DRIPPING WHILE I FUCK YOU IN FRONT OF YOUR BOYFRIEND

Valia’s POV

The pan hissed as I cracked the last egg into it. My thighs sparked with every small shift of weight… deep, dull throbs that reminded me exactly where Hurst’s fingers had been last night. How thick they’d stretched me, how cruelly he’d left me empty and shaking.

My panties were still soiled with juices, and sneaking into Damian's room without giving last night's ordeal away was practically impossible.

So, I had on nothing but the jersey from yesterday, the hem brushing my skin still sticky from dried arousal and spit. Every time I moved, cool air kissed the slickness between my legs. I clenched involuntarily, trying to ignore how swollen I still felt.

The scent of butter and onions drifted down the hall, and Damian's grown bellowed from the bedroom, voice thick with sleep.

“Babe? That you?”

I forced my voice steady. “Yeah. Making breakfast.”

He shuffled out a minute later. Hair messy, boxers low on his hips, yawning. He wrapped an arm around my waist from behind, then kissed my neck.

“Missed you last night. Where’d you disappear to?”

My heart kicked hard. I kept stirring the eggs so he wouldn’t see my face.

“Felt sick after dinner. Didn’t want to stress anyone so I went to stay at Lisa’s. She’s close enough. Just got back early.”

He hummed, unconvinced but too hungover to push. “You okay now though?”

“Yeah. I'm… good.”

Damian sighed, nuzzling my shoulder. “If you were feeling under the weather, you should've told Hurst. Dude’s got a medicine degree. Time to start putting it to good use.”

The words landed like a slap. I froze for half a second. Then, the kitchen doorway filled with him.

Hurst strolled in shirtless, sweatpants slung low, hair still damp from a shower. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes sliding over me like he owned every inch.

“Morning,” he said, voice lazy. “Medicine degree, huh?”

Damian laughed. “Yeah, man. Val was sick last night. Could’ve used your expert hands.”

Hurst’s gaze locked on mine… before he grinned with a slow smile.

“Oh well. She didn't tell me. I'd have tried to take good care of her. Checked her temperature… made sure she was properly… filled with medicine.”

The innuendo dripped like oil.

My core clenched so hard I nearly dropped the spatula. Heat flooded my face.

Damian snorted, oblivious. “Yeah, yeah. Save the doctor jokes for later” he wandered back to living room, flipping on the TV to obsess over last night's game highlights.

Hurst shrugged, pushed off the counter, and started cracking eggs into a bowl.

Exhaling shakily, I reckoned I’d kept my head above water for just a while longer…

…until I turned back to the stove and felt Hurst behind me.

He was close. Unreasonably close. I could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest.

His hand slid under the hem of the shirt. No warning. Two thick fingers dragged through my folds, slow and deliberate, spreading the wetness already leaking out of me.

“Hurst…” I gasped.

The tap was running full blast, thank God, masking the wet sound of him circling my clit.

“Soaking wet?” he breathed against my ear. “Are you really that desperate, Valia?”

I gripped the counter edge, trying to twist away, but He pinned my hip with his other hand, and plung three fingers deep inside.

Thick, stretching, curling immediately to that spot that made my knees buckle.

He knew me like that back of his palm.

The eggs sizzled. The tap roared. My thighs trembled.

He pumped slow, torturously slow, thumb grinding my clit in tight circles... making me coil and shake as my vision blurred

Then, he stopped, pulling his fingers free.

I whimpered in desperation, the sudden emptiness scorching from within…

...until I felt it.

The blunt, hot head of his cock, throbbing between my ass cheeks.

My breath hitched. My waist moved to a rhythm of its own, up and down his shaft until it kissed my entrance.

He pushed, just the head, and stretched me open.

A broken sound escaped me, louder than the running tap behind us.

“Babe? You okay?” Damian’s voice cut through from the living room.

I froze. Hurst didn’t move. Just stayed lodged inside me, barely an inch, pulsing.

My voice cracked. “Y-yeah. Just… touched the hot pan. I’m fine.”

Damian grunted. “Be careful.”

Hurst’s low chuckle vibrated against my back.

“I thought you were gonna tell him everything... you filthy liar.”

He slid in with a grunt, all the way, relentlessly filling me until his hips pressed against my ass.

A roar nearly ripped from my throat.

I bit my lip bloody to trap it, but the sound still leaked out. An embarrassing, needy muffle.

He didn’t thrust. Just held there, deep, owning, while Damian laughed at something on the TV.

Then he pulled out. All the way.

I whined and rocked back, letting it slide back in.

He pulled again.

Out.

In…just the head.

Out.

In…full, stretching me wide, then out again.

Each time I nudged back, hips rolling desperately as I chased the fullness.

“Please…” The word slipped out—barely a breath. “Please… stop being so mean…”

He leaned in, lips at my ear.

“Beg nicer.”

I was shaking. Dripping down my thighs.

“Please, Hurst. Fuck me. I need it. I need your cock—”

The TV feed stuttered off and Damian rose from the couch, cursing all the way up.

“Fuckin’ decoder…”

He groaned, walking in our direction.

Hurst froze, still buried deep, but Damian stopped before he reached the kitchen.

“Hey, man. Is your girl still coming over today?”

Hurst didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull out. Just answered casually while his cock throbbed inside me.

“Yeah. She’ll be here.”

Damian scratched his neck. “I know this sounds weird, but… any chance you guys can keep it quick? Snappy? My mom’s coming over tonight. I don’t want her walking in on anything.”

At the mention of Mrs. Morales, Hurst’s cock jumped… harder, thicker inside me.

He pulled out completely.

The sudden emptiness made me whimper again.

Hurst tucked himself back into his sweats, voice even.

“I’ll think about it.”

Damian nodded, satisfied, and disappeared back down the hall.

I turned back to Hurst immediately after, desperation clear in my voice.

“What the fuck are you doing? Why'd you stop?” I breathed.

His eyes were black, pupils blown.

I stared up at him. Breath ragged, legs trembling, pussy still aching.

He leaned in close.

“Don't be greedy. I gave you a taste. Isn't that en—”

I grabbed his arm before he could walk away. He turned, looked at it, then looked at me.

The heat of his gaze made me let go.

“You… can't keep doing that” I avoided his glare. “Fuck me or don't fuck me. I can't take much more of this any—”

He grabbed my jaw and turned my face back to his.

“You're starting to have a lot of opinions for a desperate little slut.”

“Look at you” he eyed me “Begging for pleasure when just last night you threatened to tell Damian the truth.”

He let go, dragged a finger through the wetness on my thigh, brought it to my lips, and forced me to taste myself.

“How ‘bout we make a deal, Valia?"

The words left his mouth in a low growl.

“I'll think about fucking you properly. Filling that greedy little cunt the way it’s begging for… only if you help me.”

I swallowed, pussy drenched and desperate. “Help you… what?”

He smiled. Slow. Mean.

“Help me fuck Damian’s mom.”