They get home

“Do you really want to know what I saw that night on the couch?” she asked, her breath warm against his mouth.

His answer was a ragged nod. “Yes.”

Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “I saw you on the couch- my couch, with your hand wrapped around yourself. I saw exactly how big you are. I heard that bimbo you brought home say it, but seeing it… Fuck, it wasn’t exaggeration just to make you feel good, was it?” Her lips brushed his again. “It was all real.”

His hands tightened at her waist. “Nat-”

“I watched you stroke it,” she went on, unhurried, like she was letting him picture it the way she saw it. “You were well on your way, by the time I saw you. Your strokes were incredibly steady. I watched you get so hard- it looked thick, even in your hand. Then I watched you finish.” She swallowed, pulse knocking at her throat, giving little kisses between her sentences. “There was so much. God, it made me cum right there, leaning against the wall, as you made a mess all over yourself.”

A sound broke out of him, subtle and helpless. His fingers slid down her thighs, palms spreading as if to feel every inch of her he could at one time. He edged to slip one hand beneath her dress.

She caught his wrist and held it there. “No,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “Hands stay outside.”

He stilled, breath shaking. “Okay.”

“Good.” She guided his palm back to her thigh over her dress, signaling that area was safe, the warmth sinking into her. With her other hand, she reached for his belt and worked the buckle loose, followed by his button, then the zipper. All of it done with a kind of careful decisiveness that made his chest begin to heave. She slipped her hand inside the waistband and found him, hot and slick, already leaking for her.

“Oh, hello,” she sighed, honest awe coloring the word. “There you are.”

His forehead tipped to hers. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” she cutoff, and drew him out into the cool kitchen air.

He was fat in her fist, as thick as she imagined after what she saw that night, and the weight of him settled into her palm like it belonged there. Her fingers couldn’t close all the way around, just as she’d expected. She gave him one slow stroke from base to head and watched his jaw lock, the muscle jumping as he fought to keep still. When her hand slid back down, pressing toward his balls until she held them, his length extended part well up her forearm, as she fondled the substantial orbs in his sack.

“Yeah,” she murmured, approval threaded through it. “This is exactly what I saw.”

Her thumb swept over the slick at the tip on the next upstroke; he twitched in her hand. She lifted her eyes and held his. “The way that girl said it,” Natalie started again, voice soft enough to be wicked, “-‘how are you this big?’ -I thought she was putting on a show at first.” A tiny smile crossed her lips. “Clearly she wasn’t, was she big boy?”

He shook his head helplessly.

“No, she didn’t.” She spit lightly into her palm, then worked it down his length, the glide now smooth and obscene. “Longer than both my hands,” she said, testing it, one hand sliding up, the other joining it for a warm, wet double-grip that made his eyes go dark. “And thick. You could absolutely hurt someone with this thing, if you weren’t careful.”

He made another sound from deep in his throat. His hands started to move on her thighs, testing just how far “hands outside” allowed him to go. He started slowly and let her work.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” she murmured, and set a rhythm that was worse for him because it was patient. It was long pulls, applying pressure at the base, then a twist of her wrist at the crown that made his breath break and stutter against her cheek.

“I can’t- ” he started, and then lost the rest.

“Can’t what?” she teased, pumping him again, slower, meaner. “Can’t last? Or can’t believe I watched?”

“Both,” he managed, with a ragged chuckle.

“Baby, I watched all of it,” she confessed, stroking harder now. “I watched your stomach jump when you were right there. I watched it pulse in your hand.” She squeezed. “And when you came, God, Aiden, it shot so high it hit your chest. I swear I could hear it.” Her mouth brushed his ear. “I came with you.”

His hips jerked, a small betrayed thrust into her fist. She answered by tightening her calves around the backs of his thighs, holding him exactly where she wanted him. It was close enough to feel his heat against her thighs.

One hand gripped at the top of her leg, while the other started to work toward her center. She didn’t fight him, only warned.

“Hands stay outside,” she reminded softly, while internally cursing the timing of their encounter, when his fingers twitched near their target. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

He nodded, eyes shut now, with the tendons in his neck standing out. She sped up a fraction, then stopped just long enough to draw her thumb across his slit, collecting more precum, and set back in with a rhythm that had a clear intention. His breath turned into these punched-out pieces of her name that made her feel reckless and powerful and very, very alive.

“Look at me,” she said.

His eyes stayed locked on hers, groaning, as her hand worked him over, slowly, knowing just where to apply pressure along the underside of his shaft, as she reached the head. Natalie felt the way his hips jerked into her fist, the need ratcheting higher, his self-control fraying.

“Tell me what you heard that night,” she said, voice low, measured.

He blinked, trying to comprehend what she was asking through the pleasure. “What?”

She didn’t stop, her grip tightening, thumb dragging slick across the head. “When Lisa and I were in my room. The night you moved in. I want to hear exactly what you heard.”

Aiden’s breath stuttered. “You… you must’ve been kissing. Laughing at first. Then it got quiet. Then-” He bit back a moan, his eyes threatening to roll back.

“’Then’ what?” she pressed, her rhythm never faltering.

“You were moaning. I could hear her voice… and yours. You-” He shuddered, hips jolting. “You said her name.”

She squeezed him at that, applying a focused pressure to the underside of his shaft. “And what did you do when you heard it?”

He swallowed, shame and need colliding. “I started to jack off.”

“Yeah, you did,” she murmured through a growing smile, her lips finding the edge of his jaw, her breath tangled in his hair. “And what else did you hear?”

He bit his lip, almost too shy, but the words came regardless. “I heard… you asked her to play with your ass.”

She smiled, slow and wicked. “And does that bother you?”

He shook his head, groaning. “Fuck, no. It was so hot.”

His knees trembled. Natalie slowed, drawing a soft whimper from him. Then she leaned in, velvet-voiced, “You’re close, aren’t you?”

He nodded, eyes squeezed shut. “So close.”

She nipped his chin, still stroking him. “Good. Because I want you to remember this.”

One of her hands slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently as her grip on his shaft got firmer, faster. “When I heard you with that girl that night - when you brought her home without asking - I had to just lay there, listening to all of it.” Her breath warmed his ear. “She was loud, but you… you were all I could think about. Even while I was texting Matt, all I could hear was you.”

Aiden moaned, helpless. “Nat…”

She squeezed harder. “And when I had to listen to that little twit orgasm, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About your hands on me instead of her. Where you’d put your fingers. How you’d spank me.” She kissed along his jaw. “I came so hard all over my toy, thinking about you.”

She could feel his balls starting to pull up higher as she continued.

“And when I went to Matt’s that night you saw me leaving, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I made him fuck me the way I imagined you did with that girl. Wishing it was your hand coming down to smack my ass. Your body slamming into mine. God, I wanted it to be you. I made him tear my lingerie off in my need for him to spank me like you did her.”

“Fucking Christ Nat, you can’t tell me that,” he whimpered.

Her hand didn’t stop. Her other hand squeezed his balls, then slid up to join the first, double-gripping him, twisting, stroking, her gaze burning into him. “You know that night you rubbed my feet?”

He gasped. “Yeah- God, yeah-”

“I knew what you were doing. You might’ve thought I didn’t notice right away, but I could feel your eyes up my shorts the whole time.” Her pace quickened; his knees nearly gave.

She kissed him, wet and open-mouthed. “I knew how much of my ass was showing while I laid on my side, when you first came in. I went to my room after everything, soaking wet. You barely touched me, and I couldn’t think straight. Your hands on my feet felt so fucking good.”

Her grip was relentless now. “I touched myself, thinking, what if you didn’t stop? What if your hands drifted all the way up my legs?”

He choked, desperate, “Please- Natalie, I-”

She kissed him hard, and when she broke to look at him, she moved so her lips could brush his ear. “Do it again, Aiden,” she whispered. “Right here on the kitchen counter. Cum for me. On me- Let me feel it this time.”

That was all it took. His hands clenched bringing her attention to the one pressed against her panties through her dress, desperate for something to hold. His hips jerked forward, lacking any rhythm, and Natalie felt him pulse in her hands, thick and hot.

“Mmm,” she hummed, licking her lips at his ear. “I told Lisa I’d take care of her baby, didn’t I?” She continued stroking him through it, never letting up.

He let out a strangled moan as he came in a messy, wet, uncontrollable gush.

Her hand worked him through every spasm. The first drops spattered across her wrist, then more as she adjusted her angle, thick ropes streaking her fingers, her forearm, catching her dress and dripping onto the floor.

“It’s so hot on my skin. I love it,” she breathed, still stroking, watching his face as he rode it out.

“Such a dirty boy,” she teased, a grin pulling at her lips. “Making a mess of my kitchen like this… Now I’ll have to get on my knees and clean it up.” She could feel it seeping through her dress and warming her thighs momentarily before it cooled in the conditioned air.

He groaned again, gnashing his teeth together, and pressing his forehead to hers, as he tried to catch his breath.

“That’s it,” she whispered, finally slowing her strokes at last. “Give it all to me sweetie. Every drop.”

After a few last passes, she let him go, feeling his whole body shudder against her grip, his hands braced hard on the island. His breath came rough and uneven, as color bloomed across his skin.

Natalie smirked, letting the moment hang. She wiped her hand and wrist on the hem of her dress, the fabric already half soaked in his cum. Then she pressed her palm to his chest and gave him a gentle push; he stumbled back, catching himself against the opposite counter with wide eyes, still dazed.

Natalie smirked, grabbing a towel from the counter. Dropping to all four, she wiped the floor, looking up at him.

“Does seeing me on my knees wiping up your cum make you feel good about yourself?” she asked, clearly not upset, but responding to the look of shock still on his face.

He didn’t know the correct answer, so instead he stayed quiet. And when she was satisfied she got it all, she rose and stepped to the sink. She washed her forearm properly, fingers lingering under the cool water, and glancing over her shoulder at him where he was still panting. He was zipped up but red-faced, unable to look away from her.

She smiled at him with fire in her eyes, carefully grabbing the towel, so she didn’t get more on herself after cleaning, intending to take and throw it in the laundry basket. “You okay?” she asked, warmly, with only a trace of the teasing left in her voice.

He could only nod, swallowing hard, his whole body humming with aftershocks.

She crossed back to him, kissed him once, soft and quick, with just a hint of mischief. “Next time, maybe I’ll let you finish where you want.”

He made a sound that was almost a laugh, almost a prayer, and leaned back on the counter, finally steadying himself as she disappeared down the hall. The exaggerated sway of her hips holding her attention, and her dress marked by what they’d just done.

Next time… he thought, reveling in the idea this wasn’t just a one-time thing.

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