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A desi mother has a secret revealed by her son spying on her.
His lips pressed against my ear again, murmuring, conceding. "You know I would do anything you asked, no matter the circumstances," he whispered. "If this is what you want," he pressed his hips against mine, allowing me to feel the hardness beneath those dark jeans of his. "Take it, it's yours."
The realization arrived and flew from my brain as my hands traveled down his hard chest. The purr of a zipper and my hands reached inside to claim the warm hardness that was his.
He was perfect for me, perfect for the challenges I continued to present him, perfect for treating me the way a girl ought to be treated right, perfect for his length, pressed into my hand. He ground his teeth and groaned out my name as I stroked him, softly into my one palm, my other reaching in and caressing his balls.
I glanced quickly to the entrance of the alley, watching the people walk by, unaware of him and I in the alley. The indecency that was occurring as that mother walked her son to the barber, as the elderly couple clung to each other in the crowd, as the teenagers slid by on their skateboards. They were all so close, a step further from the darkness, from catching us.
He braced himself against the brick wall, a large palm pressing flat just to the side of my face. His other hand, with the long fingers that he uses to please me endlessly on those ivory keys, snuck beneath the hem of my skirt.
"Oh fuck," he moaned into my neck, satisfied at discovering that I had left my panties at home for the evening. The heel of his hand pressed against my clit, his long fingers stroking at my wetness. "Let me have you," he choked out his words.
I bent my head to whisper in his ear, "I'm yours."
His hand retreated from my warmth and I whimpered for chrissakes. He raised it to his lips and inhaled my scent deeply. I stared, hypnotized by his hand, incredibly turned on by watching his tongue flick out and lick my juices off his palm. He focused his eyes on me, his hands moving between my legs, spreading them wider as he pressed against me.
He cupped his hand beneath my knee, lifting it higher so he could enter me more easily. My arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers finding purchase in his hair, tugging slightly. His breath was hot against my neck as he took his length in his hand, guiding it towards my pussy.
I fucking whimpered again. He paused, the head of his length pressing against into me, his hand sturdy beneath my trembling knee.
His eyes were dark and a grin toyed across his mouth. "Shhhh," he whispered. He glanced towards the street, towards the people and the lights and the rest of the fucking world, and then at me. "Don't get us caught lover."
And he slid into me, no friction, no hesitation, no remorse. I was so wet, it was so easy for him to bury into me. I gasped, wondering how I would keep myself quiet through this, wondering if I could really bite my tongue til it bled.
"Shhh girl," he whispered again, pulling out slowly and sinking back again. I struggled to hold on against him, to pull him closer to me. Feeling him, the familiar way he twitches within me, the strong hold he had on my body, the hot lips against my jaw... I was going to come before I had a moment to truly focus on the moment.
He shifted his weight, lifted my knee higher and increased his pace. I felt something cool bump against my clit and I moaned, louder than should be allowed even in private, and Edward's hand flew to cover my mouth. I glanced down to see the button on his pants, the button I had carelessly ignored while unzippering his pants earlier, the button that was now bumping in a rhythmic motion against my clit.
"Fuck," I murmured beneath his palm.
He removed his hand, shaking his head slightly, grinning like the devil.