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“Well, I’d appreciate a little bit of privacy if you’re going toforceme to try on clothes,” I reply, exaggerating my annoyance. The dress really is very nice, and I can tell that it’s handmade or at least very high-quality. It’s better than anything in my closet at home, that’s for sure.
“Why should I leave? This is my bedroom. I have a right to be in here,” he says, gesturing around the room.
On the one hand, it seems kind of silly for me to be asking him to leave for the sake of privacy since we’ve already had sex before. What am I trying to hide from him? Is it the appeal of the mystery that I’m trying to preserve?
“Okay, fine,” I say in a somewhat bratty tone.
I’m wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that Marcello has been allowing me to wear, showing me howmercifuland accommodating he is. I begin to remove the shirt, taking my time with the process instead of whipping it off like I would after a long day at work. If he’s going to insist on watching me, he’s going to get a show.
My breasts peek out from under the shirt just as I put it back down. “Are you sure you can’t tell me where this came from? I’m honestly so curious.”
His eyes grow hungry and restless as he watches the shirt slip back over the curves of my body. I can tell that he’s secretly furious that I’m teasing him, which only empowers me to continue. This was supposed to be a power trip for him, but now I’m in control, and I like it.
“I think you should try it on before I tell you just to make sure there’s no bias,” he replies, shifting slightly on the bed.
“What do you mean? Do you really think I’m the kind of person who would keep something just because it’s a brand I like?” I ask with curiosity and a little bit of defensiveness. He’s so oblivious to the life I’ve lived outside of him, and I’m not nearly as well-off as he is or assumes I am.
“I have no idea what kind of person you are,” he says with a flat affect. “And I doubt very much that you’re used to this kind of luxury anyway, so it wouldn’t matter what name I said. You probably wouldn’t even know it existed.”
He’s getting somewhat testy, which is making this even more fun for me. I shrug, slipping the shirt completely off as I toss it to the floor. My nipples perk up as the cool air drifts over them, causing me to shiver a bit. They’re so hard that they almost hurt, but at least Marcello is getting a show out of it.
His expression changes from bored and apathetic to devious as he studies the curves of my naked chest. This is what he wanted out of this exchange, but I’m not going to give it all away without some type of tease.
As I start to pull down the waistband of my sweatpants, I notice that his huge cock is starting to bulge from his pants in a very obvious way. My face flushes as soon as I notice it, but I refuse to let myself get flustered by it. I need to maintain control.
“That looks uncomfortable,” I say as I point loosely to his hips. “You going to do something about that?”
“Maybe I will. I’m not really sure yet. Why? Do you want to do something about it for me? I can show it to you,” he asks, sitting back on the bed a bit to give me a better view.
“What you do with your dick is none of my business,” I reply, feeling my face grow hot as I suppress the lust between my legs. I want to continue teasing him, but it’s getting harder for me to focus.
It’s clear that he wants me to blow himso badly,which prompts me to turn around and slip my pants completely off. I’m naked now, but all he can see is my bare ass. I step into the dress, carefully working it over my hips and chest until it’s wrapped perfectly around my body. It feels as if it was made with every inch of me in mind, and I’m starting to wonder if he’d had this made specifically for me.
Feeling his eyes on me makes my skin crawl but also causes my chest and cheeks to flush red and hot. His gaze is so intense that it makes me want to sprint down the hallway, but I’m paralyzed by my attraction to him. No man has ever been so direct about his desire for me, even if heisa little pushy and boorish about it.
As I smooth out the fabric of the dress, I feel the way it clings to me in all the places that he wants to see the most. Even my pussy seems to peek out of the skin-tight fabric just enough for him to see the outline.
It’s clear that he won’t be taking me out in public in this outfit anytime soon, and maybe that was the whole point of getting me these clothes in the first place. He’s sick of looking at me wearinghisclothes. I’m not nearly the eye candy that he requires me to be if he’s going to grace me with his presence and a bedroom as a private prison.
I turn around to show him the front of the dress, and as soon as I pivot towards him, I see him jerking off his dick with his pants at his ankles.
My knees get so weak that I worry I’ll collapse as I watch him, stunned and uncertain of what to do next. Is he trying to intimidate me? Is this how he’s going to seduce me for sex? Because it just might work.
The first time we had sex, we were in a dark hotel room, so caught up in the heat of the moment that I didn’t actually get much of a chance toseewhat his dick looked like.
It’s as big as it felt like, that’s for sure. At least nine inches from the base to the tip, possibly ten if I’m being generous. It’s thick and curved with prominent veins, and I can see precum dripping down as he strokes himself slowly.
“What do you want me to do with all that?” I say as my breath escapes me, completely uncertain as to how I should proceed.
I want him. That’s undeniable. But if this is just a way for him to assert his dominance over me, I won’t give in to him.
“Get over here,” he growls, beckoning me towards him with his free hand. “I want you on your knees.”
My resolve against him continues to crumble as he leads me to him with an invisible, unbreakable leash. God, he’s such a dick, but all I want right now is to feel how his body responds to my touch, to taste his arousal as he climbs closer and closer-
Almost as if my mind has been taken over by a horny, insatiable demon, I step over to him and fall to my knees between his legs. I watch his dick as it throbs in his hand, twitching with the pulse of his heartbeat as he gets harder for me by the second.
“You know what to do,” he says in a low voice, just above a whisper. “I want you to take your time.”
