We were on the floor now.

The couch was behind us, and Emily’s bedroom door still wide open just ten feet away. Riley was on her back on the carpet, and I was half on top of her.

Our mouths were locked together in messy, desperate kisses. Every now 'n then one of us would pull back, breathing hard, and whisper the same thing:

“We can’t"

But we never stopped.

Riley’s hand was still rubbing my cock through my jeans, stroking me slowly but firm. I could feel how wet her palm was getting from the precum leaking through the fabric.

And my hand was under her shirt, squeezing her...