue licked the tender skin, feeling his heat, his pulse. She pulled back, her tongue slid to his balls, wet, warm, licked one, softly swirled, her lips sucked, tongue caressed the velvety skin, then the other, her moans: “Mmm… ah…” mingled with his: “Anna… damn!” Her hand gripped his cock, fingers rubbed the head, glided over the warm skin, her other hand caressed his balls, nails lightly scratching. Her lips returned to his balls, sucked one, tongue swirled, greedily, saliva dripped, mixing with his warmth, then licked the other, nails gently scratched, she moaned: “Mmm… Tim…”

She compared: Mark was rough, his cock long, curved, filling her mouth dominantly, movements sharp, skin musky, taste sharp. Tim was gentler, his cock thicker, warm, velvety skin, taste salty, familiar. Mark growled “slut” with lust, Tim couldn’t—his love held him back, touching her. She pulled back, her lips glistening, her hand stroking him, fingers squeezing, rubbing the head.

“Tim…” she exhaled, her voice trembling, eyes shining. “You don’t say ‘slut’ because you love me. Mark… he just wants to fuck me. With him, it’s animalistic sex, no morals, no shame.” Her hand quickened, fingers squeezed, rubbed his warm skin, nails scratched his balls. “I wasn’t shy… With you, it’s tender, loving… With him, it’s rough, hard… and it… turns me on. But I only love you.”

Tim exhaled: “Ugh… ah… Anna!” His hips jerked, her words, her hand pushing him to the edge. He pressed “Play,” the recording continued: Mark slaps his cock on her tongue, smears precum, growls: “Show them you love my cock.” She moans: “Mmm… ah…”—takes him deeper, her tongue licks his balls, movements passionate. Mark fingers her pussy, her thighs tremble, orgasm hits, her moans: “Ah… ooo!” He cums on her face, streams on her cheeks, lips, chin, she licks the drops, smiles boldly.

Anna quickened her rhythm, her hand slid over his cock, squeezed, rubbed the head, fingers caressed the warm skin, her other hand gripped his balls, tugged, scratched. She leaned in, her lips enveloped him, sucked greedily, her tongue swirled over the head, glided over the tender skin, took him deeper, her throat tightened, she moaned: “Mmm… ah… Tim!” Saliva dripped, mixing with precum. She pulled back, her tongue licked his balls, lips sucked one, tongue swirled, greedily, then the other, her moans: “Mmm… ah…” His moans—“Ugh… Anna… ah… damn!”—louder. Her lips returned to his cock, clamped the head, tongue rubbed the frenulum, sucked, saliva dripped, her hand rubbed the base, fingers squeezed his balls. His hands gripped her hair, he fucked her mouth, movements sharper, but softer than Mark’s. His skin burned, cock pulsed.

“You’re mine… only mine!” he exhaled, his eyes blazing.

She pulled back, her lips glistening, her hand moved fast, fingers squeezed, rubbed the head, caressed the tender skin, her other hand scratched his balls. She looked at him, her voice husky, ****:

“Tim… does this mean we keep going?” Her eyes shone, fear and guilt battling desire. “I did it for you… for us… but I want it… with the camera… with Mark…” Anna smiled, “…and with Kira. It turns me on… but always remember, I only love you.” Her hand sped up, fingers squeezed, rubbed the head, nails scratched his balls.

Tim exhaled: “Ugh… ah… Anna!” His body shuddered, he came, hot streams shot out, hitting her hand, robe, chest, dripping down her skin. He breathed heavily, his eyes burned with passion, love. He pulled her close, his lips found hers, the kiss fierce, warm. He pulled back, his voice hoarse:

“We’re not done, Anna… I want to see you… with him… with Kira…” His eyes gleamed, jealousy, desire, a promise to hold her.

Anna pressed against him, her heart pounding, fear fading, replaced by warmth. The recording ended, silence broken only by the rain. They were together, giving her strength to move forward.