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He wanted to howl with frustration, but he leaned back in the chair, gripping the pads of upholstery over the wooden chair arms. “Showtime,” he said.
She looked wary. “What on earth does that mean?”
“Make yourself come,” he suggested. “Right here. For me.”
“You mean, standing up?” She sounded scandalized. “I don’t even know if I can do that. Women are different, you know. It’s not as easy as you might think. The conditions have to be right.”
“What conditions? Check out this condition.” He popped open the buttons of his jeans, jerked them down just far enough so that his cock could spring out heavily before him, purple and taut, full to bursting.
She stared at him, looking dazed and worried. “I don’t know if I—”
“Not even with me sitting here, twenty inches away? Salivating?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Especially not with you there salivating,” she said haughtily. “I have to be comfortable, to start, and I—”
“Start somewhere. Do something,” he said bluntly. “Get to it. Put your hand on yourself.”
“But I—”
“It’s OK if it takes a while,” he assured her. “I’m patient.”
Still, she stood there, frozen with shyness and indecision. He seized her hand, moved it to the dark satiny swath of her pubic hair. He loved the way it stayed flush and gleaming smooth to her skin until it got down to her slit, and then suddenly curled out every which way into a dark frill over the hood of her clit.
He pressed her fingertips to it. “Start there,” he suggested.
She stared into his eyes, her gleaming red lower lip caught between her teeth like she’d forgotten it was there, and waited until he thought he was going to die of the suspense…
And then she closed her eyes, lips curling up in a little smile…and did as he asked.
It wasn’t what he expected. Not that he’d had the presence of mind to expect anything, but he didn’t expect to stare at her with hot, burning eyes, humbled. Moved. Aching with lust.
There was something intensely intimate about the sight of her touching herself. It was nothing like porn masturbation scenes he’d watched, numbly, on late night adult channels. With Becca there was nothing for show, nothing for the camera, nothing faked. She didn’t undulate, flaunt herself, stroke her breasts. Her vulva was hidden by her fingers. Her energy was turned entirely inward. She squeezed her thighs around her hand, eyes shut, biting her lip. Lost in it.
He wanted in there with her, but he was the one who had pressured her into going there alone. Far from him. “Open your eyes,” he said.
“Stop it. You’re distracting me,” she whispered. “This is hard enough as it is.”
“Open them,” he urged. “I want you to see me looking at you.”
That smile again. “Don’t worry. I don’t have to see you to know you’re there. You make your presence felt.”
She was getting closer, working herself up to it with tight circles, panting breaths. He felt the power building.
And he was on his feet, in her face. “Open your eyes,” he pleaded.
“Goddamn it, Nick,” she gasped out. “I’m so close…”
He forced his hand between her clamped thighs, into the moist heat behind her fingers. “Now.” He made his voice sharp, a whip crack.
Her eyes popped open, startled, and he thrust two fingers into her slick depths just as the pleasure jolted through her. Her cunt clenched hard around his fingers, and he saw right into her unguarded eyes, right into that sweet, secret space inside her, where he wanted to be.
God. Where he wanted tolive.
He held her up there against the wall until she could more or less stand again, and then gave in to the inevitable and sank to his knees, lifting up one of her legs and placing it on the seat of the chair.
“Hold open your pussy for me,” he told her.
She fumbled to obey him, and just shook there, poised over him on wobbling legs, and holding her labia wide for him. He went at her with his hungry tongue, sliding it up and down the sopping length of her pink vulva with swirls around the taut, swollen clit at the top, deep darting thrusts into it, over and over until she came again with a low wail, jerking and shuddering against his face. Too soon. He could stay there, drinking from that sweet fountain of life. For hours.
