Nina’s throat went dry, her pulse racing, as if she were on the verge of a great secret she shouldn’t know.
When she reached the stall, she hesitated. Her breath trembled.
Then slowly, cautiously, she leaned toward the tiny slit of space between the door and the fra.
And through it, she saw.
Carrie was bent forward, her palms pressed flat against the stall wall, her body arched beautifully under the force of each thrust.
Her hair spilled over her shoulders in a ssy cascade, her face flushed, her lips parted in helpless cries of pleasure.
Behind her, her boyfriend lood like a giant, his hips slamming into her with raw power, every movent driving her further into ecstasy.
The sound of their coupling filled the washroom—wet, relentless, intimate.
Nina’s breath caught in her throat.
She clutched her chest as if to steady her heart, but it did nothing.
Heat surged through her body, a cocktail of shock, disbelief, and sothing she didn’t want to na.
Her eyes refused to look away.
She had seen Carrie smile with pride on the field, seen her bask in the cheers of boys, but this—this was different.
This was raw, unpolished, vulnerable, yet also overwhelming in its intensity.
And it hit Nina all at once: this was the real reason Carrie glowed so brightly.
It wasn’t just the makeup, the clothes, or her boyfriend.
It was this—the way she gave herself so completely, the way she was being worshiped and claid by the man behind her.
Nina’s lips trembled. Jealousy coiled in her stomach, sharp and bitter, but beneath it, another feeling stirred—an unwilling fascination.
She knew, without a doubt, this was an image she would carry with her forever.
Nina wanted to move.
Her mind scread at her to turn around, to run out of the washroom and pretend she had never seen or heard any of this.
But her legs refused to obey.
She stood frozen, rooted to the cold tiled floor, her entire body trembling as if paralyzed.
Her breath ca shallow, and every sound from inside that stall pulled her further into the trap of forbidden curiosity.
Pak!
Pak!
Pak!
The sharp rhythm of flesh colliding filled the washroom, brutal and raw.
Each thrust Ross delivered echoed in Nina’s ears, her imagination painting every detail before her eyes confird it through the narrow slit in the stall door.
Ross was unrelenting.
His massive fra lood over Carrie as he drove into her with ruthless power.
Each slam of his hips rocked her forward, her palms slapping against the stall wall for support.
Her moans weren’t quiet—far from it.
They rang out shalessly, echoing in the empty space.
At first, Carrie tried to resist Ross. To not have sex here.
She had tried so hard to plead in a gasping voice, trying to convince him earlier to slow down, warning him that soone might hear, that soone might even catch them in the act.
But Ross hadn’t listened.
He hadn’t even faltered.
Instead, he fucked her harder, faster, until every word of protest lted into cries of ecstasy.
Now, Carrie’s voice was pure surrender—high-pitched, desperate, drenched in lust.
"So good! Fuck my pussy, Ross!"
"Harder—fuck harder, don’t stop!"
"Break ! Break my pussy, Ross—fuck forever!"
Her cries were frantic, shaless confessions of pleasure, every word striking Nina like a hamr to the chest.
Carrie wasn’t the composed, beautiful girl everyone envied anymore—she was undone, ruined by desire, trembling under Ross’s relentless pounding.
And Ross—God, Ross looked like a beast.
His hands gripped her hips with brutal strength, dragging her back against him every ti he thrust forward.
Sweat glead along his arms and neck, and even through his disguise of hat and glasses, his sheer dominance radiated like an aura.
He wasn’t just fucking her; he was consuming her, claiming her.
Nina’s knees shook.
She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth to keep from gasping out loud.
Heat spread through her body, her chest tight, her thighs clenching together without her realizing.
She told herself it was disgust, or shock, or envy. Anything but what it really was.
Because the truth terrified her—part of her couldn’t look away.
Her eyes devoured every movent through that narrow slit, no matter how much her conscience scread at her to stop.
She could see Carrie’s flushed face, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks as she cried out Ross’s na again and again.
She could see the way her body jerked helplessly under his force, the way her moans climbed higher, louder, as if she wanted the whole world to hear.
And Nina felt it—that this was sothing she would never forget.
This was an image that would brand itself into her mory, haunting her with a mix of jealousy and sothing far more dangerous.
In that mont, Carrie wasn’t just her rival in Zack’s attention anymore.
She was sothing else entirely—an object of envy, maybe even desire.
Nina’s pulse raced so fast it hurt, and still, she could not bring herself to move.
Fifteen minutes later, Carrie’s moans reached a crescendo, tearing through the washroom like a storm.
With one final, ear-piercing scream, her body convulsed, trembling violently against the stall wall.
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
She slumped weakly, her legs threatening to give way entirely, but Ross caught her without hesitation.
His strong arms held her up, pressing her against him as he withdrew from her tight, trembling pussy.
The sound of their wet, sticky connection ended with a slow, final pop that echoed in the tiled space, leaving an almost palpable silence behind.
And then Nina saw it.
For the first ti, she had an unobstructed view.
Ross’s cock—impossibly long, impossibly thick—stood in full view, slick and glistening from Carrie’s juices.
It was monstrous, far beyond anything she had ever imagined.
The veins pulsed visibly under the dim fluorescent light, shimring as if alive, and its sheer girth made her stomach twist in awe and disbelief.
Nina’s hands flew to her mouth, pressing hard as she tried to silence the gasp that had escaped.
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