**Her Show, My Show**

It was late, way past midnight, and my apartment was quiet except for the hum of the AC. I was sprawled on the couch, lazily stroking my cock through my sweatpants, scrolling through my phone—just killing time before bed. Then my phone lit up with a text from Lisa. *“You up?”*

Lisa and I had been flirting for weeks—slow, teasing messages, but nothing had happened yet. My dick twitched just seeing her name. *“Yeah. What’s up?”* I sent back.

Her reply was instant. *“Can’t sleep. Want company?”*

Before I could even respond, my doorbell rang. My heart pounded as I got up and opened the door. There she was, wearing a tight little dress, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, lips slightly parted. She didn’t say anything—just stepped inside, kicked off her heels, and gave me a slow, knowing smile.

“You were touching yourself,” she said, eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in my sweatpants.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

She licked her lips. “Good. Keep going.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. My hand slid back into my pants, gripping my cock again, rubbing the shaft through the fabric. Lisa watched, her eyes hooded, her breathing a little faster. Then she reached behind her back, unzipped her dress, and let it slide down her body.

Fuck.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Her tits were perfect—round, full, her nipples already hard. My fingers tightened around my dick as I took her in—her smooth stomach, the curve of her hips, the patch of dark hair between her legs. She spread her thighs slightly, just enough to tease.

“Slow,” she murmured, stepping closer. “Don’t rush it.”

I obeyed, dragging my hand up and down my shaft, my thumb rubbing over the wet tip. She bit her lip, watching me, one hand sliding up her own stomach to cup a breast. Her fingers pinched her nipple, and she let out a soft gasp.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” I groaned.

She smiled. “You like watching me touch myself?”

“Hell yes.”

She trailed her fingers down her stomach, lower, until they brushed through her pussy. She was already wet—I could see the glint of her slickness in the dim light. Two fingers slid between her folds, and she moaned, her hips rocking slightly.

“Do it just like me,” she breathed.

I matched her rhythm, stroking my cock in time with her fingers fucking into her pussy. Her other hand was still on her breast, squeezing, teasing. My balls tightened, heat coiling in my gut.

“Faster,” she panted.

I sped up, my hand working my dick harder. She did the same, her fingers pumping in and out of her cunt, her clit swollen and begging for attention. I could hear the wet sounds of her fingers fucking herself, could see the way her thighs trembled.

“I’m gonna come,” I warned, my breath ragged.

She shook her head. “Not yet. Watch me first.”

Her free hand moved to her clit, rubbing tight little circles. Her back arched, her tits bouncing as she fucked herself faster. “God, yes,” she whimpered, her body tensing. “Fuck—*fuck*—”

Her pussy clenched around her fingers as she came, her thighs shaking, her moans loud and desperate. I stroked my cock harder, my own orgasm building fast.

“Now,” she gasped, watching me. “Come for me.”

That was all it took. My cock pulsed in my hand, thick ropes of cum shooting over my fist, my stomach, my thighs. I groaned her name, my hips jerking as I emptied myself.

Lisa smirked, licking her wet fingers. “Good boy.”

I collapsed back onto the couch, spent and panting. She stepped closer, straddling my lap, her pussy still glistening.

“Now,” she whispered, leaning in, “we do it again.”