Catherine

The door opened without a knock.

Catherine walked in like she’d done it a hundred times before.

She was about Alice’s age — maybe nineteen — with lighter hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a casual summer dress that showed off long legs. She had a small bag slung over one shoulder and a half-empty bottle of something in her hand. She took two steps inside the caravan, let the door swing shut behind her, and stopped.

Her eyes moved over the scene without any visible shock.

Alice was still completely bottomless, straddling me. Her thick, bare thighs were spread wide over my lap. My cock was out, trapped between her slick pussy lips, the head resting right against her clit. She hadn’t moved an inch when the door opened. If anything, she’d settled her weight down a little more firmly, like she was making sure nothing was hidden.

Catherine’s gaze flicked from Alice’s bare ass, to where we were pressed together, to my face, then back to Alice. She didn’t even blink.

“Hey,” she said, like this was the most normal thing in the world. “You said the door was unlocked.”

Alice’s voice was calm. A little breathless, but calm.

“Yeah. Come in.”

Catherine walked over to the small couch like she owned the place, dropped her bag, and sat down. She set the bottle on the little table and finally looked at us properly again. There was a tiny smirk at the corner of her mouth, but no surprise. No awkwardness. Just… acceptance.

“So this is Chris,” she said.

Alice gave a small roll of her hips — the tiniest movement — and I felt her wet heat slide along the length of my cock again. She was still soaked. Still bare. Still sitting on me like Catherine wasn’t even there.

“This is him,” Alice answered. Her hands stayed on my chest, steadying herself. One of her heavy tits was still out, nipple tight. She made no move to cover it.

Catherine leaned back on the couch, crossing her legs. She looked comfortable. Relaxed. Like walking in on her friend riding a guy bare was just another Tuesday.

“Nice to finally meet you,” she said to me, casual as anything. “Alice has been talking about you for days. I was starting to think she made you up.”

I had no idea what to say. My hands were still on Alice’s thick hips. I could feel her heartbeat through her skin. My cock was throbbing against her bare pussy, and she was doing nothing to hide it. If anything, the way she was sitting made it even more obvious — her plush ass spread, her thighs open, everything on display.

Alice glanced over her shoulder at Catherine, then back down at me. Her green eyes were dark and steady.

“She’s cool,” Alice said quietly, like that explained everything. “She already knew I was meeting you today.”

Catherine picked up the bottle and took a sip, watching us over the rim.

“Don’t mind me,” she said. “You two were in the middle of something. I can wait.”

She didn’t look away.

Alice’s pussy gave another slow, deliberate slide along my cock. She was still facing me, still straddling me, still completely bottomless with her friend sitting six feet away watching like it was a show she’d already bought tickets for.

The air in the caravan felt electric.

Catherine tilted her head slightly, eyes moving over Alice’s body — the curve of her bare ass, the way her thick thighs gripped my hips, the shine of wetness where we were pressed together.

“So…” Catherine said, voice light. “You gonna keep going, or are you two just gonna sit there looking pretty?”

Alice’s fingers tightened on my chest. She didn’t get off me.

She just looked at me, waiting.