The moment I heard the creak, my body froze. My fingers were still pressed against my clit, wet and warm, but I couldn’t move. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. I looked up, and there he was — standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the faint light from the hallway. His eyes were locked on me, dark and unblinking.I should have covered myself. I should have screamed. But I didn’t. Instead, I let my hand linger between my legs, my breath hitching as I met his gaze. The air between us felt electric, charged with something I couldn’t name.“You’re supposed to be gone,” I whispered, my voice trembling.He didn’t answer. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. I could see the way his fists clenched at his sides, the way his jeans strained against the bulge that was impossible to ignore.I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Did you forget something?”He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “No.”The word was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down my spine. My fingers twitched against my clit, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. I knew I should stop. I knew I should tell him to leave. But I didn’t.Instead, I spread my legs wider, letting him see everything. His breath hitched, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.“Since you’re here,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “you’re going to watch. And you’re not going to touch yourself unless I say so.”He nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with desire.I started slow, dragging my fingers through my wetness, letting him see how much he affected me. My other hand moved to my breast, pinching my nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I saw his hands twitch at his sides.“Don’t,” I warned, my voice firm despite the heat pooling between my legs. “You don’t get to touch yet.”He groaned, low and deep, but he kept his hands at his sides. His eyes were glued to me, watching every movement, every flick of my fingers. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, hot and demanding.I let my head fall back against the pillows, arching my back as I pressed harder against my clit. My hips moved on their own, grinding against my hand as pleasure built inside me. I could hear his breathing growing heavier, faster, and it only made me wetter.“Do you like watching me?” I asked, my voice breathless.“Yes,” he growled, his voice thick with need.I smiled, biting my lip as I slid two fingers inside myself. The sensation was intense, and I couldn’t hold back the moan that tore from my throat. His eyes darkened, and I saw his hand move toward his zipper.“I said no,” I snapped, and he froze, his hand hovering over his crotch.“Please,” he begged, his voice rough.I shook my head, my fingers moving faster inside me. “Not yet.”He groaned again, his whole body tense as he watched me. I could see the way his muscles flexed under his shirt, the way his chest heaved with each breath. It was intoxicating, knowing how much he wanted me, how much he needed me.I curled my fingers inside myself, hitting that spot that made me see stars. My moans grew louder, more desperate, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. My thighs trembled, and my back arched off the bed as pleasure surged through me.“Now,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “Touch yourself.”He didn’t hesitate. His hand flew to his zipper, yanking it down and freeing his cock. He was already hard, thick and straining against his boxers. He wrapped his hand around himself, stroking in time with the rhythm of my fingers.The sound of his low groans mixed with my own moans, filling the room with a symphony of desire. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body coiled tight with tension.“Faster,” I demanded, and he obeyed, his hand moving quicker, his strokes harder.My vision blurred as pleasure exploded inside me, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I came. My body convulsed, my fingers still buried deep inside me as I rode out the waves of pleasure.He wasn’t far behind. With a guttural groan, he came, his release spilling over his hand as he stroked himself through it.For a moment, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to his knees beside the bed, his eyes still locked on mine.“Emily,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.I reached out, brushing my fingers against his cheek. “Stay.”

The moment I heard the creak, my body froze. My fingers were still pressed against my clit, wet and warm, but I couldn’t move. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. I looked up, and there he was — standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the faint light from the hallway. His eyes were locked on me, dark and unblinking.

I should have covered myself. I should have screamed. But I didn’t. Instead, I let my hand linger between my legs, my breath hitching as I met his gaze. The air between us felt electric, charged with something I couldn’t name.

“You’re supposed to be gone,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. I could see the way his fists clenched at his sides, the way his jeans strained against the bulge that was impossible to ignore.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Did you forget something?”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “No.”

The word was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down my spine. My fingers twitched against my clit, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. I knew I should stop. I knew I should tell him to leave. But I didn’t.

Instead, I spread my legs wider, letting him see everything. His breath hitched, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Since you’re here,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “you’re going to watch. And you’re not going to touch yourself unless I say so.”

He nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with desire.

I started slow, dragging my fingers through my wetness, letting him see how much he affected me. My other hand moved to my breast, pinching my nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I saw his hands twitch at his sides.

“Don’t,” I warned, my voice firm despite the heat pooling between my legs. “You don’t get to touch yet.”

He groaned, low and deep, but he kept his hands at his sides. His eyes were glued to me, watching every movement, every flick of my fingers. I could feel his gaze like a physical touch, hot and demanding.

I let my head fall back against the pillows, arching my back as I pressed harder against my clit. My hips moved on their own, grinding against my hand as pleasure built inside me. I could hear his breathing growing heavier, faster, and it only made me wetter.

“Do you like watching me?” I asked, my voice breathless.

“Yes,” he growled, his voice thick with need.

I smiled, biting my lip as I slid two fingers inside myself. The sensation was intense, and I couldn’t hold back the moan that tore from my throat. His eyes darkened, and I saw his hand move toward his zipper.

“I said no,” I snapped, and he froze, his hand hovering over his crotch.

“Please,” he begged, his voice rough.

I shook my head, my fingers moving faster inside me. “Not yet.”

He groaned again, his whole body tense as he watched me. I could see the way his muscles flexed under his shirt, the way his chest heaved with each breath. It was intoxicating, knowing how much he wanted me, how much he needed me.

I curled my fingers inside myself, hitting that spot that made me see stars. My moans grew louder, more desperate, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. My thighs trembled, and my back arched off the bed as pleasure surged through me.

“Now,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “Touch yourself.”

He didn’t hesitate. His hand flew to his zipper, yanking it down and freeing his cock. He was already hard, thick and straining against his boxers. He wrapped his hand around himself, stroking in time with the rhythm of my fingers.

The sound of his low groans mixed with my own moans, filling the room with a symphony of desire. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body coiled tight with tension.

“Faster,” I demanded, and he obeyed, his hand moving quicker, his strokes harder.

My vision blurred as pleasure exploded inside me, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I came. My body convulsed, my fingers still buried deep inside me as I rode out the waves of pleasure.

He wasn’t far behind. With a guttural groan, he came, his release spilling over his hand as he stroked himself through it.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to his knees beside the bed, his eyes still locked on mine.

“Emily,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

I reached out, brushing my fingers against his cheek. “Stay.”

A woman, believing she is alone, indulges in a private moment of pleasure, only to discover she is not as alone as she thought. The encounter leads to a charged dynamic where she takes control, commanding her unexpected guest to watch and obey her every desire, exploring themes of voyeurism, power dynamics, and mutual pleasure.

I kept touching myself even after he saw me

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