Page 82 of Thanking Her Brother's Best Friends

"Give it to me!" she begged, pushing her hips back against me as my balls slapped her clit. I groaned loudly as I came. I shoved my cock forward, and it exploded in her pussy, shooting hot streams of cum deep into her.

She cried out as she felt my cock unload in her. I was fucking her very, very hard now, so much so that she had to remove her hand from my balls and hold on to the wall for dear life.

As I kept filling her, pumping stream after stream of hot cum into her, she joined me, crying out as a powerful second orgasm tore through her.

I pushed her hips forward and buried my dick inside her, as far and deep as I could manage.

She squeezed every drop out of me, clenching and gyrating as only she knew how. When we finally stopped, it left the both of us panting for breath and wobbly in the knees.

I held on to her hips for a minute as we calmed ourselves. Slowly, I pulled out, and she stood up and turned to face me, smiling like a vixen.

"That was hot," I said, leaning in to kiss her.

She increased the speed of the shower, and we stood there until the water hardened me once again, and I fucked her one more time, her leg cast over my left arm as she cried out my name.

By the time we got out of the shower, I could say I'd never had so much exercise in my whole adult life.

We put our clothes on, and she told me she wanted to take a nap. I stayed in bed beside her while she slept, her mouth slightly parted as she took shallow, soft breaths.

How could one human being feel so fucking special?

Dom wasn't kidding when he said he'd toppled hook, line, and sinker. I was right there beside him, falling hard and fast.

* * *

Selene

"Tell me we have something."My voice quavered slightly as I stood before Reynolds. The man looked more weathered than last time.

"We do," he said with a satisfied nod. "My team was able to nab a man slipping out of a celebrity's home two evenings ago. Not a celebrity—well..." He paused and looked like he was rolling words on his tongue before he eventually said them.

"A TikTok star. She's had a meteoric rise to fame in the post-COVID era. She... erm... she makes money by impersonating Billie Eilish."

I blinked at him. "Is this a real job?"

He looked at the table as if it were the most interesting object. "Well, she earned a million last month in brand deals and collaborations, so I'd say she isn't doing too badly for herself."

I had an impossible urge to laugh and cry at the same time. "What a time to be alive."

"As I was saying," he continued, clearing his throat.

I realized that if we dwelt too long on the topic of the TikTok star's monthly income, he would either have an aneurysm or consider a career change. I did not fancy my most reliable PI turning into a social media influencer overnight.

"The man was caught leaving her premises by a team of ex-SEALS who work at my agency. The modus operandi was very similar, including the removal of an item of underwear from the scene. When we narrowed in on him, he folded like a pack of cards. Just took the right questions—they all have something they'll sell their souls for."

So do I, I thought, disconnecting for a moment.So does Reynolds and every last one of us.

"What did you find?" I asked him.

"The man is a professional underwear thief," he responded with a faint hint of incredulity in his voice. He turned a brilliant shade of sunset red as he spoke.

Poor Reynolds, I suddenly thought. This was likely the last conversation he ever thought he'd be having with one of his clients.

"A professional underwear thief?" I repeated his response faintly. "Are you for real?"

"Unfortunately," he replied politely, "I am. It turns out that he works for clients. He—erm—he takes requests from them and collects materials specific to those requests."

"So," I reply, trying to piece together the jumbled mess in my head. "Someone was paying this creep to steal my panties?"

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