His Best Friends Dick Too (2)

Chapter Two

(Jake’s POV)

“Fuck…”

The word left me as a rough groan. My fist was wrapped tight around my cock, stroking hard and fast. I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

Alex’s cock buried deep inside her. The way it looked sliding out, thick, shiny, covered in her cream. That pretty pink pussy stretched wide around him. Her ass up in the air, back arched, face flushed red from getting fucked so hard. Perfect. Fucking perfect.

I stroked faster, thumb smearing the precum over the head. My balls were already tight. I could feel the orgasm building, heavy and close. All I needed was a few more seconds…

The door opened.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

Zara slipped inside and quietly shut the door behind her. She was wearing a short silk dress that barely reached the tops of her thighs. The thin material clung to her body, showing the full outline of her tits and the hard points of her nipples. Her face was still flushed. Freshly fucked. Hair messy. Lips a little swollen.

Her eyes dropped straight to my cock.

I had it out in the open, fist still wrapped tight around the thick shaft, veins standing out. I didn’t try to cover up. Lust burned in her eyes as she stared.

“Where’s Alex?” I asked, voice rough.

“He’s sleeping.”

We locked eyes. I didn’t feel a single ounce of shame. If anything, the way she looked at me made my cock swell even harder in my hand. I gave it a slow stroke, just to see what she would do.

She watched every movement.

“It looks very hard,” she said softly. “And painful.”

“It is.”

Her tongue flicked across her bottom lip. “I could help.”

My blood spiked so hard I almost came right there.

Zara looked around the room, eyes landing on the empty beer bottle sitting on the nightstand. She walked over, picked it up, and then, without another word, lowered herself to the floor right in front of me. She leaned back on one hand, spread her legs wide, and pulled the silk dress up to her waist.

No panties.

Her pussy was still glistening, puffy and wet from everything Alex had done to her earlier. The sight of it made my fist tighten.

“Don’t stop,” she ordered quietly. “Keep stroking that cock.”

I obeyed.

She pressed the cold mouth of the bottle against her pussy and rubbed it slowly through her wetness, coating the glass. Then, eyes locked on mine, she started to push it inside. Inch by inch. Her mouth fell open as the thick neck of the bottle stretched her open. She fucked herself with it in slow, deep strokes, the wet sound of it filling the quiet room.

I jerked my cock harder, matching her rhythm. The sight of her, legs spread on my floor, fucking herself with a beer bottle while she watched me stroke, was filthy. Perfect.

“Just like that,” she whispered, voice shaky. “Get that cock ready for me… fuck.”

She pushed the bottle deeper and started moving her hips, chasing her own pleasure. Her free hand slid up to squeeze her tit through the silk. I could see how close she was already.

My orgasm crashed into me first.

I groaned through my teeth as thick ropes of cum shot across my fist and stomach. I kept stroking through it, eyes locked on her pussy stretching around the glass. The sight dragged her over the edge with me. Zara’s back arched, a broken moan leaving her throat as she came hard, thighs shaking, the bottle still buried inside her while she pulsed around it.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was both of us trying to catch our breath.

She slowly pulled the bottle out. It was shiny with her cum.

Then she looked up at me, eyes dark, still breathing hard.

Neither of us said a word.

But we both knew this wasn’t going to stop here.

—————

Morning light was already coming through the blinds when I sat down at the dining table with my phone. Alex was in the kitchen, moving around like nothing had happened the night before. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the apartment.

We talked about stupid shit. The weather. Some match that was supposed to be on later. Neither of us mentioned the fact that I’d walked in on him fucking his girlfriend, or that she’d come into the guest room afterward and gotten herself off in front of me with a beer bottle.

The silence around those things felt heavier than anything we actually said.

Then Zara walked in.

She was wearing a short silk nightgown, the kind that barely qualified as clothing. The front was tied so low that the inner curves of both tits were fully on display, soft and full. Every step made the silk shift against her skin. My mouth went dry.

She walked straight up to Alex and rose onto her toes to kiss him.

“Morning,” she murmured.

Alex’s hand slid up and squeezed one of her breasts right there in the open kitchen, thumb brushing over the nipple until it hardened under the thin fabric. I sucked in a quiet breath and looked back down at my phone, jaw tight.

“You sleep okay?” he asked her, voice still rough from the morning.

“Better after last night,” she said, just loud enough. There was a little smirk in her voice. “You fucked me so deep I can still feel it.”

Alex let out a low chuckle and slapped her ass when she turned to walk toward the table. The sound was sharp and loud. The vibration of it went straight to my cock.

Zara dropped into the chair right beside me, the silk riding up her thighs. She muttered a soft “morning” in my direction without really looking at me, then started scrolling on her phone like this was any other day.

I tried to do the same.

It didn’t work.

Every time I blinked I saw her from last night, legs spread on the guest room floor, that bottle stretching her pink pussy open, the way she’d moaned when she came. The wet sound of it. The look in her eyes while she watched me stroke my cock.

My dick was already hard, pressing uncomfortably against my shorts. I reached down to adjust it.

Zara’s eyes followed the movement.

She saw the thick outline straining against the fabric. A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

She glanced toward the kitchen. Alex had headphones in now, nodding along to whatever he was listening to while he flipped bacon, completely oblivious.

Zara’s hand slid under the table.

First she just rubbed me through the shorts, slow, firm pressure right along the hard length of my cock. I gripped my phone tighter and stared straight ahead. Then her fingers slipped under the waistband, wrapped around me, and pulled my cock free right there under the table.

The heat of her fist almost made me groan.

She started stroking me in long, tight pulls, thumb spreading the precum that was already leaking from the tip. Her face stayed calm, eyes on her phone like she wasn’t jerking off her boyfriend’s best friend while he cooked breakfast a few feet away.

I clenched my jaw and breathed through my nose.

She stroked faster.

The wet sound of her hand on my cock was soft, but in my head it was deafening. My hips wanted to push up into her fist. I forced myself to stay still. Her grip tightened every time she reached the head, twisting just enough to make my stomach muscles jump.

I was already close. Too close.

Zara felt it. She leaned in just slightly, still pretending to scroll, and whispered so only I could hear:

“Come.”

That was it.

My orgasm hit hard. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to stay quiet as I shot thick ropes of cum across her fingers and the underside of the table. She kept stroking me through it, slower now, milking every last drop until my cock twitched and I had to grip the edge of the chair.

Only when I was fully spent did she let go.

She wiped her hand on the hem of her nightgown like it was nothing, then went back to her phone.

In the kitchen, Alex pulled one earbud out and called over his shoulder,

“Breakfast’s almost ready.”

Zara smiled sweetly.

“Perfect timing.”