Super Soaker

I was jogging along the River Thames when I felt the rhythmic vibrations of my phone. Definitely more than one message, but I wasn’t going to stop to check.

I continued running for a while until I stumbled upon a wall of hearts. It’s there that I stopped to drink some water and catch my breath. When I looked at my phone I saw new activity in the group chat.

“Good morning, beautiful. We were so turned on after chatting with you last night,” she wrote.

“Here’s what you inspired,” he added.

The next 3 messages were videos.

I looked around to see if any passersby were close before hitting play.

The first one was from his perspective—his wife bent over their bed.

Mmm, he moaned, reaching out to grab her ass roughly before hiking up her Cookie Monster shirt. His hand raked down her back and hooked her white panties with just the index finger, pulling them slowly down her body. The video cut off before revealing her full beauty.

Wow, what a great tease!

The second video was from her perspective. She pointed the camera at her man as he ran his hand over the bulge in his gray sweatpants.

Fuck, I bit my lip and played it again.

The third was a video of him pounding her from behind, their bed squeaking in tune with his thrusts. I could see their bodies moving (no privates though) but best of all I could hear them—her soft moans, his heavy breathing, the signature slap slap sound of sex. It was exhilarating.

Since neither of them was holding the camera that time, I pretended it was me.

I transported myself there to a chair in their bedroom where I sat quietly, capturing the expressions of their carnal lust—every curve of their bodies, every stroke, every slap, every suffering sigh.

I pressed my thighs together as hard as I could, desperate for something, anything to make contact with my clit.

I inspired all of this?

I was so flattered, so turned on, so… suddenly pent up and needy for release of my own.

I replayed the videos once more, this time without looking, just listening. I closed my eyes and turned up the volume on my headphones. By the time that finished, my excitement had soaked not just my panties, but my leggings as well.

“Thank god I’m wearing black, I’m dripping down my thighs,” I replied.

13 thoughts on “Super Soaker

  1. Loving that your post makes me think that you’ve been running in their minds for a long time, and maybe they even imagined thrusting into and by you while saying your name. Perspiringly primal post.

  2. Speaking from that similar space again, the sense of power derived from knowing you’re that song stuck on repeat, the catalyst to stir their blood, alchemical passion at its finest. It’s quite the rush.

    1. I do love the feeling of having that power over others and/or allowing myself to be vulnerable to it. It’s one of those things that truly makes life worth living.

      1. What a fantastic way of seeing it 😍 the vulnerability of being desired. The weakness of desiring, giving and taking control, the interplay of need and want. Absolutely delicious.

      2. Totally agree with you on the deliciousness lol, but I would link vulnerability with desiring rather weakness. I think it’s strong to express desire and pursue it 💪

      3. Interesting. I love the fresh perspective. It’s so invigorating to speak to someone else about that type of exploration. I’m learning.

      4. Oh, I know–we all have the little modifications and quirks that makes the experience uniquely ours. I just love being able to see it from someone else’s view.

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