54. Chapter 52
Derek
I toss my keys into the bowl on my kitchen counter before heading over to the wet bar, calling out over my shoulder as the others finish filing into my house. “Drinks?”
There is a chorus of agreement, and I get everyone’s usuals prepared.
Lizzottes was busy tonight, given it was a Thursday.
I’m more than a little pleased with how the restaurant is going.
When I purchased it two years ago, it had been a little mom-and-pop-style Italian restaurant passed down through the family.
The owners’ son had medical school ambitions, so his aging parents had been doing their best to keep it alive until retirement.
I brought that reality forward for them by about fifteen years when I made my offer.
Lizzottes was with me through my entire academic career, first as a place to eat and then as a staff member, working my way through college and supplementing my first few years as a TA until Newton was paying me an actual living wage.
My parents had covered the cost of my tuition, but that was as far as their support went.
According to them, having a college job was a lesson that taught quite a few life skills.
I had never mentioned to them that I’d required two jobs to learn these skills.
Justin does not have that issue. No TA of mine ever will.
Hudson comes up next to me and takes his drink when I offer it to him.
“How are things going with your gifts?”
He shrugs and takes a drink of the beer, not making eye contact. “Hard to say. Xavier tells me she opens everything and that she is using her journal. But it’s a one-way communication. If I’m lucky, she opens it in front of one of his cameras and he sends me the clip, but not all the time.”
I gather my drink and Darcy’s, while he picks up Xavier’s and we move toward the poker table, where the other two are setting things up for our weekly poker game. “You have that session with Darcy on the weekend, though, right?”
Hudson nods, placing Xavier’s drink in his cupholder embedded into the table. “Yeah, but I’m going to keep things simple. Not going to push or ask her for more than she is interested in giving. So, if all I get to do on Saturday is hold her hand for a few hours, then so be it.”
“You’ll get to help with the aftercare too,” Darcy adds as we all take our seats around my poker table.
He picks up the cards and starts shuffling.
“Depending on how the session goes and how her wrist is doing, I might try a mid-height suspension so that she is reaching down toward you. Any form of weight bearing seems to be her trigger for getting her to float.”
Hudson nods, a thoughtful tip to his head. “Of course. Might organize to have some food delivered to the warehouse, rather than taking her out again.”
“I like that plan. Trying to get her from the warehouse to Thai Orchid wasn’t a fun experience. If we can have the food ready for her as she comes back to us, I think that will be a stealthy way to get more time when her defenses are down,” Darcy adds as he deals one face card up for each of us.
A jack lands in front of me, and I patiently wait for the other three, ultimately winning the deal. Darcy hands me the leftover cards, and I scoop up the four from the felt top, starting to shuffle once they are organized in my hand.
I’ve just started dealing out the cards when there is a chime from Hudson’s phone, the noise causing him to stiffen and his eyes to widen.
Pausing with a card in my hand, ready to be flicked toward Darcy, I eye Hudson. “What?”
“That’s the sound I assigned to Emery.”
I would prefer to be able to say we all act like the almost-forty-year-old men that we are, but unfortunately, that would be a lie. We all freeze in place.
“Has she messaged you since Obsession?” I question, trying and failing at keeping my voice even, but I feel like my heart is fucking racing. Over a text message. That wasn’t even sent to me.
Is our girl starting to soften toward us?
Shaking his head, Hudson stands to withdraw the phone from his back pocket, his Adam’s apple bouncing heavily. He taps at the phone, and… I did not know his eyes could go that wide.
“Holy shit,” he breathes before he looks up at us, eyes a little wild. “Holy shit.”
“Show us,” Darcy demands, his arm stretching out across the table, palm up, waiting for the phone.
Instead, Hudson spins the phone around to face us.
It takes a moment for the image on the phone to register, and even then, I only get a second before Xavier takes the device entirely.
The main focus of the image was a fairly sizable purple cock, a vibrator, presumably. It was sitting on a white duvet, instructions open to the side, with a pair of naked female legs, one outstretched, the other tucked in.
“Where did she even get that?” Darcy mutters as he rubs his hands over his face and up into his hair, ruffling his top knot in the process.
Emery sent Hudson a photo of a vibrator, but why?
“Why did she send you a picture of her purple cock?”
Both mine and Darcy’s questions remain unanswered until Hudson’s system seems to reboot and he comes back online. “Ah, I didn’t expect her to actually use it. Well, not yet, anyway. I thought maybe next week.”
“So, you sent it to her?”
He nods before plucking his phone out of Xavier’s hand and checking the photo again. “With a note.”
“What did the note say?” I demand, getting a little irritated with how not forthcoming he is being. The urge to shake him until all the words fall out of his mouth is difficult to ignore.
“I can’t remember precisely, but it had three rules. The first one was that she had to send me a photo before she planned to use it. I…I think she is about to use it.”
We all sit in stunned silence so profound that the sound of the very distinct SugarLife notification from my phone is easily heard. All three sets of eyes swivel to face me, and I don’t hesitate to retrieve it from my pocket.
I place it face up on the table and tap the screen, my throat seizing as I see the private live invitation from Emery. Heat pools in my balls and my cock thickens so fast, I feel slightly lightheaded. “Oh, fuck.”
“What?” is the chorused demand from around the table.
“She just sent me a private live invitation.”
I can hear my pulse in my head as I make eye contact with Hudson. “I think she wants me to watch her use her new toy on herself.”
“What?”
“My personal account. You all know that I’ve been watching her public lives, but the other night, she wasn’t up for public consumption, and she allowed me a private live.
She asked me what I wanted to see, and I told her I’d watch whatever she wanted me to,” I try to explain as I continue staring at the notification, my gut squirming with a mix of need and caution.
“That night, I watched her fall asleep.”
“Does she know you are you?” Darcy asks.
“No,” I reply with a shake of my head. “She has never asked for my identity, and I have never offered it. She thinks I just like to watch her while I answer emails. But the information is all there, on my profile. I’m not hiding from her.”
Xavier snorts from across the table, but I ignore him.
My preference for watching is no secret.
The silence returns for several long drawn-out seconds.
“We’re watching it, right?” Hudson asks the question we are all thinking.
And as fucking wrong as it is, I think we are.
Emery is a smart girl. If she wanted to know the identity of the person she is talking to, all she would have to do is check my profile.
While my actual profile picture is of my chest, which could be of anyone, the second photo is of my back and my custom tattoo—a woman tied face first to a St. Peter’s cross, lines of torment gouged across her spine, on the right side of my back.
She has seen it. She knows it’s mine. All she would need to do is look.
So either she has done the smallest amount of digging and knows my secret and is enjoying this game we are playing. Or she is perfectly content to stay blissfully ignorant and put on a sex show for a complete stranger on the internet.
And who am I to deny her?
I’m not her daddy right now. I’m merely a man who is weak for this woman and prepared to give her anything she asks for.
In answer to Hudson’s question, I stand and take my phone with me, turning on the TV while simultaneously opening the notification and accepting the private invitation before she has a chance to rescind it.
Have we taken too long? Will she have lost her nerve?
While it loads, I cast my phone’s screen up onto the TV, and as everything connects, my knees give out and I fall back onto the couch.
There, in perfect high-definition, is my baby girl, completely naked on her bed, legs spread, purple cock sitting at the entrance to her pussy but not quite in, big hazel eyes staring at the screen.
“You’re here,” she whispers, eyes already a little hazy.
With hands that tremble the slightest amount, I open the chat and type out my reply.
Me: Of course I’m here. I told you, I will watch whatever you would like to show me.
Me: Are you going to show me how you make yourself come?
She releases a shaky exhale and nods as two bodies land on the couch on either side of me. I can feel someone leaning on the back by my shoulder, all four of us with our eyes plastered to my flatscreen.
Me: Have you already started? Or were you waiting for me to arrive?
“Waiting,” she says, licking her lower lip before she continues, her hand reaching down between her thighs—her brace-less hand. “Can I start now?”
Me: One more question.
Me: Why this? Why today?
Did something happen? I know she had her study group with William today. Xavier watched them the entire time we were at dinner and for the majority of the car ride home. Even thinking his name makes the dark parts of me throb with irritation.
Emery glances away from the camera, wiggling her hips and pushing the cock in the tiniest amount. My jaw aches with how hard I clench it, my cock so hard in my pants that I have to recline back to give it space.
“I just…I need this. And I need you to watch.” She bites her lip, then seems to make a decision about something because she turns to look at the camera, some of the haziness in her eyes clearing.
“I used to have someone who liked to watch, and I miss…that. Knowing his eyes were on me while I was being—while I came. It just made it more, somehow. I want that again. If that’s okay? ”
The little self-deprecating shrug she does seems to make her shrink in on herself, like an account called EyesOnYou wouldn’t want to watch what she is offering.
Me: Of course that’s okay, baby girl. I just wanted to make sure you were doing this because it is something you want, not because you think I want it.
“Are you trying to talk her out of it?” Darcy mutters from beside me. He, too, is reclining.
Emery’s gaze flickers over the chat and her breathing hitches.
“She needs to know she doesn’t have to do this,” I state, not willing to budge on this. Emery needs to understand that she has all the power here. Maybe not all the information, but definitely all the power.
She can make this stop whenever she wants.
“I know, and I do want this. I think I’ve wanted it all day. I…can I ask you something?” Her hazel eyes are wide, and her bottom lip disappears into her mouth.
Me: Anything. Always.
“Can I, I mean, what do I call you? Are you a daddy?”
The way she stumbles over her words has my heart in my throat. She misses us.
Me: Daddy is perfect. Feel free to moan it as loud as you need to.
Me: And there is no need to beg or ask for permission.
Me: You make that pretty little pussy come all over that cock as slow or as fast as you like.
She squirms in place before she presses a little more of the cock into her, her pussy opening wider around it. “I’m only allowed to use the fourth setting.”
Three heads whip around to glare at Hudson.
“Explain.” My demand cracks between the three of us.
Hudson raises an eyebrow at us. “It was the second rule. She’s only allowed to use the fourth setting.”
I think about all the toys that we have access to and feel my frustration at him build. “Four is too far down the list for it to be any sort of consistent pattern.”
“Fuck, it’s like a fucking triangle,” Darcy sputters, looking at something on his phone. “She’ll never be able to orgasm from that. It’ll only be half a second on the maximum setting.”
“Daddy, can I start now?” Emery wiggles some more, then reaches down to push the whole cock into her pussy, until the external arm rests against her clit. “Oh, god, so full.”
Her voice snaps me back to her live, my stomach twisting with heat and worry for her. This is going to be torture, and in her very clearly wound-up state, with none of us there…fuck.
No, she’ll be fine. People have solo orgasms around the world every day. There are probably hundreds of people having solo orgasms right here in this city, literally right now.
It’s fine. She’ll be fine.
Me: Yes, baby girl. You can start. Stick to the rules that you have.
Her fingers fumble over the curved end until she finds the button, and the sudden short and loud vibration that signals that it is on makes her eyes widen impossibly and her mouth drop open.
Emery pants for several seconds as a low hum starts up.
“Setting one. Low continuous,” Darcy murmurs, eyes glued to my TV.
We are all glued to the TV.
Her stomach contracts as she presses the button to change the setting.
“Two. High continuous.”
Emery’s chin drops and her eyes close, squeezing so tightly together her brow furrows, her entire body curling toward the vibrations. “Oh my god, oh my god.”
She manages to press the button again, moving to the third setting. The vibrations instantly die down.
“Three. Gentle wave.”
They build again slowly, but never quite hitting a peak, which seems to give Emery a bit of a reprieve. She drops her head back on the pillow and appears to be psyching herself up for the last setting change.
Maybe some gentle encouragement?
Me: Come on, baby girl. I know you can do this. One more press, and you can let that toy do its job.
Me: Just one more, baby. You can do this.
Something must alert her to my messages. She lifts her head, fingers still wrapped around the base, eyes glancing at the screen, before she takes a deep breath and makes the final setting change.
“Four. Triangles.”