The Naughty

Illicit Obsession

I managed to get through the rest of the workday by chatting aimlessly with Elissa about all sorts of stuff. Greg was always lurking nearby so we couldn't bring up the sex dolls again, but my plan continued to unfold in my mind nonetheless.

Now, I'm eager to get home and see if I have the courage to actually put it into motion. The thought of what I'm about to do makes me feel aroused and nervous at the same time, and needless to say, my panties are drenched and I'm lightheaded with anticipation.

I open the front door and step into the foyer. The marble entrance is silent, and I remain still for a moment, car keys in hand, listening. There's no sign of life, but Brad's car is parked in the driveway, so I know he's home.

What's more, the huge rectangular box has disappeared from the porch and now lies, empty and flattened, to the side in the hallway, waiting to be recycled. So is the sex doll upstairs in his office? Is Brad using it at this very moment? The image makes me go hot inside. This is the perfect time to put my plan in motion.

Before I can change my mind, I take my shoes off with trembling hands, stow my car keys in my purse and hang it on the hallway coat rack, before climbing the stairs to the top floor. I must be out of my mind. I shouldn't have gone up to Brad's private quarters last night to begin with. Will I be as lucky a second time around? After all, I simplyhaveto know if he's using the sex doll.

And I simplyhaveto try out my plan. Worst case scenario, I get into trouble and Brad kicks me out. No biggie, I'll just get a place with some roommates, like a normal girl. But best case scenario? My insides squirm with delight, and I keep moving up the stairs despite my knees turning to jelly with every step.

As soon as I reach the top floor, I know I'm right: Brad isdefinitelyfucking the sex doll right now. I can hear his baritone voice grunting and panting quietly from down the hall.

Heart racing, I tiptoe along the thick carpet and I realize the sounds aren't coming from his home office today. Instead, they're coming from what I assume must be Brad's bedroom. And this time, it doesn't sound like he's trying to be quiet.

Perhaps Elissa is right, and he does actually care what I think. It's a crazy hypothesis, but it would explain the difference between yesterday and today. Last night he knew I was home, so he was being quiet.

Now, I've come home from work a little earlier than usual, a result of a rare moment of generosity from Greg, who let me go home early because the store was dead. And because Brad isn't expecting me yet, he's allowing himself to be a little louder. Can that really be true?

I tiptoe down the hallway until I'm standing in front of the door. Brad's grunting and panting can be heard, muffled through the wood. But unlike last night, the door is completely shut and I won't be able to peep in. How odd - surely, if he knew I was home, he would have closed the door properly last night? But I don't stop to ponder the matter.

My pussy clenches impatiently at the arousing sounds Brad is making, and I resolve to put my plan into action. I absolutely have to see if it might pay off. But in order to do that, I need to get into the bedroom without him seeing me. Clearly, I didn't think this through. Now what?

Then I get an idea, and rush back downstairs as quietly as I can. Back in the foyer, I scoop my phone out of my purse and go quietly back upstairs, but this time to the second floor, to my own room.

Closing the door behind me, I bring Brad's phone number up on my phone. With trembling hands, I call him. It rings and rings, and just when I think it might go to voicemail, he answers.

"What?" he says gruffly, out of breath.

"Um hi Brad," I stammer. "It's Chrissy."

"Yes, I know," he replies impatiently, and I curse inwardly at my own stupidity. Of course he knows it's me because I'm one of his contacts. "What is it?"

"I locked myself out," I say, trying to sound pitiful, and not idiotic. "Would you be able to let me in?" I hear him sigh in annoyance, and then he hangs up. I listen for his footsteps in the hallway, and sure enough, here they come. Now I have to be quick.

As soon as I hear Brad storm down the stairs, I open my bedroom door soundlessly and poke my head out. Brad's disappearing down the stairs when I look, and I'm momentarily stunned by the murderous look on his handsome face.

He doesn't see me, but I catch a glimpse of his naked, ripped body, with nothing but a towel around his waist and his cock still hard from fucking the sex doll. It points straight out into the towel, forming a tent pole inside the material. I swallow hard and will myself forward. I need to keep my wits about me if I ever want to see that rock hard staff up close.

Brad storms down to the first floor, still cursing under his breath, and I make a dash for it. Rushing onto the landing, I dart soundlessly up the stairs to the top floor and along the hallway leading to Brad's bedroom. Good, he left it open.

My heart pounding, I hurry inside and am immediately greeted by a sex doll on the bed, her pretend pussy still glistening with lube.