The Guest on the Sofa - The Closeness
I left her open for him and watched him take the exact position I’d had. She turned her head and held my eyes while he went harder. She still hadn’t let me go.
The Closeness
I pulled out slowly, leaving her open, stretched, dripping. Her legs stayed parted. She didn’t move. She just lay there, waiting — body flushed, skin warm, chest rising quickly.
She turned her head, shyly, and looked at Patrik. Her fingers curled slightly. An invitation.
He moved without a word, kneeling between her legs. His hands slid up her thighs, under her knees, and then he entered her in one steady stroke. She gasped — louder this time — her back arching slightly.
He started slow, deep. Hips slapping against her softly, again and again. D.’s eyes stayed shut at first, her mouth open, breathing hard. Her body moved with him, her hips lifting, giving him more.
I stood close, watching his cock disappear into her, watching her body take him. The same position I’d just had her in — but now it was him feeling what I’d felt.
His pace built — sharper, wetter, more constant. Her moans turned raw, her legs jerking slightly in his grip, but she didn’t pull away. She was just taking it.
Her legs bent and wide, his body pressing her into the sofa with each thrust. He slammed harder, faster, her bum lifting to meet him. The sound was loud now — wet, sharp, heavy.
While he was buried deep inside her, she turned her head and looked at me. No blink. No break. Just that connection, holding it while he fucked her harder. She wanted me to see it.
Then his rhythm shifted — hands sliding up her sides, his chest lowering toward hers. His mouth hovered near her cheek. Her eyes stayed on me, waiting.
“I want you to go for it,” I said. “Fully. Don’t hesitate.”
She melted into it instantly — her hands sliding up his back, legs tightening around his waist. Her hips lifted to meet him.
Now she was fucking him back — hips rolling, bum bouncing, skin slapping louder with each thrust. Her moans turned breathless, her body twitching when he hit deeper.
He pushed her leg up, folding her tighter, and drove in at a new angle. Her pelvis tilted, changing the depth. Each thrust now made her heels dig into the cushions for leverage.
Her body reacted to every stroke — stomach tightening, thighs shaking, pussy clinging to him. I could see the stretch, the glisten, the way her lips clung to his shaft as he pulled out before driving back in.
He wasn’t holding back. And she was giving him everything — not because she’d forgotten me, but because she knew I was there, watching, letting it happen.