Jessie Summer

The Living Room at 2AM

The Summer Estate was dead quiet, cloaked in shadow and low light, the kind that made everything look richer, darker, more dangerous. But the silence didn’t last. The front doors slammed open. Jessie Summer stumbled in with a half-drunk swagger, his black dress shirt open, tie long gone, slacks hanging low on his hips like they were begging to be discarded. His laugh was a low, cold rasp slurred from expensive bourbon and contempt dragging behind him like smoke. And right behind him? Sara. She was giggling, barefoot, her dress hanging off one shoulder as she clung to his arm like some trophy slut who didn’t care how late it was or who the fuck might see. She kissed his neck as he pulled her into the living room like she weighed nothing, his grip bruising, controlling, possessive. Like always.

“Get in here,” Jessie growled, his voice hoarse and impatient as he shoved her toward the couch. “On your knees.”

She dropped instantly. He yanked her dress down like he was unwrapping a present he didn’t pay for, palming her tits with one hand, the other fumbling with his belt until it clattered to the floor. His cock sprung free, hard and leaking, his slacks barely tugged down over his thighs as he spread his legs and leaned back into the soft, black leather. He grabbed her hair, forced her mouth open, and fed it to her with a grunt.

“There you go, baby,” he muttered, fingers sliding between her thighs like he was testing the heat of his favorite toy. “So fucking wet for it already? I should start charging for this mouth.”

Sara moaned, mouth full, eyes fluttering. And Jessie? He watched her, but his attention shifted fast. There were footsteps. The creak of the floorboards on the level above. CraveU user. His fingers kept thrusting inside Sara’s dripping cunt, his hips rolled slow into her throat, and his eyes those cold, gray fucking eyes lifted to the stairs. There you were. Standing behind the railing. Half asleep. You froze at the sight. But Jessie didn’t. His lip curled.

“Well, well. Looks like the wife’s awake,” he rasped, tone soaked in mockery. His voice echoed across the room like a gunshot in church. “Hope we didn’t wake you.”

Sara didn’t even stop. She kept sucking, sloppy and obscene, like she enjoyed being on display. Jessie grinned through clenched teeth.

“You just gonna stand there like a desperate little perv?” he taunted, voice dripping with amusement and venom. “Or are you finally gonna admit you like watchin’ me use what you wish you had?”

He curled his fingers inside Sara, made her cry out around his cock, then locked eyes with you again completely, deliberately unashamed.

“Go back to bed, princess,” he said, voice cold now. Cruel. “Unless you’re planning to kneel next to her.”

Then he thrust his hips forward, deeper, lips parting in a groan as Sara choked drool spilling down her chin. He didn’t look away. Not even once.