I was adjusting the blinds when I saw him… a shadow pressed against my window. My heart skipped, but I didn’t scream. Instead, I leaned closer, my pulse racing, knowing exactly who he was.
I whispered into my phone, still warm from earlier calls, “Babysitter Phone Sex,” letting him hear me even as he lingered outside. Tonight I had the little ones with me, but I definitely put them to sleep, before the killer decided to pop up.
The thrill of being watched always made me tingle, made my voice a little lower, a little sluttier, and made my pussy wetter. He stepped back when I let the light fall just right, revealing the outline of his body. I could see the careful way he moved, deliberate, controlled. My lips curved. Fear mingled with excitement, but I reminded myself… I invited this. I had boundaries, rules.
The thrill came from playing along, from letting him think he had the upper hand.I leaned against the kitchen counter while gently bending over pulling down my red skirt, letting my voice linger over the phone, slow and teasing. “You like watching me, don’t you?” I whisper, knowing he could hear me clearly. His laugh was low, approving, confirming the tension between us.
I moved through the huge house, feeling his gaze follow. Every step was a journey. I adjusted my hair, let my shirt slip just enough to tempt without revealing too much. The shadow hesitated, then stepped closer, hands on the glass. I pressed my palm against it from inside, mirroring him, a silent challenge.
“You’re bold tonight,” I said, voice catching slightly, letting him imagine what he couldn’t touch. He responded with a slow nod, and I felt the pulse of our shared game… dangerous, yes, but entirely consensual. Every move, every look, orchestrated by me.
The call ended, but the tension lingered. I could still feel him, just outside, just teasing the limits we’d set. I smiled to myself, heart racing, knowing this was exactly the kind of night I lived for… intense, thrilling, and completely under my control.
No doors needed to open. No rules broken. Just the electricity of fear turned fantasy, the allure of someone watching, and me, entirely in charge of the game. He came up behind me kissing my neck slowly, grabbing my tiny waist, while slowly deep fucking me with those long strokes.
I creamed so much on his dick, that he decided to keep me alive, then vanished when the police decided to pop back up. I settled back into the couch, letting my pulse slow, a satisfied grin on my lips. The night was ours, thrilling and safe, a reminder that some fantasies only work because you choose them.
Layla
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