#maybe i

your hand would softly trace circles on your bare thigh, skirt flipped towards your waist as you lift your legs up on the cramped seat. you’re lucky there’s a black curtain covering you from him or else you would’ve been dragged out if he had seen you spread eagled with your panties damp in the middle.

“i’ve been thinking about this man lately,” you start in a soft and mellow voice, biting your lip to stifle your moan as your fingers pull your panties to the side, revealing your damp pussy to the stuffy air.

“he’s so handsome and tall, his voice is so deep,” you say breathily, your index finger rubbing your clit just as you stare straight ahead, where he would be sitting. “makes me shiver every time he talks. and when it’s late at night and i’m in my bed; i still think of him.”

the man on the other side takes a deep breath, already knowing what kind of confession this is but still wholly unaware of the debauchery that’s happening on the other side.

your other hand makes its move, two fingers prodding at your hole, and you let out a little noise at the added stimulation.

“my hand’s down in my panties, playing with my pussy while i moan his name,” you whine, throwing your head back against the wood as you freely fuck yourself with your fingers, the slick sounds deafening in the cramp confession box.

he’s gripping the fabric of his shirt, cock hard in his pants as he thinks about how pretty his son’s friend looks while playing with her cunt.

“what can i do, f-father? how can i—oh yes—r-repent for my s-sinful actions and thoughts?” you whimper as your fingers increase in speed, your juices leaking from your pussy and staining the maroon cushion below.

his head is tilted upwards, large hand rubbing his cock through his slacks as he clears his throat, deep voice making you shiver as you roll your hips towards your hand.