“My bad,” I breathed out.
So not graceful.
“Hm,” he ran a hand up my back. “That’s two.”
I whimpered. How long would this go on, I’m tempted to ask. Instead, I found my agency.
“Two is enough times. I want dick now.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You ain’t ready.”
Is this some type of Jedi mind trick?
“I thought you said to communicate what I want.”
“You don’t know what you want. Or what you need. Besides, I haven’t even used my hands yet.”
AHHHH!
“Just relax for now,” he says with finality. “I’ll let you know when you’re ready to take me.”
“Oh—um. Okay.”
So much for agency.
“Great. Now hold still. This might be uncomfortable at first.”
Before I could mutter a word, something penetrated me. My body tensed up in response and I tried like hell to get a look at it.
Imagine my surprise, when I turned and saw his index finger in me. He laughed when he saw my reaction.
“Aw, looks like that mouth ain’t the only thing that’s good at running.”
Excuse me?!
“I ain’t running from shit!”
“Yes you are.” He added another finger and I flinched. “Running and twitching like a lil’ Bunny-rabbit.”
I buckled again, burying my head in the sheets. He worked those fingers into me, not letting up no matter how hard I moaned.
“Tell me how it feels?” He commanded.
“It feels good,” I managed to get out.
“How good?”
“Good as fuck.”
“You’re not ready for dick, are you?”
“No, Mr. S.”
“This is all you can handle. Right?”
