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He turns away from me and aims the stream for the toilet.
I gawk in shock, watching that stream of piss as it lands innocently in the bowl.
“Did I do something wrong?” My voice is so pathetic.
“Not at all,” he says, and shakes himself off. He fastens his trousers and flushes the chain, then lathers his hands in the sink and dries them off. “It infuriates me when people bluff.”
“But I wasn’t bluffing…” I tell him.
“Yes,” he says. “I know.”
“Then what?” I begin, but he cuts me off, taking hold of my elbow to lift me to my feet.
“It was a test,” he tells me. “You passed.”
“I passed?!”
He smiles and it’s beautiful. “Yes, Amy. You passed.”
I really don’t think I should say thanks, so I don’t. “Don’t you want to… do that?”
He smirks. “Lord, no. What the hell do you take me for?” He steps back into the bedroom. “You haven’t even finished your champagne yet.” He gestures to the bottle still chilling. “Anyway, piss play isn’t really my thing.”
“It’s not?” I think of all the porn I’ve seen at his house. All the times I’ve watched men pee all over women on screen.
“No. It’s not.”
I follow him out. “So, um… what now?” I ask, and I realise my breath is steadier. My nerves evening out.
“We start over,” he tells me. “You can call me Ted.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
ALEXANDER
IT WAS a cunty move and I know it, but the girl was a wreck when she walked in through that door, barely able to string a sentence together.
Nerves and fear. An unpleasant combination at the best of times, not least when you’re about to give your cherry to some random in a hotel room, I imagine.
As it turns out, Amy has steel behind those big doe eyes.
She’s more beautiful in the flesh than she was on Claude’s seedy video. She’s unsteady on her heels, which indicates she doesn’t walk on them often, and she keeps fidgeting with the fabric of her dress, as though she’s not sure it fits properly.
It fits perfectly.
The light pink of the fabric highlights every slope and curve of her body. The pale flesh of her cleavage showing nicely, without being slutty.
I take a seat on the edge of the bed and pat the spot at my side for her to join me.
She sits down close, much closer than I expected, and I’m pleased my asshole of an initiation hasn’t sent her running. She’s far from running.
She looks strangely euphoric, shy but transfixed as she looks at me. Stares at me.
The girl has been staring at me since she came in through the door.
“This is quite a way to spend your first time,” I comment.
“I want this…” she begins, but I wave my hand.
“We’re past that,” I say. “I apologise if I scared you.” I make sure my eyes are on hers when I deliver the next statement. “But I’m likely to do it again, and next time won’t be a test. My interests are… extreme.”
Her eyes are incredible, thick eyelashes that I want to feel flutter against my skin, even though I rarely go in for contact that personal.
“Will they kill me… these interests?” she asks, and the question is serious, delivered so matter of factly that it takes my breath.
“No,” I tell her. “Of course not.”
She smiles. Her smile is beautiful.
“Then I don’t care,” she says. “I don’t care what you do to me.”
She can’t be serious, shouldn’t be serious, but she is. There’s a simple honesty in the way she angles her body towards mine. A calmness in her breath that I feel against my cheek.
I’ve paid a lot of money for this girl, but honestly, I’d have paid double for the experience I’m having right now.
I’ve needed this, craved this, someone like her. Someone real.
She feels so real to me.
I can barely believe this is happening.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” I ask. “Anything you want me to know? About you, about what you like?”
She shakes her head. “No. Just please don’t… hold back… I want it to be good… for you…”
Her words go straight to my cock. The soft tone of her voice brings out the demons, and it’s been too long. Too long to keep control.
I should tell her to leave. Send this sweet girl away to a far more fulfilling experience with someone who isn’t a filthy cunt.
“Please…” she whispers, as though she can read my mind. “I really want this…”
And I believe her.
I believe her when she leans in so slowly, her eyes open as she dares to guide her lips towards mine.
“I’m going to be rough,” I warn her.
“I don’t care…” she says.
And neither do I.
I kiss her, her soft lips so sweet as they press to mine. She opens her mouth without hesitation, her tongue yielding as she murmurs. I take a handful of hair and hold her tight, and her hand comes to my wrist, her fingers so light against my skin.
She kisses me back, her tongue circling mine as though she really wants me, her breath quickening as she edges closer.
I break the contact long enough to tug her dress up around her waist. She picks up where I’ve left off, hitching it up and over her tits, then tossing it free over her head.
She’s wearing the same bra and knickers from the video, the underwire digging into the flesh at the side of her tits. Much too small.
I press a hand to her ribs and guide her backwards, and she falls so easily, reclining back onto the bed and bringing up her knees. I unfasten the buckles of her sparkly heels, and pull them free.
She has perfect ankles.
Perfect little toes.
I shunt her further up until she reaches for a pillow and places it under her head. I watch the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.
I watch the damp patch on her knickers as she spreads her legs for me.
She wants me.
Fuck knows why, but she does.
MELISSA
HE DRAPES his jacket over the armchair and tugs the tie loose from his neck.
I’ve pulled that same tie taut around my own neck and pretended it was him.
My pussy flutters.
I’m not scared. Not anymore.
I love the way he kisses. I love the taste of him. I love his breath on my face.
I love the way his fingers feel in my hair.
I love the way he looks so dangerous right now.
He does look dangerous. His eyes dark and wild and his jaw so tight.
He unbuttons his shirt and takes out his cufflinks. I lift myself on my elbows for a clear sight of him, and he’s everything I dreamed. His chest is toned without being bulging muscle, a smattering of dark hair leading down to his bellybutton.
He takes off his belt and his eyes don’t leave mine.
“Let me see you,” he says.
I slip my fingers around my back, unclasping my bra without hesitation and tossing it away to the side.
He drops his trousers, and his cock looks even bigger than it did in the bathroom, jutting up towards his belly as he leans forward and takes hold of my knickers.
I squirm to help him, and he yanks them down and off, then spreads my legs to stare at my pussy.
I feel so exposed. Crazy exposed.
I can’t believe this is happening as he climbs onto the bed alongside me. I reach out to touch him and his skin burns my fingers; I can’t stop grinning.
His thumbs brush my nipples and it makes me moan.
His lips land on mine and I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
I’m a wriggling mess underneath him, his chest pressed to mine as my legs hook around his. His tongue is fierce and deep, the ridge of his cock grinds against my belly.
I want him inside me.
I want
him to do it.
I try to position myself, spreading my legs nice and wide. But he won’t. He won’t do it.
He breaks the kiss.
“No,” he says. “Not like this. Not yet.”
Not yet.
My breathing is heavy, my senses reeling as he frees himself from my grip and lowers his mouth.
His tongue flicks around my nipple, and then he sucks. He sucks me.
Oh fuck, he sucks me so hard.
His hand trails down my belly and slips between my thighs, and I’m wet. I can hear how wet I am as he strokes his fingers around my clit.
He presses hard. It aches and tingles. His thumb rubs me as he sucks on my tit, and I’m delirious, my fingers in his hair, begging for more.
Begging.
Oh fuck, I’m begging.
I look down at him sucking my nipple, and his eyes are staring right back at me.
Oh fuck.
Oh please.
His tongue flicks, his thumb circles, and I can’t stand it.
I can’t.
I really can’t.
