Page 23 of Use Me Up

I moan in assent.

“Say it,” he whispers fiercely. “Say, ‘Yes, Ellis, I’m touching my pussy.’”

“Yes, Ellis, I’m touching my pussy,” I repeat, and the words make something twitch pleasantly within me.

He sets something down next to me, and I realize it’s his phone, and it’s got a fancy microphone attached. “I went to get this to record you.”

That’s… weird. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Haven’t,” he says. “I had the microphone for something else. I just wanted to do it right.” He lifts up, trailing a finger down my spine. He drags it over the curve of my ass, and then he uses both hands to pull my legs wide. He hisses. “There you are, good girl, rubbing yourself.” He touches me. “And you’re nice and slick, too.” He hums, pleased with me, and I half-crest at that. I like pleasing him, I’m realizing.

His fingers come up to nudge my clit along with my own.

I start to remove my finger.

“No, Hannah,” he says. “I’m just the accompaniment. You be the main melody. I want you to play with yourself while I’m inside you, play with yourself until you come. You know how you like to be touched, so make sure you make yourself feel good.”

So, this is his idea of doing it better? I’m going to get myself off while he fucks me? I might be annoyed, but I’m so fucking turned on right now, and I’m touching myself, touching my lubed-up clit, and it feels good, and he smells good, and he’s touching me, too, and… and…

His fingers probe my opening.

I barely flinch from him.

“You are sore,” he says in a low voice.

“A little,” I say. “But I think it’ll be fine with the lube.”

“It definitely will,” he agrees. “You can handle it just fine. Play with your pussy and you’ll be fine. If it does hurt you a little, it’s okay if you make louder noises. I would like that, you know.”

I convulse.

“And I’ll be here,” he murmurs. “I’ll be with you while you get through it. I’ll be as quick as I can, and as gentle as I can, and if you want more lube, you’ll say you want more lube.”

He cups one of my ass cheeks and gives it a little squeeze, and then he’s not touching me anymore.

I look over my shoulder. “I want to see you. I was thinking that I haven’t.”

“See me?” He’s confused, but he’s unbuttoning himself.

“See you… there.” My finger is squirming on my clit.

“My cock, you mean.” He gives me a little smile. “You’re such an adorable innocent thing, Hannah, calling it my ‘there.’” He unzips. He shoves down his boxers. There it is. “Say ‘cock,’ Hannah.”

I choke.

“I’m not bringing it closer for you to look at until you say it.” He’s running his hand over himself. He’s curved. Thick. A sort of dusky peachy color, brownish pink, the head of him darker than the shaft. The tip of him is even pinker, nearly rose colored.

“Your cock is as pretty as the rest of you,” I say, and it must be because I’m rubbing my clit that I have the bravado to say that to him.

He sighs. “God, Hannah, that made me want to fuck you right now.”

“Okay,” I gasp.

“No, no, you want to see my cock.” He comes over to the side of the bed, standing there, and I’m lying on the bed, my face turned sideways. He shows himself off to me, lifting himself to show me the underside, stroking his hand over himself, squeezing his pink tip, which glistens, and he smears that over himself.

I’m suddenly soaring close to the sun here, right on the edge of an orgasm. I begin to make little panting noises.

He meets my gaze with his own, and I can see that my reaction has affected him. “You like looking at me.”