His Girlfriend Doesn't Know Ch. 07

His Girlfriend Doesn't Know He Came Down My Throat While She Was Upstairs

My roommate Liam came into my room late at night, while his girlfriend was asleep just down the hall. He made me suck his cock, slow, deep, messy. Then bent me over and fucked me like he couldn't help himself. When she knocked on the door, he was still inside me. He lied to her face, pulled out, and went back to bed like nothing ever happened.

Paige was still packing upstairs, bouncing between rooms, her phone on speaker while she gossiped with her friend about hiking boots and wineries. I was curled on the couch, half-watching TV, half-waiting. Liam was next to me, one arm thrown across the back of the sofa like he owned the place.

His thigh brushed mine. He hadn't touched me since the foot under the table this morning--but I could feel it building again. That slow boil. The way he looked at me when Paige wasn't in the room. The tension under his skin. His cock already half-hard in my peripheral vision, fighting the fabric of the same too-tight gym shorts from last night.

I nudged his leg. "You good?"

He leaned in, eyes still on the TV. "I don't think I can wait until she leaves," he murmured. "My cock's been twitching all morning."

My heart stuttered."You're serious?"

He turned to face me. "You think I'm playing?"

I looked down. Yeah--he wasn't kidding.

A loud clatter came from upstairs. Paige had dropped something.

Liam got up like he didn't even hear it. Walked off toward the laundry room, casual as hell. I followed, pulse racing. I didn't know what was about to happen--I just knew I wanted it.

He tossed a towel into the washer without looking at me. Then he turned, leaned against the machine, and looked me up and down.

"She's gonna shower. Then pack. That gives us fifteen minutes," he said, voice low. "Come here."

I didn't hesitate. I dropped to my knees right there, cool tiles pressing into my skin. He didn't even need to pull his shorts down. His cock was already half-out, twitching beneath the waistband like it was starving. I reached up and freed it, thick and leaking.

"Tommy..." he breathed. "Fuck."

I grinned and ran my tongue along the underside, slow and mean. I wanted him to feel it. I wanted to wreck him. I wrapped my hand around the base, gave one stroke, then swallowed him halfway down in one go.

His knees buckled slightly. One hand gripped the edge of the dryer.

"You're dangerous," he muttered.

I hummed around him.

Every time I pulled back, I spit down on it--wet and filthy--before diving back in. He was getting louder. Breathing harder. One hand dropped to my hair, fingers gripping tight as he rocked into my mouth. Not hard. Just enough to lose control.

"I've been hard all morning," he whispered. "Couldn't even focus while she was talking about brunch plans."

I pulled off with a pop. "You love this, don't you?"

"Your mouth?" he panted. "Yeah. A little too much."

Then he shoved back in, thick cock sliding down my throat, hitting the back. I gagged a little but took it, eyes watering, spit running down my chin.

Just then--

"Hey babe, do you know where my extra charger is?"

It was Paige. Her voice floated down the hall like a goddamn landmine.

Liam froze.

I pulled back slightly, still stroking him, breathless. "Top drawer," I called, trying not to sound like I'd just had my throat fucked raw. "By the bed!"

"Thanks!" she called, already on her way.

Liam's hand tightened in my hair. "We need to stop."

"No," I said, licking his tip. "You started this. Finish."

He groaned and gave in.

I opened wide again. Deeper this time. Sloppier. I wanted him desperate. I wanted him struggling not to moan her name by accident. His body was tight, his abs flexing, eyes squeezed shut. I could tell he was close.

And while all that was happening--

Paige was upstairs. She stepped into my room. And there, on the floor by the bed, was Liam's towel. Black, unmistakable, the same one he always used after the gym.

She stared at it. Her eyes moved, scanning. Then she noticed the shorts he'd worn last night--my gym shorts--folded at the foot of my bed.

She didn't say anything.

Not yet.

Downstairs, Liam was panting.

"God--Tommy--I'm gonna--fuck--"

I swallowed him whole one more time, jaw aching, hands on his hips, and he came with a broken sound, thick and hot down my throat. I pulled back, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and looked up at him. He looked wrecked. Glowing. Wrecked.

We stood in silence for a beat, trying to hear if Paige was coming back down.

Nothing.

Liam tucked himself back in, breathing hard. "Think she found the charger?"

I shrugged, still flushed. "Let's hope she was too distracted."

But upstairs--

Paige stood in my room, holding Liam's towel in one hand, staring at Tommy's shorts on the bed that Liam wore last night. Her face blank.

She didn't come back down.

Just silence.