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It’s the sensation I fantasize about, often. The one I crave like none other,and I simply can’t hang on through it a second longer, try as I might. Amy called me a sex god earlier in my garage. But the truth is I’m only a man—a mortal one with a very mortal cock. And when my cock gets physically milked like this, there’s nothing this mortal man can do but release.
My eyes rolling back, I pull out and come all over Amy’s incredible, heaving tits—not because I’m worried about her diligence in taking her birth control pills. But because I’m an animal marking my territory. At least, during this week of our arrangement. For the next ten days or so, until my scenes are done and I’ve found her a permanent gig that meets my specifications, I’m going to pull my little puppet’s strings and show her what her body can do—provided, of course, I’m her puppeteer.
I’m not proud of myself for reveling in the fact that Amy will never have sex this good with someone else. She doesn’t know it, and I don’t plan to tell her, but I’m positive when she leaves my bed she’ll be sorely disappointed by the next guy. The simple truth is that someone else could touch her exactly as I’ve done, kiss her the way I have—hell, another guy could have the same piercing and similarly sized cock—and Amy won’t even come close to coming as hard as she’s done with me. Why? Because I’m her fantasy, come to life, and I know it. The one she used to spy on while I practiced my drums in my bedroom . . . in a spot I knew she could see from her bedroom window.
It’s gonna suck for her, after this week. When she finds out I’m the only one who can get her off this way. When I’ve ruined her for anyone else. A piece of me is genuinely sorry to do that to her, honestly, but an even larger piece of me doesn’t care. In fact, that larger piece of me is reveling in it. Knowing I’m going to fulfill this woman’s fantasies this entire week, and become her gold standard for getting fucked right, forevermore.
At the thought, I grip Amy’s face and devour her mouth, putting an exclamation point on the cum I’ve left on her tits. And it’s clear from her enthusiastic reaction she’s experiencing aftershocks of pleasure.
“That was amazing,” she whispers with a smile, as her body comes down. “Thank you, thank you.”
I slide off her and lie alongside her, incapable of speaking, thanks to the unmistakable wings and lights in my belly. I take a deep breath and push through them. Ignore them. Deny them. “There’s no need to thank me,” I whisper. “Trust me, the pleasure was all mine.”
Eighteen
Amy
I snuggle next to Colin in bed and lay my cheek onto his bare chest, too exhausted to continue exploring his body any longer. Dawn isn’t here yet, but it’s threatening. For the past three hours, we’ve been tangled up in Colin’s bed, variously talking, messing around, having sex, and talking some more. But it’s clear we’re both too spent to do anything more than lie here now and chat a bit more before falling asleep.
“I meant to ask you,” Colin says softly, his fingertips brushing up and down my bare back. “What happened when you talked to Reed and his fiancée tonight? I saw Violet bring you over to them and I was dying to know if anyone brought up the time you walked in on them during the tour.”
“Nope. Nobody said a word about it. Reed didn’t even recognize me, I’m pretty sure, unless he’s a brilliant actor.”
“Oh, he is.”
“But Georgina recognized me immediately. I saw it in her eyes. She pretended to be meeting me for the first time, though, so I played along. Violet was there, and I had no desire to embarrass that poor woman again. Plus, I’m still bound by my NDA, and I take that shit seriously.”
“Not seriously enough to not tell me everything that happened.”
“You don’t count. I trust you with my life.”
Thankfully, Colin’s body language remains relaxed in the wake of my comment. In fact, he pulls me closer to him. Regardless, though, I should probably be more careful about what I admit to him, going forward. If I let my guard down too much with Colin, who knows what stupid thing I’ll say that will reveal me to be the creeper weirdo I am?
“So, why didn’t you do The Sure Thing on me tonight?” I ask, deciding to change the subject.
“That technique works best when the woman is completely relaxed and confident, and I didn’t think you’d be able to get there with me yet, not without me boosting your confidence a bit first about how easily you can come with me.”
