So it started as a quiet family holiday in a remote log cabin with no signal, no shops, and nothing to do. By day three, I was, to put it mildly, fucking horny. I’d been watching TV with my parents and rocking backward and forward on my heel, rubbing my clit against myself without them knowing (obviously), and It had got to the point where I knew I needed to do something about it.

So I had slipped into the sluttiest black lingerie and taken a few pictures and videos.

But it wasn’t enough. That’s when I started to tease the guy in the cabin opposite.

I thought he might have gone now, returned to whatever he was doing, but no; he was still there, standing by the window, drink in hand, eyes fixed on me.

I stood at the edge of the bed, the cabin air cool against my bare thighs, my grey joggers and hoodie now pooled on the floor behind me. My nipples ached against the mesh, the garter belt pulling tight around my waist, the thong pulled high, lace biting into my hips and pussy. I shifted slightly, and the fabric dragged against my clit. It felt fucking A M A Z I N G

And he was still watching.

I pretended not to notice him. Walked slowly to the mirror, hips rolling ever so slightly with each step. I bent forward a little, just enough to make the curve of my ass more obvious in the reflection. I straightened the garter strap, ran a hand up over my thigh, adjusted the lace where it clung to my pussy.

My parents were literally in the next room. I could hear the clink of glasses, the murmur of conversation, a burst of laughter from the TV. If they walked past my door…

I exhaled.

My fingers drifted across my stomach, up to my tits. They bulged from the fabric, obscenely big. I cupped them through the mesh, pushing them together, enjoying the way it felt, letting the fabric stretch just enough to expose the dark edge of one nipple.

Across the way, the man took a step closer to the window.

And then I saw her. His girlfriend or wife. Whoever she was, she must have been in the next room over, because she was brushing her hair in the reflection of their mirror, utterly oblivious. That's when he realised he was being just as naughty as I was, and that this was exactly the kind of wrong I needed lol

Let my hand slide down between my thighs. Just over the lace. Watching myself in the mirror.

Out of the corner of my eye, the soft movement as his hand pressed into his joggers. A slow, subtle shift, and then the unmistakable shape of his hard cock straining against the fabric.

I stood straighter, my breath catching in my throat. My pussy throbbed.

I pulled the thong gently to one side.

Not all the way.

Just enough for a peek.

My smooth pussy glistened in the warm lamplight.

The man’s hand moved again. Deeper now.

He was stroking himself.

Not fast. Not frantically. Slow and deliberate. Staring at me.

How far should I push this, I wondered.

I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning and leaned forward toward the mirror. Bent at the waist, legs spread slightly. My thighs tensed. I glanced at the guy opposite again. His mouth was slightly open. His knuckles moved slowly, rhythmically. His girlfriend was still in the next room, now fluffing a pillow.

Fuck it. It was now or never.

I climbed up onto the bed and turned to face the window, my knees sinking into the soft mattress as I moved toward the headboard. My back arched. My thighs parted. I pushed my pussy out toward him, presenting myself, resting on my forearms with my ass high in the air, deliberately offering him the filthiest, most intimate view of me possible.

My pussy was soaked, lips spread by the position, glistening in the low cabin light. I heard the floorboards creak faintly downstairs, my parents still awake, still just one wrong footstep away, and the danger just made it hotter; I was too far gone now, the hornyness taking over.

I reached beneath myself with shaking fingers and touched my clit.

I moaned into the mattress, soft and low. My fingertips circled slowly, then faster, my breath growing more ragged with each pass. I let my legs fall a little wider, spreading even more, presenting myself fully to the window, knowing exactly how filthy I looked like this, a desperate little thing, naked from the waist down, my tits bouncing with each gyration, hunched forward and fingering myself.

I looked back over my shoulder.

He was still there.

And now? His joggers were pulled halfway down his thighs.

His hand pumped steadily along the full length of his cock, his eyes locked on the way I writhed for him, pussy exposed and trembling, dripping onto the bedsheets with every stroke of my fingers.

And behind him, like a fever dream, his girlfriend, moving through the background, completely unaware. She’d lit a candle. Set a glass of water by their bed. Jesus. She looked like she was humming. This was so wrong.

And, watching his pure and innocent girlfriend in the next room while I was bent over like a whore, legs spread, fingers inside myself, while her boyfriend jerked off at the sight of me, I started to cum all over my own fingers.

I buried my face in the sheets and bit down hard.

My climax hit like a wave, crashing through me, sharp and sudden and soaked. I moaned low and desperate into the mattress, body shaking, thighs clenching, clit pulsing. I felt it flood out of me, my cum dripping down my inner thighs.

Panting. Spent. Still face-down, my ass bare to the window, legs trembling.

Eventually, I turned to look back, but he was gone. Curtains drawn. Like it had never happened at all.

Except I was lying here, panties ruined, soaked through with my own mess, the scent of my pussy filling the cabin, my heart still pounding.

I knew I should clean up; change the sheets, wipe down, pretend nothing happened. But instead I just lay there in the dark, legs still parted, breathing heavy, wondering if he was lying in bed now with his girlfriend curled up beside him…my perfect little pussy still filling his thoughts.

For the first time since I started the holiday, I was looking forward to the next night…