Liam

I was still on the balcony—top down, tits out, the night air clinging to the sweat and spit and streaks of cum drying on my chest. My tank top hung uselessly around my elbows. I hadn’t pulled it up since the first guy. The camera was still rolling—held steady by the quiet, hooded voyeur in the corner. He didn’t say a word. Just watched. And stroked.

The door slid open again.

I didn’t even look—until I heard a familiar voice stop short.

“…K?”

I turned. And there he was.

Liam.

We’d already talked inside earlier—long-overdue catching up, the usual small talk. We’d hugged. Laughed. He’d looked good. I remember thinking that.

But now he looked stunned.

His eyes dragged across the balcony—my tits, soaked and jiggling; the guy filming in the corner.

“I—uh,” he stammered, stepping out. “I didn’t think it’d be you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The words getting around?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, still taking it all in.

“Some guys inside were whispering about… I don’t know, someone giving out titfucks on the balcony. I thought they were just being drunk assholes. I came to see if it was real.” His voice dropped. “Didn’t expect it to be you.”

I smirked. “Surpriiiise.”

He blinked. Laughed. Shook his head staring at my tits.

“Jesus. You’ve really changed.”

I gestured at my chest. “You mean these?”

He looked. Really looked. Then let out a low, disbelieving whistle.

“I remember when you used to complain about your Gs in gym class.”

“And now they’ve graduated: 34K.”

“So that's why they call you K nowadays?”

I grinned. “We have a winner.”

He stepped closer, still dazed. "I had such a crush on you. You knew that, right?”

I nodded. “That’s why I never let it happen. Didn’t want to fuck up our friendship.”

“And now here we are,” he muttered, looking down at the mess across my chest. “Fuck.”

His zipper was already half down. He didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“You sure?” I asked, but already lifting my tits. “I know that's what you wanted back then.”

He chuckled—breathless. “Back then? K, I still jerk off to you. I’ve compared every girl I’ve touched to these tits.”

I squeezed them together slowly. “Well. Go ahead. Get your closure.”

He stepped in and slid his cock between them. He didn’t thrust right away. He just stood there for a second, staring down, like his whole high school fantasy had taken form.

“I used to imagine this in math class,” he murmured. “You and me… just like this.”

“You were always staring,” I said, rocking my body gently as his cock disappeared between the soft weight of my tits. “I knew exactly what you were thinking.”

He started thrusting. Slow at first, then a little harder. My tits squeezed around him with every stroke, soft and obscene, still coated in other men’s cum. The guy in the corner zoomed in without a word.

“I missed you,” I panted.

“I missed you too,” Liam whispered. “But I really needed this.”

He laughed and came.

He groaned hard, hips twitching, cock pulsing between my tits as he painted my chest with thick, hot streaks. A few ropes splashed up to my throat. He groaned again, breath shaking—and then, without a word, reached out, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and pulled it forward.

I blinked. “Hey—”

He wiped the head of his cock off roughly in it, dragging through my strands like he was cleaning a brush. It tugged a little harder than he probably meant to.

I winced. Then grinned. “Still the sweet one, I see.”

He laughed, breathless. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

I tilted my head. “I do.”

He looked at me—really looked, like he was trying to put it all together. Then nodded.