Inverted condom

John knelt between Claire’s thighs, trembling, still dizzy from the way she had dangled the used condom between her fingers — playful, wicked, untouchable.

Claire smiled lazily at him, her bare legs spread wide, her short black dress bunched around her waist.

The condom swung lazily between her fingers, filled with the heavy warmth of another man’s seed.

John couldn’t look away.

He didn’t even try.

Claire leaned back against the couch cushions, lifting the condom higher, studying it with a slow, exaggerated curiosity — as if pondering some great and terrible mystery.

John whimpered softly, his caged cock leaking helplessly, straining against the tight steel.

Finally, Claire glanced down at him, smiling that dangerous, lazy smile.

“You still want me, baby?” she purred.

John nodded frantically, heart pounding so loud it roared in his ears.

Claire giggled softly.

“Good,” she murmured. “Because I want you too.”

John shuddered, ****, confused, utterly owned.

Claire sighed theatrically, twirling the condom once around her finger.

“But how, baby?” she teased. “No condom… no lube… and I’m so wet already, but not enough for a rough little fuck like you.”

John whimpered again, sinking lower to the floor in front of her.

Claire smiled wider, almost pitying.

“You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” she cooed.

“No,” John gasped immediately.

Claire laughed, tossing her hair back.

“So…” she mused, tapping the condom lightly against her thigh, “what should we use?”

John blinked up at her, heart thudding.

“Maybe…” he whispered helplessly, “maybe… not flip it over?”

Claire tilted her head, pretending to think.

“Mmm,” she mused, dragging out the sound.

John swallowed hard, trembling.

Claire smiled wider — that wicked, dangerous smile he was learning to fear and crave.

“No, baby,” she whispered.

“I need a good lubricant tonight.”

She grinned and, with slow, dramatic care, began to invert the condom — flipping it inside out, careful not to spill any of the thick, sticky contents.

John gasped softly as he watched, helpless.

The stranger’s cum now gleamed wetly across the outside of the condom, thick and heavy.

Claire pinched the rim between her fingers and slid it easily into her hand — like a second skin — the slick stranger’s seed covering her palm, dripping slightly between her fingers.

She rubbed it between her hands lazily, spreading it like lotion, humming under her breath.

John could only watch, cock jerking violently against the steel.

Claire smiled and reached down between her thighs, her slick fingers trailing over her bare pussy.

She moaned low in her throat as she rubbed the stranger’s seed into herself, slow and sensual, grinding her hips lazily against her hand.

“That’s better,” she purred, winking down at him.

John whimpered, his whole body trembling.

Claire slid her hand lower, coating her folds, massaging herself in slow circles.

“Nice and slippery now,” she murmured, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

She looked down at him again, her smile soft and wicked.

“Come here, baby.”

John crawled forward on trembling hands and knees.

Claire grabbed him by the hair, pulling him up roughly between her thighs.

She kissed him — deep, wet, messy — tasting of wine and wickedness.

Then she shifted, straddling his hips easily, grinding her soaked pussy against his stomach.

John gasped, the heat of her making him dizzy.

Claire leaned close, whispering against his ear.

“You’re going to fuck me now, baby,” she purred.

John whimpered, confused, ****.

“But… but…” he stammered.

Claire laughed softly.

“No condom,” she whispered.

“Only this.”

She ground against him again, making his caged cock throb uselessly.

John blinked up at her, heart pounding.

“But… the cum…” he whispered, almost not daring to say it.

Claire smiled, slow and wicked.

“I know,” she whispered sweetly.

“That’s the point.”

John gasped, his hands trembling.

“You’re going to fuck me,” Claire murmured, grinding harder.

“Lubed with another man’s seed.”

John sobbed softly, overwhelmed.

Claire kissed him again — deep, claiming, dangerous.

“And maybe,” she whispered against his lips, “maybe you’ll even get me pregnant.”

John’s world spun wildly.

He whimpered, leaking helplessly, completely broken.

Claire sat back, reaching down to guide his caged cock against her slick entrance.

She moaned low in her throat as the tip slid against her folds, the stranger’s cum making everything messy, wet, filthy.

She rocked her hips slowly, using him like a toy, grinding against his trapped shaft, laughing softly at his **** moans.

“Poor thing,” she teased.

“Can’t even feel it properly.”

John sobbed again, his hands gripping her hips helplessly.

Claire laughed and ground harder, faster.

“You’ll cum anyway,” she whispered.

“Because you’re mine.”

John gasped, hips jerking helplessly under her.

Claire leaned down, whispering against his ear.

“Cum for me, baby,” she purred.

“Cum for me while you fill me with another man’s seed.”

John cried out — a broken, **** sound — and his body obeyed.

He shuddered violently under her, hips bucking, leaking helplessly into the cage.

Claire moaned low and deep, grinding herself down harder, smearing the stranger’s cum deeper inside herself.

She rode out his helpless, useless orgasm, laughing softly, stroking his hair.

When he finally sagged back against the couch, trembling, spent, broken, Claire kissed his forehead tenderly.

“Good boy,” she whispered.

She sat back, stroking her still-glossy pussy lazily.

“Maybe,” she murmured, half to herself, “that’ll be enough to make me grow.”

John whimpered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Claire smiled — wicked, loving, dangerous.

“And if it’s not,” she whispered, “we’ll just have to try again.”