“You’re a rockstar. That’s par-for-the-course.”
“I’m terrified of needles, believe it or not. I know it’s not cool. I took like two Xanax when they did this one.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m just jealous. If I got a tattoo, the world would melt down. I wanted to get a tramp stamp when I was 18 and my father about lost his mind. And, to be fair, it would be wasted on me. You’ve got the back for it—not me. I should get one on my shoulder, but… again, it would be visible and people would lose their minds.”
“I cannot believe anyone cares that much! Do what you want. It’s your body.”
“Cut your hair, then,” she said, tit-for-tat.
I snickered. “It’s too butch for the censors.”
She brushed my cheek. “And I’m too pink and cheerful. Too sexy. I think it suits you. Do what makes you happy, baby. Take your own advice.”
Betty gave as good as she got, but also had a point. If I expectedherto be out, shouldn’t I at least be willing to choose my own haircut?
As I contemplated if I should argue, she leaned in, nudging my nose with hers, then delicately kissed me. It made me shiver from head to toe in the best way. I pressed her back on the bed, kissing her harder, but she resisted.
“I want to get you off,” Betty said. “I want to focus on you. I still feel guilty about last time?—”
“You shouldn’t, Betty.”
“And yet… you just… did you ever think about yourself?”
“I prefer to think about you, Betty. You getting off is what getsmeoff.”
I saw her protest rising, but continued, pushing her on the bed. Her resistance waned steadily as I kissed down her bare stomach to the tiny tuft of auburn hair above her pussy. As I dipped between her legs, she gasped. I ran my tongue over her clit, desperate to have her say my name.
“Oh, fuck,” Betty shuddered. “Oh, right there.”
There was the demanding side of her I thirsted for. Betty thrust her hips towards me and moaned louder.
“Yes! Oh, fuck, yes!”
She gripped my hair, writhing now as I continued working her over. I listened as her breath hitched every time she rolled her hips. I imagined the flush on her face.
“That feels… so good,” she gasped.
Say my name, Betty. Say my fucking name!
“Oh, fuck, Mary! I’m gonna… I’m gonna come!” She declared. “Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Good fucking girl.
Betty’s legs twitched around my ears as she dug her hands into my hair. “God, yes!”
I’d shaken her to the core. Satisfied, I resurfaced, pinning her to the bed again. Betty’s nostrils flared and her eyes appeared to refocus.
“God, you’re good at that,” she panted.
“You’re satisfied, älskling?”
“No.” Betty bit her lips. “Not quite. I want to get you off. I won’t be satisfied until I do.”
I relented, rolling sideways. She slid her fingers down to my wet center, eyes still locked to mine. I resisted the urge to throw my head as she slipped two fingers inside. A sly smile crossed her pretty face.
“Yeah? That’s good?”
“S… so good,” I answered.
