Page 68 of Use Me Up

And that’s very distracting.

So, then I’m sitting on the couch with one pant leg pulled off and he’s kneeling on the floor and licking me, and it’s a whirlwind of good, for a long, long time.

Until I start thinking about how that can’t be comfortable for him, and how he must be getting bored, and why can’t I just come already, because he’s been going down on me forever.

I let him keep doing it, but I start thinking maybe I should get my vibrator, maybe I should use my vibrator and put my mouth on him, because then we’d both be getting some stimulation, and I wouldn’t feel so on the spot here.

But then I don’t want to stop him. What if he gets the idea that he should stop going down on me because it never makes me come?

All of this leads to me not even being anywhere near an orgasm, of course, and then I think I need to focus, to try to come, stop thinking all these things that are keeping me from getting off.

He tilts his head back. “Hey. I lost you.”

I scrunch up my nose. “You can tell that?”

“Your noises got different.” He lazily starts rubbing his thumb over my clit. “So, I want to try something, and if you hate it, you have to actually tell me, and I’m afraid you won’t.”

I feel a little bit of trepidation, but also excitement. “Okay,” I say breathily.

“I mean it, Hannah.” He’s staring into my pussy, almost solemn. “I could be getting this really wrong, and if I am, it’ll… I don’t want to push this on you.”

More trepidation. Is he going to ask to fuck me in the ass or something? My breath catches.

He’s still playing with my clit. “You promise you’ll tell me if you hate it?”

“Yeah,” I say, even though I don’t know if I will or not, but he has to say it now. The buildup is killing me.

He looks up at me. “So, I get this vibe from you sometimes.” His voice goes liquid and rich. “It’s like that you’re a little turned on by, uh, humiliation.”

I go taut.

He’s still rubbing me. “Me too. It’s just talking right now. Does that make you feel…? How does that make you feel, me saying that?”

I don’t know. Maybe I’ve vaguely heard of humiliation kink, but I don’t really think I know what it is. “It’s fine.”

He laughs. “Okay, I’m going to stop and not—”

“No.” I cut him off. My voice is quiet, embarrassed. “Don’t stop.”

He takes a deep breath, more sure of himself. “Okay,” he says. “So, I’m thinking, you need to get really fucking turned on, and then you’ll get out of your head, and you’ll just come because you won’t be able to stop yourself?”

I bite my lip. Ideally, yeah, it just never seems to work like that. “Maybe,” I breathe.

“Close your eyes,” he says, his fingers steady on my clit.

I obey.

“Uh, let’s pretend that…” He’s thinking about it. “You work for me. You’re, like, my assistant or something. I work in some office with a big desk, and you come to work for me, and you wear pencil skirts and little button-up blouses or something.”

Who is this fantasy for again? But I’m going to go with it. “Okay.”

“And I don’t pay any attention to you. I bark out orders and make you do them, but I also make you do kind of fucked-up things. Like, in the morning, I’ll have you come over to my desk, and stand between my spread legs.”

My pussy jumps.

“And I’ll unbutton your blouse all the way down to your skirt and I’ll reach in, and pull down one side of your bra, so that one of your breasts is just out, on display. I’ll be real businesslike about it, barely look at your bare skin, and I’ll tell you, uh, to just go and do your duties like that, for the whole day. And you have to sit outside my office at your little desk answering phones and putting stuff on my calendar with your breast out like that. At one point, maybe you try to hide it, and I scold you.”

My breath is coming in funny little gasps.