Chapter 162

Sofia stayed rooted to the spot. It wasn’t a panic response; if there was any single requirement to their profession, it was the ability to act when confronted, not freeze. Yet, nonetheless, Sofia couldn’t move.

Why? Obviously, she didn’t need to be here. Whether she had needed to enter their room at all was a dubious duty she’d assigned herself. But now that she had delivered her message, she hadn’t the smallest reason to stay.

So. That meant if she stood there and kept watching, then Jordan, and worse, Natalie, would make all sorts of assumptions. Not leaving implicitly announced that she wanted to be here, watching the two women go at it. Watching them—her childhood friends—rut like horny animals.

And why did that sight make her so dizzy? Natalie, red-faced and grunting, slamming into Jordan, their bodies sweaty with exertion, the air thick with the scent of sex. Jordan moaning with each thrust, pushing her hips back and grinding into Natalie, wiggling her ass and stirring Natalie’s massive dick around inside her. And so shamelessly. Lost to the pleasure of it. Barely able to keep her attention on Sofia, despite Sofia knowing the instigating woman wanted to tease her.

Why did watching the two girls fuck make her heart pound like this? Make her dizzy, her breath come so fast, chest heaving up and down like she was running a marathon?

And why wasn’t she walking away before Jordan could continue to taunt her, dragging her into this mess?

“A voyeur?” Natalie asked, finally responding to Jordan. It had taken her a second to process what the other woman had said—then look at Sofia in a new light, her lips curling as she, like Jordan, made all sorts of wildly incorrect assumptions.

“A giant pervert,” Jordan agreed. “Who likes to barge in and watch her friends fuck. Who can’t tear her eyes away from your big, fat cock plowing into my pussy.” She emphasized the statement by thrusting her ass into Natalie’s hips with a loud smack. “I mean, look at her. That look on her face. I bet she’s already wet. How gross.”

Natalie laughed, and the demeaning sound of it sent a thrill through Sofia. A thrill of indignation. Not ... anything else.

“I guess I don’t mind putting on a show,” Natalie said. “But really, it’s weird to barge in, then just stand there. Without without even asking.”

“She’s a pervert,” Jordan agreed. “I guess we can’t blame her. She’s always been repressed.”

“I—I came in here to tell you two that you’d be late,” Sofia protested. “Trust me. I’ve learned my lesson on being polite.”

The words felt limp, faint, and ridiculous, even to her own ears. The fact she was still glued to the spot, watching Natalie’s movements become even more brutal as she hammered into Jordan, didn’t do much to help her case.

Natalie’s thrusts ... really had some power behind them. They left meaty claps as they hit Jordan, rippling her ass and thighs with each hard impact.

Natalie had learned how to use that thing in the short time she’d had it, hadn’t she? And it was a menacing enough weapon in its own right. Jordan’s fraying composure made sense. If Natalie ever plowed into her like that, Sofia doubted she’d keep her sanity intact for long, either.

Though, why was she thinking about that? Natalie using that gross thing on her? She couldn’t imagine something she wanted less. Even the ‘bet’ was enough of an ordeal.

Natalie would be completely insufferable about sex. She would turn it into a competition—taunt, tease, and degrade her, making it clear who was the better. That Natalie knew what she was doing, and Sofia didn’t. Like that event in the locker room. And when she extracted Sofia’s climax, it would be in as embarrassing a way as possible.

Natalie would put her in her place. Pin her down and take her. No consideration. Just dominance.