Frowning, he started up the stairs careful not to make a noise. Was there another man here? No, Heather was not the type of woman to take on another man when she had him.

Taking the steps two at a time, he stopped as he went to her door. It was open showing him exactly what she was doing.

There was no other man, and he felt like a total bastard for thinking there was. He really needed to get his trust issues under control.

He stood frozen watching as her fingers worked between her creamy slit. Her legs were wide open, and his vision was perfect. He saw how wet she was. Her cream was dripping down to the puckered entrance of her ass.

His cock thickened, unbearably tight.

“Ben,” she said, moaning.

Heather was thinking about him?

Her arousal filled the room, drifting toward him. His mouth watered. She would be perfect and sweet.

“Please, more,” she said. If she was vocal while finger-fucking herself, he wondered what she’d be like when he finally got his cock inside her.

Shit, he needed to stop thinking about this.

Ben watched her fuck two fingers inside her cunt. Rubbing his cock through his jeans, he couldn’t turn away. He should back away without looking at her. The sight was more than he’d ever hoped for. She still wore her bed shirt while her pants had been thrown off the bed. Her creamy thighs were spread. It would be so easy for him to walk toward her, settle between her legs and take her.

She’d be tight and hot.

He couldn’t handle it anymore. The jeans were too tight, and it was hurting him to keep still.

Unbuckling his belt, Ben pulled his erect flesh out of the confines of the jeans. The tip was already slick, and he stroked the length, coating it with his natural lube.

Ben saw how close she was. He witnessed the tightening of her ass and pussy as she brought herself closer to the edge.

Her cries erupted seconds later, and he saw her cream flow out of her. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to drink from her.

Pumping his shaft, he froze as her eyes landed on him. She sat up.

“Ben?” She spoke his name, and he detected the shock in her voice.

Feeling like a pervert, he pulled up his jeans. This was the last thing he’d ever wanted. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling like a teenager being caught with his pants down his ankles.

“Don’t. Stop.” He paused as she came off the bed and toward him.

Both hands were tugging up his jeans, but he stopped to watch her move. Her pussy was covered by the tails of her shirt. He’d give anything to have her naked.

“Do you want to?” Heather asked.

“What?” He was losing himself. He was supposed to be the one in control, and yet he was stumbling over everything. Even after her orgasm, Heather smelled like pure, unadulterated need.

“Touch yourself. Do you want to touch yourself, and do you want to touch me?” she asked. There was a hesitation in her voice. He’d give anything to wipe it out. He despised her hesitation, even more so because he was the cause.

“More than anything.” He answered her without holding anything back.

She reached up presenting her fingers to his lips. “Do you want to taste me?” she asked.