The first time 4

I heard the door to my room close, then Loona walking away, and then nothing more. A cock twitched, and my thoughts raced. What had she just said? I was supposed to listen while she let someone else fuck her. While someone else drove his cock into her wet slit.

I swallowed. Admittedly, I had listened to her having sex before. That had been before we took our "relationship" to the next level and I had dared to open up to her. But that had always been on my own terms, and not like this. Naked, tied up, turned on, and helpless.

What was that? The second apartment door, probably. Was Loona really bringing someone home now to fuck him? Fuck, what made her do that, and why did the thought of it turn me on so much? What had I become?

Voices in the hallway. Then in her room. The door clicked softly shut.

I lay there, naked, bound, and blind. The blindfold sat tight. The world was black—but my ears worked perfectly. Only my own breath and the dull beat of my pulse still existed.

Then it started.

A quiet, rhythmic squeak. Wood on wood. The bed in her room. Slow at first. Then harder. More regular.

My cock jerked hard against my stomach. A hot thread of pre-cum dragged across my skin.

The squeaking grew louder. Faster. And in between—muffled, but unmistakable—her moaning. Deep. Drawn out.

Every thrust made the bed creak. Every thrust sent a new wave of heat through my body. I pictured him taking her. Her legs spread. Her wet slit swallowing him. Her breasts bouncing with every deep stroke.

I couldn't see anything. Couldn't understand anything. Only hear. The squeaking. Her moaning. Sometimes a lower panting that wasn't hers.

My cock throbbed painfully. The restraints cut into my wrists as I pulled at them without meaning to. All I could do was lie there and listen.

The pace picked up. The bed was squeaking almost constantly now. Her moans went higher, more broken. Then a long, sharp cry that carried even through the earplugs. She came.

Soon after, a deeper, panting sound. One last hard thrust. The bed groaned loudly once—and then silence.

Only my own breathing left. And the slow, dripping ache in my rock-hard cock.

I lay there and waited. Blind. Deaf. Wound tight. And I knew she would be coming soon.

Footsteps. The door to her room opened. Footsteps came closer. My bedroom door. I felt someone step inside.

A hand—slender, familiar—brushed over my chest. Then over my stomach. Then it closed around my hard cock and squeezed once, firmly.

"Good boy," Loona whispered right against my ear. "You heard everything, didn't you?"

I could only nod.

She climbed onto the bed. I felt her bare thighs as she settled over me—this time facing my cock. And then she lowered herself onto my mouth again.

This time it was different.

Her slit was hot. Swollen. And wet—not only with her own wetness. A thick, warm trickle seeped out of her, straight onto my tongue. The taste was salty, bitter, foreign. His cum. Mixed with her juices.

"Lick me clean," she ordered quietly. "All of it. Until there's nothing left."

I obeyed.

My tongue pushed deep into her, sucked, licked, swallowed. Every drop he had left inside her, I pulled out. She moaned softly while she took my cock into her mouth at the same time and sucked slowly. Not to let me come—only to keep me on the edge.

I obeyed.

My tongue pushed deep into her, sucked, licked, swallowed. Every drop he had left inside her, I pulled out.

But Loona wasn't satisfied with me just cleaning her. She shifted her weight and pressed her wet slit harder onto my face. Her hips started to move—slowly at first, then more demanding. She rode my face. Mercilessly.

Her thighs locked around my head. I could barely get any air. Every time I tried to turn my head aside, she pushed down harder. Her wetness covered my nose, my mouth, my cheeks. I could only breathe when she slid up for a moment—and even then only for a fraction of a second.

At the same time I felt her slender hand around my hard cock. She jerked me off. Firm. Rhythmic. At the same pace she rolled her hips over my face.

I moaned against her slit, which only spurred her on more. She went faster. Harder. Her moans grew louder, more broken. Her thighs trembled.

Then she came.

She pressed herself down on my mouth with her full weight, jerked hard, and let another rush of her wetness run over my tongue. I swallowed as best I could while she rode out her orgasm. The whole time, her hand never stopped stroking my cock.

When the waves ebbed, she stayed heavy on my face for another moment. I gasped under her, fighting for every breath. Then she lifted herself just enough for me to get air again—and sped up the movement of her hand.

"Come," was all she ordered.

It didn't take more than that. After all the waiting, the listening, the licking, and the lack of air, that one command was enough. My cock jerked hard in her fist. I groaned as the first load spilled hot across my stomach. Then the second. The third. She kept stroking me until nothing more came and I lay trembling beneath her.

Only then did she climb off me.

I heard the rustle of fabric. The quiet click of a bra. I heard the sound of her getting dressed again. Only once she was finished did I feel her undo the restraints at my wrists and ankles. The blindfold stayed a moment longer.

Then she pulled that away too.

The light blinded me. When I opened my eyes, Loona was already standing in front of me, dressed. Blouse, pants, everything back in place. Only her slightly flushed cheeks and the wet traces on my lips gave away what had just happened.

She smiled thinly.

"Well done," was all she said. Then she turned and left the room as if nothing had happened.

I lay there for a long time. Naked. With the cum on my stomach and the taste of her and the other man on my tongue.