Page 35 of His Keepsake

God, this chick was twisted as fuck.

Time was wasting. If I knew Grayson, he’d be watching that bedroom camera and be on his way here. I paced around her once, listening to her whimpers—it wasn’t as if she was restricted from breathing. The chest wrapping wasn’t that tight. I squatted and tore holes to free her tits, pulled them out, arranged them. I gave them a few pinches around the nipples to make her skin redden.

Even better. I rose, slowly, admiring my artwork.

“Good girl,” I muttered. “Jesus fuck, this is hot.” I took out my phone, snapped a few quick pics, then unzipped and cradled my erection. I let it throb in my hand for a few seconds, savoring this.

Then I stepped in, quietly, spread my legs and partly squatted to get lower. I used either side of her head to position her mouth. The huff of air as she breathed was vexing and warm, made my cock twitch. It wanted in. Fuck, so did I.

I smiled at my own frustration then pushed my dick to her mouth. She grimaced and kept her lips together.

“Open. Suck like a good girl, and I won’t pinch my finger and thumb over your nose.”

When I fed it in, her final spluttering whine, as I slid into that pre-wetted hole, buzzed over me like the best cock-ring.

Thick and hard as always, I barely fitted and made her mouth stretch into a huge O. I grunted and shoved deeper, felt the back of her throat. She could take it.

“That’s it. Suck it in, baby.”

Sweet, wet, hungry mouth, and her tongue flailed at my cock and seemed desperate to be anywhere but curled around me. She gagged and tried to throw her head about.

I pulled out, thrust back in, scraping on her teeth just enough to make this exquisite. The rhythm fell into place. I grunted and went faster. Next time, if I could convince G to let me have her again, I’d take it slow.

So, he had her for a week?

The rocking into her and the suction noises as I pulled out glued my gaze to her face, to her mouth. Her body moved back and forth as I face-fucked her. The plastic made sounds as it stuck to the floor and unstuck. I dribbled my focus down to her obscenely exposed tits.

Fascinated and in thrall to this plastic sex-doll abomination of my own creation, I thrust past her throat’s resistance and jetted into her. In the last, heart-stuttering second, I extracted myself, pumped some into her mouth. A few more spurts squeezed from me and splattered onto her plastic face, to dribble downward then drip onto her breasts.

I muttered, “Don’t fucking swallow. Yet.” I stood there staring at her while I listened to Grayson open and slam the front door and come sprinting.

“Just in time,” I murmured.

“You cunt,” he said.

“Swallow, now.”

For a few more seconds, I watched as she obeyed, then I turned and grinned as his footsteps halted behind me. His scowl was a thing of wonder.

“All yours. She may need a few repairs.”

“You fucking cunt.” He ran both hands over his head, tilted one concerned look at me, then at her. “Fuck. Fuck… Make sure she can breathe. Lie her down on her side so she won’t fall. Meet me outside.”

Uh-huh.I stared at his disappearing back. I thought I knew why he was upset.

I zipped up. Then I did as he asked: laid her on her side on the kitchen floor, rolled the plastic on her face upward so that it was only a strip over her eyes and ears, then went and found him.

He was sprawled on a sun lounge on the patio, dressed in dark jeans and buttoned gray shirt and boots. A normal man engaged in staring at land he owned. Beneath the surface Grayson was seething with a mystery I probably understood. I could ask for clarification, but he was a friend, and I did not want to poke this monster.

Maybe I should have left her alone, not touched her? What a terrible waste that would have been.

The expanse of terracotta paving tiles and the serene landscape beyond was a punctuation mark to my obscenities. Back there in the house a girl lay on her side, defiled. Defiled beautifully, though.

It was a damned shame I’d been interrupted and couldn’t do more.

There was friendship, and there was business. I should have remembered which was which, and not be an ass with Grayson.

“Let me guess. Not really CNC?”

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