ANDY

The crash of glass outside froze us both. Tiffany stood there bent over my kitchen counter, my shirt rucked up around her waist, cum still dripping down her inner thighs in slow, thick trails. Her pussy looked wrecked, red and puffy, lips parted and glistening. She straightened quick, eyes darting toward the back door, but her hand stayed between her legs, rubbing our mess into her skin like she couldn't help it.

"Damien," she whispered, voice shaky but edged with heat. "He's losing it."

I pulled my shorts up fast, my cock still semi-hard and sticky. Another thud hit the doorframe. "Tiffany! I know you're spreading your legs for...