Chapter 129| Sex In A Bathroom R18+

Chapter 129: Chapter 129| Sex In A Bathroom R18+

The mirror caught everything. Maren’s palms flat on the porcelain, her elbows locked, the blue flowers of her dress bunched at her waist. Zane’s reflection stood behind her—shoulders wide, jaw tight, cock still glossy and rigid, sliding through the wet seam of her cunt without entering. Just dragging. Just teasing.

"You’re doing that on purpose," she said. Her voice came out thin.

"Doing what?"

"Making me wait."

He watched her in the glass. The fluorescent tube above them stuttered—a flicker, a buzz and in that half-second of darkness her expression shifted. Impatient. Hungry. When the light steadied, her eyes had narrowed.

"Then stop waiting," he said.

His left hand slid up her spine, palm flattening between her shoulder blades, and pressed. Not hard. Just enough to bow her forward until her cheek hovered an inch above the sink. The tap dripped once. Twice. Each drop landed in the basin like a metronome.

His right hand gripped her hip. Thumb hooked into the crease where her thigh met her ass. The head of his cock nudged lower, found the notch of her entrance, and paused there—not pushing, just resting, letting her feel the blunt pressure of him.

Maren’s breath caught. Her fingers curled against the porcelain.

"Zane."

"Say it."

"Fuck me."

He pushed in. One slow, unbroken stroke, and her body opened around him like it had been waiting all day for exactly this. Her back arched. Her mouth fell open—no sound at first, just a shape and then the moan arrived, low and cracked, swallowed by the hum of the light.

He bottomed out. Hips flush against her ass. Cock buried to the root inside her, slick and hot, her walls fluttering around him in tight little pulses.

"Jesus," he breathed.

Maren laughed—a broken, breathless thing. "Told you."

He pulled back until only the tip remained, then drove forward again. Harder. The slap of skin against skin cracked through the small room, sharp and wet. The sink wobbled. The mirror shook. Somewhere in the stall behind them, a loose bolt rattled in its housing.

He set a rhythm. Long, deep strokes that made her toes curl against the tile. Every thrust pushed her pelvis into the edge of the counter, and every retreat dragged a whimper out of her throat. Her dress had ridden up past her hips entirely now, bunched in a blue tangle at her lower back. Sweat gathered in the hollow of her spine. He watched a single drop slide down, cut a path through the dimple above her ass, and disappear where his body met hers.

"Harder," she said.

He gave her harder. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back to meet every thrust. The wet sound of her—of them—filled the bathroom like a third person in the room. He could smell her. Lemon cleaner, old grout, and underneath all of it, sex. Musky. Sharp. Human.

The mirror showed him everything. Her tits swaying beneath the sundress with each impact, he’d just noticed she didn’t wear a bra. Her mouth open against the porcelain. The way her eyes kept fluttering shut and snapping back open, like she didn’t want to miss a second of it. He caught her gaze in the glass. Held it.

"Look at you," he said.

She tried to answer but he angled his hips up, just slightly and whatever she’d been about to say dissolved into a gasp. Her whole body jolted. He’d found the spot. He knew it by the way her cunt clamped down around him, a vise of wet heat that made his vision narrow to a tunnel.

"There?" he asked.

"There...yes—don’t stop.."

He didn’t stop. He fucked her in short, punishing strokes now, never pulling out more than an inch, just hammering that one spot over and over. The counter edge dug into her pelvis. She didn’t care. Her nails scraped the porcelain—a sound like chalk on a board—and her knees started to shake.

"I’m close," she gasped. "Zane, I’m..oh god.."

He reached around her hip. Two fingers found her clit, swollen and slick, and pressed flat. No circles. No finesse. Just pressure, steady and firm, matching the rhythm of his hips.

Maren came apart. Her cunt seized around him in waves, pulsing hard enough that he felt each one travel up his shaft like a fist. She cried out—a sharp, broken sound that echoed off the tiles and her forehead dropped to the mirror. The glass fogged beneath her mouth. Her whole body trembled, thighs quaking, one heel lifting off the floor.

Zane kept moving. Kept fucking her through it. The sight of her—spent, shaking, pressed flat against the sink with his cock still buried inside her did something to the base of his spine. The pressure coiled. Tightened. Became unbearable.

"Maren, I’m.."

"Inside," she said. The word came out mangled, her cheek still squashed against the mirror. "Come inside me."

That was all it took.

He drove in one final time, buried to the hilt, and let go. His hips jerked. Cum pulsed out of him in thick, hot waves, flooding her cunt, spilling around his shaft and dripping down her inner thigh. He groaned through clenched teeth—a low, guttural sound that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his chest.

For a long moment neither of them moved. The fluorescent light buzzed. The tap dripped. The mirror showed two people frozen in a bathroom, connected, breathing hard.

Then Maren shifted. His cock slid out of her with a wet sound, and a thick rope of cum followed—white, glossy, trailing down the inside of her thigh. She watched it in the mirror. Watched his face behind her. Something flickered in her expression. Not embarrassment. Not regret.

Curiosity.

"You still hard?" she asked.

Zane looked down. His cock was slick, still half-swollen, twitching against his thigh. He looked back at her reflection. I just came in her hope it won’t amount to anything then he replied.

"What do you think?"

She turned around. Slowly. Her back against the sink, her bare legs spread, cum still glistening on her skin. The sundress hung crooked off one shoulder. Her hair was a mess. Her lips were red and bitten.

She reached down and touched herself—two fingers sliding through the mess he’d left behind, gathering it, spreading it up over her clit in slow circles.

"Then get back over here," she said. "We’re not done."