Stalking along the hall in a cloud of perfume and powder, my fiancé jiggled her boobs a little further out of her already perilously low-cut top. She patted the dog on the head, handed her best friend a couple of notes to pay the taxi driver, then blew me a kiss.
The front door slammed on their excited chatter, and then there was silence. I waited a few beats to see if they’d forgotten anything. One or the other usually did, be it keys, a mobile phone, a lip gloss. After almost three minutes I knew they’d gone, and they wouldn’t be back until well after midnight.
Aah, time to myself at last!
We’d had our houseguest for more than three weeks, now. I didn’t mind her being here. God knows I was pleased she’d finally walked away from the prick she’d been living with, but I missed my privacy. Whenever Christy wasn’t home it seemed like Jen was, and I never got time to just be me. To do the things I liked to do.
But now I was home alone, and I could do whatever the fuck I liked. Racing up the stairs, I thought of all the stuff I could do. I’d get to watch the football in the nude, drink beer from the bottle, and eat snacks straight from the bag like some kinda bipedal horse. First thing on the agenda, though?
As soon as my finger pressed down on the laptop’s ON button, I heard a sound that turned my cock from a floppy little hamster that nestled between my balls to a semi-thick rope that dangled down my thigh and peeked out from behind the hem of my shorts. I was a grower, not a shower.
The sound I’d heard was just the laptop fan kicking in. That’s how long it had been since I’d last had a chance to sit and indulge myself. Christy had banned sex in some kind of weird sisterly solidarity agreement with Jen, so I hadn’t dared have as much as a sneaky wank in the shower, never mind a full on masturbation session to my favourite video.
While I waited for the page to load, I hunted out Christy’s lube then stripped naked. All of the hairs on my body stood on end when the air hit my skin. It wasn’t cold in the room, though. The en suite door was open and the heat from the shower and towel rail warmed the place up.
No, it was anticipation. The scent of Christy’s body sprays, hair sprays and perfume hung heavy in the air, and to my delight, her dirty underwear was on my computer chair. I picked them up, lay the bra just to the left of the laptop and took a long, lazy hit of the damp cotton gusset of the knickers.
I draped them over the back of my chair, and no sooner had my ass hit the seat than was my cock springing up and slapping off my belly. The scent of Christy’s cunt was probably my favourite smell on earth. And now, playing out on the screen and coming through the surround sound speakers, was my favourite porn video.
It wasn’t what anyone would expect of me. I was the type of guy who was vocal about his love for tits and pussy, and I freely admitted that the fantasy that drove me the hardest was covering Christy’s tits and pussy in oil and watching her rub them all over Jen’s.
But this porn video wasn’t anything like that. Not even close.
There was a lone guy in it and not one woman in sight. He was toned and tanned, lying on his back with his knees pulled up while he stroked his cock.
My cock was in my hand now, my eyes fixed on the screen. God, the sounds he was making! Slapping skin, shaky breaths, random little oofs and uuhs and the odd whispered oh fuck.
Stroking slowly, I watched his hand cup his balls, playing with them, jiggling them, pulling them away from his body. I wasn’t touching mine, though. They were too sensitive for that. No, I was touching something completely different. Further up my body, but still hidden by a scattering of dark hair.
My finger pressed firmly into my belly button, and that first contact drew a soft moan from the back of my throat. I pressed harder, circled my finger in the exact same way I did whenever I played with Christy’s clit. Touching myself there had always felt good. It tickled. It made my balls tighten and filled my groin with the same sensation I got whenever I desperately needed to take a piss.
The guy on the screen was curling his back again. His long, hairy legs were moving over his head until his knees were somewhere around his ears. I curled my hips up in response, crying out when my cock throbbed and pushed out a massive bead of pre-cum. Scooping it up with a finger, I let it drip into my belly button. Spasms in my ass could only mean one thing.
I was as close to orgasm as my over watched porny friend was.
That pleased me no end. I’d learned to time my orgasm with his long ago, loving to hear him growling along with me as we both came on our targets. I had worried that leaving it as long as I’d had to would result in me shooting my load before he was ready, but it looked like I was on schedule.
Holding my cock still, I put its length to use. One thumb pushed firmly against one side, I curved it until it was pointing right at my abdomen. As my wanking buddy started to grunt under his breath, I jammed two fingers into my belly button, feeling zaps of pressure zing straight to my ass.
Twitching, panting, thrusting my hips…
Just as the guy on the screen reached his perfect position, I reached mine. My eyes were as wide as his mouth. I held my breath, watching him jiggle his hand just beneath the shiny head of his cock. Pushing the very tip of my cock into my belly button, I did the same.
Oh, the noises we made!
Our cries reached a crescendo, and then suddenly there was silence. I whimpered, watching that big dick pour ribbons of white straight into that waiting mouth. A second later, my eyes were on my belly, watching my own cock pump squirt after squirt of fluid into the little cavity that had long been my most erogenous zone. It spilled out, some getting caught in the surrounding hairs, some trickling down my belly to travel around the base of my cock and drip off my balls.
I stayed where I was, satisfied but knowing I would need more in about ten minutes or so. It wouldn’t be the same video I wanked over next, though. My eyes drifted to Christy’s bra, just as my head tilted to the side so I could breathe in the scent of her knickers. I’d left them there, on the back of the chair, for a reason.
The next video I watched? Christy would be in it, and so would I. We’d made it just before Jen had come to stay, and this would be the first time I watched it. I laughed, grabbing Christy’s bra and mopping up the mess I’d made of myself. If I’d come this hard watching an amateur porn star drink his own cum, just imagine how hard I was going to come watching my fiancé squirt in my belly button…