The Clairvoyant: Part Two

Codey Steele grips the brass knob like a rosary bead, muttering for strength before stepping into the low-lit house. The floorboards creak his guilt into the walls. Upstairs, a silhouette waits on the bed, a woman with long streaming hair, bare ass facing the doorway. He calls Ashley’s name. Her answer is silence—only the rasp of his own belt sliding free. Her mouth seals around him, hot, greedy, and the sudden suction nearly buckles his knees. His cock is already steel-hard, the gun-powder fear turning straight to blood and lust. He grabs the flare of her hips, drives home the way she demands, buried to the balls, each thrust slamming flesh against flesh in wet, mean rhythm. The smack of skin and the rasp of her breath are the only sounds he hears—until the black explosion behind his eyes and the floor rushing up. Pain and darkness later, rope bites into his wrists. He’s spread-eagled on the mattress, head throbbing. Two naked bodies flank him. The stranger—the one he just fucked raw—is Reena Sky, the clairvoyant who painted Ashley the cheater. Only she’s no psychic; she’s the cunt eating his wife’s soul every night. Now the betrayers have him trussed, watching them sin on purpose. Ashley kneels first, tongue zeroing on Reena’s slippery cunt like she wants the taste burned into her mouth. Fingers open slick folds. They grind together, swollen lips dragging, mashing, swapping wet heat until the sheets are soaked and their orgasms crackle raw, hips jerking, thighs quivering like they’re confessing and daring God to strike them down in the same breath. Codey’s cock jerks traitorously against the mattress. He slams his eyes shut, prays for them both, prayer cracking under the sound of their slick, filthy pleasure. The mattress rocks with their second, wetter rush—gashes open, tongues slick, groaning loud, grinding, grinding—until Codey’s own voice breaks, swearing they’ll all burn for this, and still he can’t stop listening.