Everything’s on Tape #1 – From Milly’s Perspective
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FROM MILLY’S PERSPECTIVE
I used to feel nervous before seeing Frank – guilty, excited, so tangled up I’d want to throw up and run away. Now, I just feel hot and hungry. Even walking from the tram to his building, I’m slick between my legs, picturing him waiting in that sagging couch, picturing Tom watching everything on my phone.
Tom’s idea, of course. He wants to see. Wants proof. I can tell he’s both proud and a little scared of himself for asking, but the way he looked at me last night – so hopeful, so desperate – made me ache. “If Frank’s okay with it, film it for me,” he said, voice rough. “I want to see you. All of it.” He squeezed my thigh and I just nodded, because I want it too.
Frank’s fine with it – laughs, even, when I ask. “Set it up over there,” he says, tossing a pillow onto the battered old couch. “Your boyfriend can have front row seats.”
I prop my phone on a stack of books, aiming it wide. I leave my sundress on at first, letting him slide his hands under the hem, pushing my thighs open. His fingers are rough and hot, his beard scraping my neck as he kisses me, biting and sucking hard. I moan into his mouth, shameless, aware of the way my dress rides up, the flash of my bare ass to the camera.
Foreplay with Frank isn’t soft. He tells me to kneel, to lick him clean – his cock is filthy, sour, musky, and I worship it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as he pushes my face down. He lets me suck him until my jaw aches, then drags me up and bends me over the couch. I’m dripping, my pussy throbbing with need.
But when I dig into my pocket for the condoms, there’s that sharp, sick twist: they’re Tom’s brand, too tight for Frank. We try anyway, but the latex rips, and Frank just laughs, shaking his head. “You didn’t bring more?”
I shake my head, cheeks burning. “Do you have any?”
He rummages in a drawer, but comes up empty. “Shit. Last one went last week.”
My heart pounds. The rules flash through my mind. I say it – “We can’t. No condom.” I can barely hear myself. Frank’s hands never stop moving, cock pressing hard against my thigh, the heat of it making me wild.
He promises, voice low, “I won’t put it in, babe. Let me just rub against you, make you come. Promise.”
I nod, dizzy, desperate for friction. He pushes me onto my back, lifts my dress up, and slides the head of his cock through my soaked folds. It’s electric – thick, hot, not inside me but so close I’m shaking, grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He grinds his cock on my clit, up and down, teasing, circling, pressing just right – always pulling away when I get close.
He stops. Waits. “Want it yet?” His voice is wicked, a smile in every word.
I shake my head at first, even as my hips lift, searching. “No. We can’t. I’m not…”
He starts again, slow, relentless, dragging his cock back and forth, nudging at my entrance, every motion making me ache more. The need builds, sharper, overwhelming. I’m begging, squirming under him, sweat pooling between my breasts, the rules distant thunder in my mind.
He stops again, head pressed right against my pussy. “Say the word, Milly. I’ll fuck you raw. You want it?”
I gasp, legs quivering. “No,” I whisper, voice cracking, even as my hips chase him. “We can’t. I promised…”
He grins, moving just right, and I’m right at the edge, my whole body straining. “You sure? One word. I’ll fill you up.”
Something in me breaks – I hear myself say it, desperate and shameless, loud for the camera, for Tom, for Frank: “Please, fuck me! I need it. I need you to fuck me. Please!”
He doesn’t hesitate. He pushes inside, thick and hot, stretching me wide, and I come the second he’s in me, legs shaking, head thrown back, mouth open. I’m gushing, crying out, all thought lost to the rhythm of his cock, the weight of him above me, the red light of the camera winking in the corner of my vision. He fucks me hard, rough, both of us sweating, my orgasm rolling into another and another, until finally he grunts and fills me, his cock jerking deep inside.
I feel him pulsing, his cum flooding me, and a jolt of horror and shame splits through my pleasure – the rule, our number one rule, broken, and it’s all on video.
That’s when I realize what I’ve done, and my whole body goes cold, the afterglow swallowed by dread.
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