Confessions

“Oh god!” I whispered, watching, almost forgetting about the guy on my other side, his cock pulsing in my other hand. He whimpered, pulling my attention, and I stroked, fast and hard, breathless with my own pleasure as I rubbed my clit back and forth against the seam of my jeans, my face flushed with lust.

“Yeah, make me come!” He already was, the other guy now, filling my other hand with heat. I rubbed the head, making him moan and thrust, his hand clamping down on my breast as he came, my nipple caught between his finger and thumb. That stimulation was just enough to send me over, too, and I shuddered between them, biting my lip to hide my orgasm, ashamed and lost and surrendering all at once.

They both found me napkins to clean up with, shoved into the pockets in the side of the door, and by the time my friend and her boyfriend got back into the car, any evidence of what we’d done was gone-except the flush of my cheeks at the memory.