The One Who Watched

The One Who Watched

The sun was high but soft, filtered through a haze of late-morning heat. Patong murmured all around--distant motorbikes, bass from the rooftop bar, the hum of pleasure clinging to the tiles like dew. And Lara was already in the water.

She floated in the shallows, skin glowing, her bikini practically see-through in the sunlight. The top clung to her breasts, dark nipples visible through the sheer, clinging fabric. Her bottoms were even more daring--nothing more than a thin white thong, glistening where the water hugged her curves.

She was sipping a pineapple cocktail near the swim-up bar when she heard the splash.

And turned.

The pink one-piece.

Her.

Camille.

The girl from the night before--the one who'd leaned over the balcony railing across the way and shouted, "Want any help?" with a laugh and a wink that made Lara's thighs tighten.

Camille swam closer now, slow and easy, olive skin slick, eyes hidden behind gold-framed sunglasses. Her swimsuit was also barely there--pink, Brazilian cut, high on the hips, clinging like it had been painted on. And semi-sheer. So sheer that Lara's breath caught at the outline of her nipples, the barely-covered shadow of what lay beneath.

Camille's eyes met hers over the rim of her sunglasses. "Morning," she said, voice warm and curved.

Lara smiled. "Afternoon, almost."

Camille slid onto the ledge beside her, arms up, elbows back, breasts rising as she sat. "Long night?"

Lara raised a brow. "You saw."

"I watched," Camille admitted. "Not just watching. Enjoying."

They both laughed--low, warm, complicit.

Camille ordered something with passionfruit and rum, then turned to face her fully. Their thighs touched. Neither moved. The water shimmered between them, just below breast level.

"So," Camille murmured, "how's the exhibitionist queen this morning?"

Lara took a slow sip, eyes locked on Camille's mouth. "Still feels like I'm on stage."

"Lucky me."

Another beat.

Camille leaned in. Her breasts brushed Lara's. Soft contact--intentional. She didn't apologize. She just smiled, then let her eyes drift lower.

"You're glowing," she said. "You've still got that hungry look. Like someone left you wanting more."

Lara's thighs clenched underwater.

"You're not wrong."

Camille's hand grazed Lara's thigh again, this time slower. Fingertips trailing. "Want some help now?"

Lara licked the rim of her glass. "Yes."

They left their drinks at the bar.

The suite was still warm from the morning sun, white sheets tousled, curtains drawn halfway. Lara closed the main door behind them, shutting out the hallway. Camille wandered straight to the sliding balcony doors--and opened them. Just enough. A sliver. A chance.

"Just in case someone's watching," she said, glancing back with a grin.

The faint sounds of poolside chatter filtered in, barely there--but the possibility lingered, warm and thrilling.

Camille tossed her towel on the edge of the bed and turned. "You lay down."

Lara didn't ask. She stretched out face down on the bed, her skin still damp, the sheen of pool water catching the light on her thighs and shoulders.

Her thong clung like a whisper--barely a string, vanishing between her cheeks.

Camille grabbed a pillow and folded it in half, then slid it beneath Lara's hips with practiced ease.

It lifted her perfectly.

Her rear arched, cheeks parted slightly, and that tiny string rode higher--just enough to tease, never to hide.

Camille knelt on the bed behind her. She didn't touch her yet--she just watched.

"You're... unreal," she said softly.

Lara breathed into the sheets, her heart pounding.

"You like what you see?" she murmured.

"I love it," Camille said. "You're perfectly on display. Your skin's flushed. That string's holding on for dear life."

Lara wiggled slightlyand Camille leaned in. Her face was close now--too close. Lara could feel the breath on her rear, the heat of Camille's presence. She imagined her eyes drinking in every slick curve, every twitch.

"I want to taste what's left of last night," Camille whispered. "But I also want to make new marks."

Lara moaned into the pillow.

Camille didn't touch her.

She just breathed.

Close.

Hungry.

Watching.

And Lara had never felt more exposed... or more ready.

Camille didn't start with her tongue.

She started with her body.

She lowered herself slowly--her chest brushing Lara's bare back, her hands bracing either side of her hips, her thighs straddling Lara's slick ones until they were pressed skin to skin, heat to heat. The weight was welcome. Comforting. Intimate.

And then she started to massage.

Soft at first--hands sliding up the curves of Lara's cheeks, then down again, spreading oil she must've taken from the nightstand. Her thumbs worked small, slow circles into the tops of each cheek, never rushing, just exploring.

Lara's breath deepened. She didn't speak.

Camille's thumbs slid wider, pulling her cheeks apart--just a little, just enough to make the string of her thong disappear further between them. It didn't cover much to begin with. Now it was more suggestion than fabric--just a thread crossing her open rear like a careless bow.

Camille stared.

Lara felt it.

Her cheeks tingled.

"I love this view," Camille whispered.

She let one hand rest on Lara's hip, the other pressing up, spreading her further. Her face hovered just above, eyes tracing the gentle split, the way Lara's skin curved and dimpled, how the softest tension had already parted her just enough--just wide enough to hint at a soft, blushing center that seemed to wink open with every breath.

Camille blew gently.

Lara twitched.

Another blow--this time closer. Her breath traced the line of that bridge between Lara's pussy and her rear, hot and humid.

And then--Lara winked.

Camille grinned. "Oh, that's cute," she whispered. "It's like you're inviting me in."

Lara bit her bottom lip, pressing her face deeper into the sheets.

Camille leaned lower.

And blew again--hotter, now with intention.

Lara's hips shifted slightly upward in response, the pillow under her hips lifting her just enough to open her more. Camille's thumbs returned to her cheeks, parting her slowly. She massaged wider--thumbs pulling in opposite directions, stretching Lara's rim open until it was about a finger's width apart, softly pulsing, glistening in the low afternoon light.

She bent down. Her lips hovered. And then--

Her tongue landed on that narrow, tender bridge between Lara's pussy and her ass.

A slow drag.

A single, long, deliberate stroke.

Lara gasped.

Her hips pushed up without thinking, grinding into the pillow, her rear offering itself, chasing more.

Camille chuckled softly. "Mmm, you do want this."

Lara's fists closed tight around the sheets.

Camille returned. Her tongue traced lower, sliding just around the rim, never dipping in. Circling. Flicking. Soft as breath, but wet and focused.

Lara whimpered.

She didn't speak--she couldn't--but her hips rocked gently back into Camille's face, her rear twitching every time the tongue grazed her. She was so open now. So close.

Camille's hands were firm on her cheeks, keeping her wide, steady. Her thumbs shifted again, pulling her a little further apart.

And her tongue?

Her tongue never stopped--tracing the edge, spiraling tighter, teasing the center without ever breaching it.

Lara trembled.

She had never wanted a tongue inside her this badly.

"Please.. " she whispered into the sheets, barely audible.

Camille heard her.

And smiled.

Camille's thumbs shifted.

With a slow, practiced motion, she hooked her fingers around Lara's thong and gently pulled it to the side--exposing everything.

The string peeled away from Lara's center, gliding over her skin until it no longer blocked a thing. Now her ass was fully bare, parted, open, and glistening under Camille's warm breath.

"Better," Camille murmured. "Now I can see all of you."

She leaned in closer and let her lips graze Lara's skin, pausing for a moment to savor the view--soft folds, twitching gently, her rim still flushed and parted from earlier teasing. A delicate tension shimmered across her cheeks, stretched just wide enough to make Camille's pulse thrum.

Her tongue came next--slow, slick, and deliberate. She let the very tip slide down from the small of Lara's back, tracing a line down the crease of her cheeks until it hovered just above the rim.

Then--a deeper push.

Lara gasped.

Camille's tongue pressed past the edge, curling slowly inside. Warm, wet, and confident. Not just a flick--a claiming stroke, tasting Lara from the inside out. The texture was smooth and alive, gliding over soft, sensitive ridges as Camille explored the tender ring of muscle.

She didn't stop. She pushed deeper, the slow firmness of her tongue spreading Lara gently from within.

Lara arched her hips upward, chasing the contact. Every inch Camille gained sent a new wave of heat rolling through her.

Camille moaned into her. "Mmm, fuck yes. Open up for me. You taste filthy. Sweet. Naughty."

Lara could only moan in response. Her knees slid wider. Her rear lifted higher. Her whole body was tuned to that tongue--that long, swirling, probing tongue now buried deeper inside her, moving with a rhythm that was more thrust than tease.

Camille's hands gripped Lara's cheeks again. She spread her wider--deeper--thumbs pulling her open while her tongue pushed further still. She wanted more room to move, more of Lara to taste.

Lara cried out, her body trembling.

"Oh my god--yes--Camille--deeper.. "

Camille's tongue obeyed, sliding in a slow circle, then curling deeper. She twisted slightly, feeling the rim flutter around her, slick with spit and heat. Her face was pressed so tight to Lara's rear that she could feel the subtle clench of her body each time she moaned.

She licked in slow, wet spirals, her tongue probing, stretching, tasting. Each swirl inside was more insistent, more greedy.

Lara was falling apart.

Her hand moved between her legs. She was soaked--dripping, slippery with arousal--and the moment her fingers touched her clit, she let out a broken, desperate sob.

She rubbed hard, fast. Her hips rocked between Camille's mouth and her own hand, lost in the overwhelming pressure from both directions.

Camille didn't let up.

She moaned into Lara's rear, her tongue gliding deeper still, strong and persistent, as if she could reach through her. Her mouth sealed around the edge, sucking as she licked, making noise, slick and filthy.

"You're fucking delicious," Camille growled, her voice wet. "So stretched. So open. I could lick this asshole all night."

Lara couldn't take it.

Her legs trembled. Her eyes rolled back. Her thighs slapped the sheets.

Her thoughts dissolved into filth:

Fuck, her tongue is in me. I want her deeper. I want her knuckle-deep. I want her to hold me open while she tells me what she sees. I want her tongue to pray at my rim. I want my ass used. I want my ass filled, and someone watching.

Her moans grew louder, unfiltered, every breath a cry for more.

Camille was right there with her, her hands pulling Lara apart like a gift, her tongue now so deep it made Lara's entire core clench.

"You like that?" Camille panted. "You like me tongue-deep in your filthy little rear?"

"YES--yes--don't stop--"

"Good girl. Take it. Push back onto my tongue. Let me fuck you with it."

Lara did. She pushed. Hard.

And came.

Explosively. Violently. A full-body tremor that sent her crashing into the bed, her hand locked between her legs, her clit pulsing, her rear clenching tight around Camille's tongue.

She collapsed.

Spent.

Slick.

Shaking.

Camille crawled up beside her, her face flushed, lips glossy with slick, pupils wide.

Lara turned, eyes hazy, and reached for her. They kissed--deeply.

And Lara tasted it.

The taste of her ass on Camille's tongue. Salt and heat. Her moan was long and low, her mouth pulling Camille's tongue greedily between her lips.

Camille broke the kiss with a wicked smile and whispered, "You like that?"

Lara nodded, cheeks glowing. "I love it."

They kissed again, slower this time. Camille's hand drew lazy lines along Lara's hip, then up her back.

They both lay there, tangled and sticky, skin warm, hearts pounding.

Lara turned her head and whispered, "What are you thinking?"

Camille smiled into her shoulder.

"I'm thinking next time.. you stretch me wider."

Lara grinned.

"I was thinking some toys.. and someone watches too."

They laughed softly.

And already, their legs were sliding closer again.