The door wasn't even fully closed before I stepped into the mont, Camila's rigid posture and the delivery girl's burning red face practically begging for my intervention—or, more accurately, my mischief. I slid up beside Camila, my hand settling firmly on her bare shoulder, the slight tremble of her body under my touch like music to my ears.
"Well, well..." I murmured, letting my voice carry a teasing weight as I glanced at the delivery woman. Her face was a masterpiece—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted slightly in stunned silence. "You've t my wife, I see."
Camila stiffened under my hand, her head snapping toward with a desperate, pleading look.
Oh, she wanted saving, alright, but not the kind I had in mind...The fire in her eyes only spurred on.
"Apologies for her state." I said, squeezing her shoulder just enough to let her know she wasn't going anywhere. "You see, we've been having quite a bit of fun today. Haven't we, darling?" My gaze slid down to her blouse, clinging to her damp skin, and lower still, to the unmistakable wet stain marking her thighs.
Her face burnt so hot I could feel the heat radiating from her, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at like she might explode, not expecting to turn on her at the mont. She wanted to scream, to throw sothing, but the delivery woman was watching—caught in this web I was spinning.
The girl clutched the box in her hands like a lifeline, her own face flushing deeper as her eyes flicked between us, unable to look away. She tried to keep her gaze level and professional, but it betrayed her. I could see where her focus wandered, the dart of her eyes down to Camila's soaked pants, then back up, as if to confirm what she'd seen.
"You'll have to forgive her." I continued saying, my voice as smooth as silk, carrying just enough teasing warmth to make it impossible to ignore. "Camila's always been quite sensitive. Sotis it doesn't take much at all..." My other hand slid lower, casually, deliberately brushing down her side until it rested against her hip.
Camila's ears turned red, her body stiffening like a spring wound too tight. She turned her head toward , her mortified eyes wide with disbelief, but I was far from done. The delivery girl stood frozen, her gaze darting between us, her red face betraying the fact that she couldn't stop herself from watching every movent.
"Like just now..." I added, letting my hand drift to the apex of Camila's thighs, the damp fabric of her pants clinging to her skin, unmistakably soaked.
And just like that, I gave her a gentle pat, right there, the wetness squelching audibly under the pressure.
Sploch~
The sound was obscene—a soft, wet sploch—and it echoed in the silent space between us. The delivery girl's eyes widened even further, her mouth parting in silent shock as the noise painted a vivid picture of exactly how compromised Camila was.
"She's such a ss...Truly she is." I said, the faintest hint of a chuckle under my breath as my fingers pressed lightly against the wet fabric again, eliciting another faint squelch. "See what I an? She couldn't help herself."
Camila's entire body burnt against , her head snapping toward with a mix of fury and humiliation, but no words ca out—just a trembling exhale. She was caught, her mind clearly racing for a way out, but there was none. Not now.
The delivery girl seed to falter, her hands tightening around the box, her cheeks blazing as she stood rooted in place, too shocked—or too intrigued to move. Her gaze lingered on Camila's crotch, the wetness undeniable, and then darted back up to , a silent question in her wide eyes.
I just smiled at her, my hand leaving Camila's thigh with an almost lazy, deliberate slowness. "And thank you for bringing this by, Miss." I said, my tone light, playful, as though nothing at all was amiss. "I'll get her cleaned up properly now. She's had quite the...eventful day."
I gave the delivery girl one last playful smile, the faintest glimr of mischief in my eyes as I took the box from her trembling hands.
She was frozen in place, her face an exquisite shade of crimson, her lips parted as though she wanted to speak but couldn't summon the words. Her gaze darted between , Camila's burning face, and the undeniable wetness marking her thighs.
"Well then..." I said, my tone unbothered, as though nothing was out of the ordinary. "Thank you for the delivery. We'll take it from here." My hand lingered on the edge of the door, deliberately slow, savoring the way her wide eyes followed even the smallest of my movents.
I then swung the door shut with a soft click, locking us back in our little world of chaos. But her world?...Oh, her world had just unraveled.
Outside the door, the delivery girl stood rooted to the spot, her mind reeling as everything she'd just witnessed replayed in vivid detail. The wet squelch of Camila's pants, the casual way I'd pressed against her, the sheer confidence of it all—it was overwhelming. Wrong. But also....Intoxicating.
Her body betrayed her. A warmth began pooling between her legs, a subtle dampness spreading against the fabric of her own panties. She stiffened in shock, her thighs clenching involuntarily as she felt the unmistakable beginnings of arousal creeping in.
"What the hell is wrong with ?!" She whispered to herself, her voice barely audible as the heat in her cheeks burnt even hotter.
She couldn't believe it—couldn't believe that sothing so lewd, so outrageous, had affected her like this. Her heart raced as she clutched her clipboard tighter, her fingers curling into the edges like they might anchor her sanity.
But it was no use. The image of Camila's soaked thighs and her trembling form, coupled with the way I'd so brazenly touched her, was seared into her mind. She felt a pulse between her legs, a soft throb of shaful need, and that was the final push she needed to break free.
She turned back in a frenzy and hurried back toward her van, her steps quick and uneven as though she were fleeing the scene of so unspeakable cri. Her breath ca in shallow gasps, her thoughts a chaotic mix of embarrassnt and disbelief.
"I'm so lewd!" She thought, her inner voice trembling as much as her hands were. "What kind of person gets turned on by sothing like that?" She shook her head, trying to clear the images, but they lingered, every detail sharp and vivid.
By the ti she climbed into the driver's seat, her thighs were pressed tightly together, her panties damp against her heated skin. She dropped the clipboard onto the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she stared out the windscreen, trying to steady her breathing.
She didn't move for a long mont, her mind racing, her body betraying her in ways she couldn't ignore.
"I need to get out of here...O-Or else."
She muttered, finally starting the engine and pulling away, the events of the delivery burnt into her mory in a way that wouldn't fade anyti soon...
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