Page 83
“Slower.”
He corrects. She lets him continue. She stays upright over him, knees bracketing his hips, one hand steering him, the other still working my cock through the next verse.
He watches her mouth, her eyes, the smallest change in her breath, and fucks for that.
Heather lets him work. Jamie’s mouth opens around the want of it.
I turn the page with one hand and keep reading while she uses both of us at two different speeds.
My voice drops. I hear it go rougher. I don’t give her the satisfaction of a missed word. I watch where the sentence turns and breathe only at the punctuation. Closing my eyes would cost me the page.
Heather tightens her hand and speeds up. Then she slows so abruptly my hips follow her. The next increase lands on the long sentence, the one with no mercy in it.
“This grew; I gave commands; then all smiles stopped together.”
Her thumb wrecks the semicolon. I keep the line anyway.
“You may come.” Her fist tightens. “You may not stop.”
I keep reading.
Her grip locks and I come in her hand in the middle of the clause. My hips drive into her grip. Come spills across her fingers, my shirt, the edge of the book I won’t drop. My mouth drags on “together.” It comes out broken and accurate.
I finish the sentence. I find the next one.
Heather strokes me through it. Every pull wrings another pulse out of me.
My knee strikes the mattress. The book shakes hard enough to blur the next line. I keep my eyes open on the print until the letters stop swimming and become language again. I hold the meter because if I drop it, I’ll make a sound that belongs to Jamie.
Jamie is watching. I don’t look at him.
Heather keeps her hand on my cock and tells Jamie to keep fucking her.
I still have several lines. My voice carries strain but I don’t make another mistake.
Jamie is close. I can hear it in him.
“Not until I come.”
He makes a noise like that costs him. Heather rides the cost. Her fist stays wrapped around me, too much now, a bright raw attention I can’t escape.
I put my breath at the periods and keep going.
Heather comes on him while she looks at me, as if the orgasm is another correction aimed at the chair. Then she says, “Now.”
Jamie empties into her on my sheets with a broken sound and a last thrust she allows.
“Good boy,” she says to him.
I finish the final line and close the book.
My shirt and stomach are marked. Her hand is still loosely around my cock.
She takes the book, turns it back to the first page, and puts it in my hands. “Again.”
I look at the line I already survived. My body is done and not excused. Jamie watches from the pillow, smiling.
Heather settles her hand around me again.
