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Alison let's Emily use Mona.

Her fingertips found her clit, slid in for wetness, began to circle... her left hand worked the scroll - more new images, more naughty thoughts, and she began to resonate to her own rhythm.

Breathing faster, she ignored the screen completely, and was lost in her own sensations. Nipples stiffening as she played. Trying to judge whether the windows let anyone see her, and quickening her pace as she decided "maybe"... Hearing the noises of people in the lobby, mixing with the wet sounds of her bringing herself off...

... and the sound of the stairwell door opening behind her...

She gave a quick start and then froze - oh my god, oh my god, footsteps on the carpet...

She was sitting motionless, hand up her skirt, hoping to avoid notice... when he walked around the edge of the chair, and stopped in his tracks, noticing everything.

Several very complicated seconds followed - she still couldn't move. Expressions of astonishment, embarrassment, and fear crossed her face... and his. Her mind still-photographed him instantly - jacket and open collar, on the large side of nondescript, a little rumpled from a runaround day of his own. Bringing with him a slight whiff of clean, honest sweat, and of the soap from the hotel lavatory.

It was just inevitable that her eyes would drop to the crotch of his slacks. For a moment, the only thing in her world was watching his pants tent up as he became, quite suddenly, erect.

Her hand began to move again, slipping fingertips over her stiffened clit, redoubling the thrills she'd been feeling - good god, what was she doing!

She froze again. Knowing that she was completely vulnerable to him, she looked at his face, not knowing what to expect.

She found him looking back, eyes wide, taking photographs of his own. Trying on a smile, to see if she would like it.

Relief flooded her as he said, "It's OK."

Thrills flooded her as he said, "Go on."

He moved to the opposite armchair as he spoke, and sat slouched for line of sight, hips tilted to let him be comfortably - and obviously - hard in his pants. She watched him, mouth hanging open in disbelief, as his eyes scanned the area. He wanted to be her lookout while she finished - how sweet!

She hadn't really realized she'd begun rubbing herself again - her instincts had reached a conclusion before she did. She squirmed to the edge of her chair, arranging skirts with her free hand until he smiled. Such a nice smile, she thought. How nice of him to come to my place. She let go of the fact that she'd have found this strange hours ago - she was so ready to get away from that world of everyday, and so far it was working out so well...

His eyes on her made her frantic, and a little clumsy. Torn between the excitement of putting on a show, and the excitement of... well, fucking herself, she was turning into a squirming, panting maniac. Her eyes never left his face as he watched her, intent on every detail, beginning to breathe heavily himself, large hands gripping his thighs to keep them from crossing boundaries.

He leaned forward, and his voice came to her again. Low and earnest, but with a touch of mischief, like a kid who wanted to play too. "I have to touch you. May I help?"

Her hips, on the edge of her chair, bucked forward as she heard what he said, and she drew a quick breath. Her nod was almost redundant - his smile had already brightened at her initial reaction.

Swiftly he was standing beside her chair, bending over her, right hand brushing her inner thigh. She grabbed his hand with her damp fingers and guided him straight to her. She'd been driving herself crazy for half an hour, she was tingling from head to toe - he was more than welcome to touch her.

The tips of two fingers tucked under her panties, tugging them farther aside, and his hand slipped down to cup her pussy, still barely concealed by her skirt.

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