She heard him walk away first. Thick thighs pressed together on that couch, fingers already wet as she traces circles over her pussy through her panties—then pauses when the bedroom door clicks shut. Eyes lock onto nothing, but you know she’s looking right at you. The way her breath hitches when your shadow moves across the hall… she wasn’t supposed to be touching herself yet. But now? Now those full lips part just enough to let out a quiet moan as two fingers slip inside, knuckles deep in that swollen heat. Her free hand grips the armrest like she’s holding back—but not for long. When your footstep creaks on the stairs, she arches into it harder.
