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“Show me,” I say. “Tell me where you want me to start.” I pant as my hand rides up and down my now painful erection.
She slides her hands down to her tits and pinches her nipples before cupping the weight of the generous globes. “These,” she says. “My breasts.” They bounce as she lets go, and her hands continue their journey south.
Her fingers run over her mound, and the tip of two disappear into her flesh, circling her clit, moaning. “Here next,” she whispers.
Pleasure boils in my veins, and I speed up my strokes, ignoring the noises I’m making as focusing on the fantasy laying out in my mind.
“Show me how you like it.” She lifts a foot to rest it on my knee, and I hold her ankle, watching as she braces a hand behind herself. She angles her legs open, and I watch, mesmerized, as she runs her fingertips along the sides of her pussy, wetness covering her fingers. Her underwear pushed to one side makes this feel illicit, erotic.
My dick grows impossibly larger in my hand, and I’m having trouble breathing in enough air.
“Eyes on me, and show me,” I direct her in a gruff voice, right near the edge. She obeys and spreads her pink folds open, standing silently waiting for my next direction.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Now open your mouth.”
She does, and I slide two fingers between her lips. “Suck.”
Abbi does as she’s told without hesitation, and her eyes close as if the sensations are too much for her to bear. Her lipstick transfers onto my skin, leaving a ring around my fingers, and I imagine how good it’s look in other places. I’ll make her do the same to my cock, but not right now.
When my fingers are coated in saliva, I pull them free and slide them straight down into her wet seam. She thrusts her breasts out, pushing her hips up to meet my fingers and groans at my sudden entry into her body.
“You like this?” I whisper, and she nods as I slide my fingers in and out. Slowly. Twisting. Feeling her stretching around me, I add a third finger. “Good girl.” My thumb takes up residence on her clit, torturing it with tiny circles as she continues to hold herself open with one hand. I curve my fingers and rub against her G-spot high inside her.
“Does this feel good too?” Inner muscles clench my fingers, and she moans loudly.
“I’m going to come,” she moans in a strained voice, hips circling against my hand as she chases her pleasure.
“Oh God.” I reach down and grip my balls, squeezing tight. My other hand works my shaft aggressively. I’m right there.
Opening my eyes, the fantasy evaporates.
My body flexes hard, bracing for the impact of my orgasm as I continue to stroke my length. I grunt when it hits, cum shoots out of me, slashing white lines over my abs and chest.
All I can do is lie there, paralyzed, panting, muscles contracting with exquisite pleasure, except for my annoying brain, which is disgusted at my fantasy on some level, at the things I want Abbi to do. Do I really want an obedient, submissive partner? Do I have a good-girl kink?Not really. But the idea of dominating, directing Abbi sexually, her pleasure being the cause of my own, was really what that was all about. At least that’s how I reason it. I roll over and punch my pillow, then immediately curse that I just spread cum all over my bedsheets.
Brilliant.
Sitting up, I wipe myself off with my T-shirt, take it off and strip the bed. Afterwards, I wander over to my desk, flicking on the light.
Great, it’s four in the morning. There’s no way I’m getting back to sleep now. Firing up my laptop, I log into my email and see one from Abbi, probably sent after she got home last night, in preparation for today. The subject line readsDate for Saturday Night - Tanya Morgan.
I sigh and start to read.
