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“Komal, you must tell me to stop if I ask you to do something you don’t like. I’m relying on you for that. Can I do that? Can I trust you to communicate?”
“Yeah.”
“Say yes, Huan.”
“Yes, Huan.”
“Good girl. Now turn on the shower.”
I do.
Raising his voice above the sound of the water, he says, “Soap your breasts. Milk them for me. Squeeze them like I’m dying to, and when you can’t take it anymore, pinch your pretty nipples.”
My clit revolts, and my fingers squeeze the body wash bottle, laving clear liquid on my chest. The bottle drops to my feet afterwards because I’m so fucking eager.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you are doing to yourself,” he orders.
“Massaging. My breasts aren’t big?—”
“They’re perfect,” he interrupts, “so beautiful and perfect and suckable. They are—perfect.”
“I’m imagining how they’d look in your hands. You wouldn’t have to squeeze very hard for me to feel milked. You could pin me to the wall with just your hands on my tits.”
I hear a thump. He’s brought his hand down on the sink. “I should’ve known you’d be like this. That the only way to keep you nice and obedient is to have your mouth full with my cock.”
I’m weak, quivering, and flushed. But Huan doesn’t relent.
“Tell me, do you want to be clean or dirty?”
“Dirty,” I proclaim, embarrassingly loudly.
“Dirty girl, did you get to your nipples or have you gotten distracted?”
Immediately I pinch them. Hard. Oh, god. I’m crying out loud. I’ve never come from nipple stimulation, but I’ve been going easy on myself. With Huan’s orders, I’m tormenting them,and the pleasure is so strong and bright that I’m afraid of falling over.
“Are you—Are you touching yourself?” I blurt out.
I need him to be. I want him to lose it, too.
Air fogs up, so I lower the temperature of the water, because I need to see. And I’m already hot. Desperately hot.
His outline becomes clearer again. Huan’s muscles are bunched, and he’s angled himself enough for me to see how he’s the absolute size of my perfect dildo. Large, thick, straight. His left hand glides up and down his shaft, and his right hand pushes against the wall. The lighting creates shadows over his tortured expression. His expression is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Locks of dark hair fall across his forehead, almost covering his eyes. They've shut as if this torment is too much to bear.
Soap suds have circled and gone down the drain. Water runs clear, and I’ve got no idea how long he’ll make this shower go on for. All I know is my touch isn’t enough. Not when he’s right there. Not when his thick fingers are right there.
“Huan, this is good, but I can’t stay like this. Touch me,please!”
This isn’t about permission but me shooting a flare.Pleaseis the loudest one. With him, I barely use the word because I’ve never really had to.
“Don’t let me be alone like this,” I beg.
He shudders. “Give me time. I just need to?—”
I shut the water off and hear frayed breathing.
Is he worried aboutcomingright now? The way he grips his thick cock is as if he’s trying to keep it behaving. What happens if he looks over at me and strokes, though? He must know I am staring, but his back stays turned. Is it because he doesn’t trust himself to look?
My channel spasms at the thought.
