Sunlight bleeds through the curtains like a slow confession while I stare at the blank television screen, remote dangling from my limp fingers. The house feels too quiet after Emily's departure, her perfume lingering in the air like a ghost that refuses to pass on.
"Be back around eight, baby," she'd whispered against my lips before slipping out the door in that sleek black dress that hugged her curves like a second skin.
The beautiful morning we shared feels like it happened to someone else. Waking up tangled in Emily's arms, her silver hair spilling across my chest. Breakfast in bed. Slow, lazy sex that left us both breathless. Lunch together, talking about everything and nothing. A perfect bubble of happiness that burst the moment she checked her watch and said, "I need to get ready, sweetie."
I flip channels mindlessly, not really seeing what passes on the screen. Sports. News. Some ristoless cooking competition. My finger keeps pressing the button as if the next channel might somehow contain the answer to my fucked-up situation.
The sound of a door opening down the hallway makes my stomach clench. I don't need to turn around to know it's Holly. My body recognizes her presence like prey senses a predator, some primal warning system firing in my brain.
"Hey there, Daniel." Her voice slides across the living room, smooth as ice on a winter pond.
"Hey."
"Bored?" she asks, coming around to stand between me and the TV.
"Yeah, I can't find anything worth watching," I sigh, tossing the remote onto the cushion beside me.
Holly's lips curve into that smile I've come to dread, the one that doesn't reach her eyes but stretches wide across her face like a lion baring its teeth.
"Wonderful," she purrs, her eyes gleaming with something dark and hungry. "Because I have something I want us to watch together while you're inside me."
Without hesitation, I reach for my sweatpants and start sliding them down my hips. No point fighting the inevitable. This is my life now, compartmentalized, mechanical, a series of motions I go through to preserve what little sanity I have left.
"On the couch or on the floor?" I ask flatly, like I'm inquiring about dinner preferences rather than sexual positions.
Holly freezes, her mouth slightly open, clearly thrown by my nonchalance. Her glasses slip down her nose before she pushes them back up with that precise gesture I've come to associate with her recalibrating.
"Uhh... the couch?" The statement comes out as a question, her usual confidence momentarily shaken.
I can almost see the gears turning behind those calculating eyes as she processes my unexpected compliance. Then her shoulders straighten, her chin lifts, and that familiar control settles back into place.
"Yes, the couch," she declares, her voice firmer now. "I want you to hold me while you watch the TV."
I glance down at the expensive-looking fabric of Emily's sofa, mentally calculating the cleanup that would be involved. "Should I lay a towel down first?"
Holly stares at me like I've suggested something truly bizarre, her head tilting slightly to one side. "What? No. Why would you…" She stops herself, shaking her head. "Just sit down."
I settle back onto the couch now naked. My body responds to the situation with mechanical precision, divorced from my emotions. Holly watches me with narrowed eyes, clearly trying to puzzle out my unusual behavior.
"You're being weird again today," she says, reaching for the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it over her head. Her bra follows, landing somewhere on the floor behind her.
"Just being practical," I reply, keeping my voice neutral. "So what are we watching?"
Holly reaches into her pocket, fishing out a small black USB drive. Her eyes never leave mine as she tosses it casually between her hands.
"I've got something special for us to watch," she says, her voice carrying an edge I can't quite place, something between triumph and uncertainty.
She steps out of her jeans and underwear in one fluid motion, kicking them aside before walking to the television. She bends down, plugging the USB into the port on the side of the TV.
"What's on it?" I ask, my curiosity genuine despite everything.
Holly grabs the remote and turns to face me, her body silhouetted against the blue glow of the screen. "I was going through Mom's computer last night," she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Found a few videos she had hidden away."
My pulse quickens as the implications hit me. "Videos of...?"
"Of her working," Holly confirms, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as she settles beside me on the couch. "I figured we could watch my mother fuck one of her clients. Together."
"Wait, seriously?" The words tumble out before I can stop them, my voice pitched higher than normal.
Holly's eyebrows shoot up behind her glasses, surprise and something like satisfaction flashing across her face. "Wow, you sound excited." She studies me with that clinical detachment that makes me feel like I'm under a microscope. "Aren't you worried you'll see her for what she really is? The whore beneath the girlfriend façade? Afraid you might fall out of love with her?"
I don't answer. Can't answer. My body has already responded with embarrassing enthusiasm, hard as steel and throbbing with anticipation. The truth is, there's nothing on that video that could make me love Emily less. If anything, I've been too afraid to ask her if she had recordings like this, too afraid of seeming like just another man fetishizing her work.
"If you find this too painful," Holly says, leaning close, her voice surprisingly gentle, "you can just look into my eyes instead, okay?"
"Okay," I lie. There's not a chance in hell I'll look away from what's about to play on that screen.
The TV flickers to life as Holly presses play. My breath catches as Emily appears, her silver hair unmistakable even in the dim lighting of what appears to be a hotel room. She's kneeling on a bed, back to the camera, wearing only a black lace bra.
Holly rises suddenly, moving to my side. Without warning, she straddles me, facing me on the couch. As she slowly lowers herself onto me, I gasp at the sensation. She's already wet, taking me in completely with one fluid motion that makes my vision blur momentarily.
She wraps her arms around me, pulling our bodies flush together. Her breasts press against my chest as she whispers into my ear, "Hold me tight while you watch." Her voice softens further, almost tender. "And if you want to cry, just tell me, okay? This could be heartbreaking for you."
I say nothing. Once again, she's really underestimating me. My arms circle her waist automatically, holding her close while my eyes remain fixed on the screen.
The video quality is poor, just an HD phone filming at a wide angle, but somehow that makes it feel more authentic. More real. The man enters the frame, his face carefully kept out of shot. He positions himself behind Emily, his hands gripping her hips with unmistakable possessiveness.
When he enters her, Emily's back arches beautifully, her silver hair cascading down her spine. The sound she makes, half gasp, half moan, sends electricity straight through me. The man is rough with her, taking her doggy style with an intensity that makes the bed creak beneath them.
I start thrusting up into Holly without conscious thought, my body responding on pure instinct. My fingers dig into her hips, matching the rhythm of the man on screen. Holly moans softly against my neck, her arms tightening around me.
"Look at her," Holly whispers, her voice hitching as I thrust deeper. "Look at how much she loves being used like that."
On screen, Emily's face comes into view as the man shifts positions. Her expression isn't just professional, it's radiant, a smile of genuine pleasure lighting up her features as her client drives into her. The look in her eyes is unmistakable, pure, unadulterated enjoyment. My cock throbs harder inside Holly, growing impossibly stiff at the sight.
"Jesus," I gasp, my grip tightening on Holly's hips.
She pulls back slightly, studying my face with narrowed eyes. "Why are you getting harder?" she demands, a note of irritation creeping into her voice.
"Because of the video," I admit, not bothering to hide my reaction. "Look at her... she's actually enjoying herself."
Holly glances over her shoulder at the screen, where Emily is now receiving a series of sharp spanks that leave red handprints blooming across her pale skin. Each impact makes Emily cry out in pleasure.
I thrust up into Holly with renewed vigor. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I watch my girlfriend, the woman I love, being pleasured by a stranger.
"You're not supposed to like this," Holly hisses, frustration evident in her voice. She grabs my chin, trying to force my gaze away from the screen. "This should be devastating for you."
But I can't look away. Emily's professional smile has transformed into something raw and authentic, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She's beautiful in her pleasure.
"Why would it devastate me?" I pant, driving deeper into Holly. "She looks amazing."
Holly's plan is backfiring spectacularly, but I notice something else happening too, despite her obvious annoyance, her body is responding to my increased enthusiasm. Her inner walls clench around me as I pound into her, her breathing growing more erratic with each thrust.
"Stop enjoying this," she commands, but her voice breaks on the last word as I hit a spot deep inside her that makes her shudder.
"You're enjoying it too," I point out, feeling a strange surge of confidence. For once, I have the upper hand in this twisted dynamic.
On screen, the thrusting intensifies, and Emily's moans grow louder. I match the pace, my hips slamming upward with enough force to make Holly bounce on my lap. Her glasses slip down her nose, and for once she doesn't immediately adjust them.
"Shut up," she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "This isn't how it's supposed to go."
"You fucking cuck!" Holly spits the words at me, her face contorted with rage. "You're actually getting off on watching your girlfriend get fucked by another man!"
But even as she hurls the insult, I feel her body betraying her words. Her hips grind down harder, taking me deeper as her inner walls flutter around me. The contradiction between her angry words and her responsive body only heightens my arousal.
"What kind of pathetic loser loves watching his girlfriend service other men?" she continues, voice rising with each word. Her nails dig crescents into my shoulders as she rides me faster. "Does it make your tiny dick hard knowing she comes home to you with another man's cum still inside her?"
I should feel shame at her words, but instead, they send electric currents straight to my groin. On screen, Emily throws her head back in ecstasy, and I thrust up harder in response, matching the rhythm of her client.
"You're… You're disgusting," Holly gasps, her insults losing steam as pleasure overwhelms her. "A fucking doormat who… Who… Oh god!"
Her body suddenly stiffens, her back arching dramatically as her orgasm crashes through her without warning. Her inner walls clamp down on me with bruising force, pulsating around my cock with an intensity that makes my vision blur.
"Fuck, Daniel!" she screams, all pretense abandoned as waves of pleasure wrack her body. Her glasses slip completely off, clattering to the floor as she convulses in my arms. "Oh god, oh god, oh GOD!"
The sight of her completely undone, combined with the rhythmic contractions of her impossibly tight pussy and Emily's moans from the TV, pushes me right to the edge. The pressure builds at the base of my spine, unstoppable and overwhelming.
"Holly!" I gasp, feeling myself right at the precipice.
She's still shaking from her own orgasm, her eyes unfocused and wild. "Fine, fine," she pants against my ear, "just hurry up and cum in me for God's sake."
The permission triggers something primal in me. I grip her hips hard enough to bruise, driving upward one final time as the dam breaks. My release crashes through me in violent waves, each pulse more intense than the last as I empty myself inside her.
Holly grabs my face, crushing her mouth against mine in a kiss that's all hunger and possession. Her tongue invades my mouth as I continue to throb inside her.
"That's right," she whispers fiercely against my lips, "give it all to me. That's mine. I deserve all of it."
I bury my face in her neck, moaning like a wounded animal as the final tremors of my orgasm ripple through me. My hips jerk involuntarily, my body completely at the mercy of sensations I can't control.
When I finally stop shaking, we remain locked together, both of us panting against each other's skin. The video continues playing on the TV, Emily's professional moans creating a surreal soundtrack to our aftermath.
Holly slowly disentangles herself from me, wincing slightly as she lifts off. She retrieves her glasses from the floor, that precise adjusting gesture returning as she slides them back onto her nose.
Holly's suddenly grabbing for the remote, jabbing at buttons with such fury I'm surprised the plastic doesn't crack. The screen goes black, cutting Emily off mid-moan. She yanks the USB drive from the TV port and clutches it in her fist like she's considering crushing it.
"We are never, ever watching one of her videos again," she snarls, face flushed with anger rather than the afterglow of pleasure. Her glasses sit slightly crooked on her nose.
"Oh come on," I protest, still riding the high of what just happened. "That was incredible. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy the sex…"
The look she gives me could freeze hellfire. Her eyes narrow behind those wire-rimmed glasses, her jaw clenching so tight I can almost hear her teeth grinding.
"There will be consequences for this, Daniel," she says, her voice dropping to that terrifying calm that's worse than any shouting. "Serious consequences."
"But I did exactly what you asked!" I throw my hands up, genuinely confused by her reaction. "You wanted me inside you while we watched. That's literally what happened."
"You weren't supposed to like it!" she screams, her composure finally shattering. "You were supposed to be disgusted! Horrified! Heartbroken!" She's trembling now, clutching the USB like it's radioactive. "Not... not getting harder while watching my mother get railed by some stranger!"
I open my mouth to argue, but Holly's already storming toward the hallway, completely naked, her ass still glistening with evidence of what we just did.
"You're fucking broken!" she shouts over her shoulder, her voice cracking with rage as she slams her bedroom door. "This isn't over!"