Page 45 of Buy Me, Sir

The camera moves so close between my legs, “Nice,” he says, “clench for me, Amy.”

My pussy pulses with heat at his words and I clench for him.

I hear him swallow. Hear him licking his lips. My God.

“Beautiful,” he says, pulling the camera away and focusing on my face.

My legs are shaky and my breaths come out shallow, but I keep Mr Henley’s image close in my mind.

“The man who will take your virginity, Amy, tell me what else you would like him to do to you. Tell me what turns you on, Amy.”

I know exactly what I need to do. “This,” I say and let go of my tingling pussy, trailing my hands up my stomach and over my tits, and then I wrap my fingers around my throat and squeeze just a little, pretending its him, pretending it’s him watching me right now, and it works, my clit is fluttery and the muscles in my belly are tight.

I stare at the camera, the glaring light. I can hear him breathing. Heavy breathing.

“Come for me,” he says.

My own breaths are ragged. So hot. So scared as my trembling hands leave my throat and I’m hitching my legs, my heels scrabbling against the fabric of the chaise longue, but I don’t care as I touch my aching clit.

Don’t care as I rub like crazy.

Don’t care as I hiss and my eyes burn at the camera.

Don’t care as I feel myself losing control.

When I come it’s a rush and a shudder, my thighs clenching around the fingers on my clit. A little murmur that I stifle with my hand, and my head lolls back, waves of white rolling through me.

And then it stops.

It all stops.

A shivery rush as I realise I’m naked, naked and exposed, and that my stupid heels are digging into Claude’s posh furniture.

“I’m so sorry,” I whimper as I scrabble to change position. “My heels! I should’ve been more careful… I’m so sorry…”

But Claude doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t say a word as I look up at him with wide eyes, and then I hear the click as he turns the camera off.

He adjusts his trousers, and suddenly I feel sick.

“Can I get dressed now?” I’m already yanking up my knickers as I ask him.

He hands me my bra, and tosses me my dress from behind him.

I get dressed as quickly as I can, and then I sit, my knees tight together as I wait for his verdict.

He stares at the camera screen as I stare at him, nodding his head with a smirk.

“Very good,” he says.

My hands are twitchy, I have to clasp them in my lap. “What happens now?”

“We work out the fine print,” he says.AlexanderOnce I’ve shot my load over my faceless cleaner I can’t fucking stop.

A day of shitty client meetings with a constant fucking semi, and not even my stint in the soup kitchen can ease the fucking cravings.

I watch porn until I my eyes are bleary, trying to come over any fucking thing other than the thought of choking her in her uniform, but it doesn’t work. Nothing fucking works. My cock is sore and aching from my constant jerking, and yet nothing will tip me over the fucking edge.

In desperation I try a different search, one that makes my gut lurch.

Gay bareback rough.

Christ, what have I fucking become?

I’m minutes away from accepting defeat and checking out Claude’s listings just to regain some fucking sanity when the guy on screen takes a big fat cock in dry, his face a grimace as it ploughs all the way to the balls.

And I come.

Thank fuck, I fucking come.

I’m a wreck. My thighs tense and straining, my temples pounding as I gather my breath.

This has to stop.

I’ve got to stop.

I take as hot a shower as I can stand, scrubbing myself down as though body wash has any chance of cleaning away my own disgust.

I browse my regular dealers for current listings of rare gemstones, and spend twenty-five grand without even thinking about it.

I take Brutus out after midnight and barely notice the rain.

I smoke three cigarettes this evening instead of one.

And then, when I finally slip between my perfectly folded back sheets, I find I’m fucking hard again.

I tell myself it’s just one more time. Just once more that I’ll allow myself to jerk off over that poor little oblivious cleaner. But I’ve come twice more already by the time I finally get some fucking sleep.MelissaI try to remember everything as I prepare to tell Dean what happened with Claude.

It’s late by the time we have a coffee and I’ve checked in on Joe. He’s fast asleep, none the wiser of my crazy mission, thank God.

Sweet dreams, little one.

I kiss his head before I head out to face the music.

Dean looks terrible, pacing around the living room with his hands behind his head.

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