CHAPTER SIX — STEPHANIE
"Now, because you've been such a good girl, I think you should get a reward. Don't you think?"
I nod, smiling.
"Where are your sex toys?" Philip asks.
I point to a box at the base of my nightstand. He goes over and rifles through it, pulling out my Hitachi wand. He plugs it in and turns it on.
I immediately sit up and reach for the toy, which is difficult given that my hands are tied.
"Turn it off," I hiss.
This toy is loud. It sounds like an excavator. It's so loud that I'm embarrassed to use it. The last time I used a vibrator in this house, David heard it through the floor and texted me about it. And that one was nowhere near this loud.
Philip moves the toy out of my reach, although it's not like I could have really grabbed it with my hands tied. He looks at me, an amused look on his face.
"Isn't that the whole point, though?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Being loud?"
Oh, right. I think I was so startled by the noise that I forgot. But still, maybe it's just the reality of the plan sinking in: the thought that David is going to hear us and know what I'm up to, or the thought that he'll punish me for it. God, I feel myself blush as the thought enters my mind.
Philip leans over me, grabbing my hands with one of his and pushing them back so they're against my bed. With the other hand, he moves the vibrator to my clit. Immediately, I feel pleasure radiate from the vibrations. My pussy clenches.
That delicious warmth begins to spread through me. I feel it intensifying as the tingling between my legs gets stronger. I've been so turned on and edged so much that I can tell it's not going to be long.
"Even if that wasn't the point, though," Philip says, whispering in my ear.
He presses the toy more firmly against me, and I gasp.
"I'd use this anyway, Stephanie. You know why? Because I want to be as loud as possible. I want to wake everybody in the neighborhood up with you screaming. And if you get embarrassed by that, that's even better. I love watching you squirm."
He presses it harder still, and an orgasm explodes through my body.
"Good girl," he says. "Now again."
He presses it into me and then sinks two fingers into my cunt. He curls them as he begins to pump.
"Come for me, Stephanie," he says.
I feel another orgasm mounting.
"You're such a good little slut," he says. "So pliable."
He moves the toy down a bit, and fireworks blind me as my body convulses.
"Good slut," he says. "I love watching you wiggle. I can't wait to watch you squirm as I fill you up with my cock. But I think I want to watch you have one more orgasm first."
"Please," I pant.
He presses the toy against me. I'm so sensitive.
"It's too—"
"Again," he says, cutting me off. "You'll stop when I say you've had enough."
His voice is a bit colder now. It scares me, but in a way that turns me on.
"You're going to orgasm again for me, Stephanie," he says, "whether you like it or not. Now be a good girl and come for me."
He adds another finger inside me and turns up the toy. It's so intense. I feel my body moving away from it, but I can also feel an orgasm building. It's the weirdest contradiction.
"Look at me, Stephanie," he says.
I look at him, and shame floods me. There's something so intimate about it, especially given the fact that I'm naked and tied up and he's fully clothed on top of me, and the one solely responsible for my pleasure.
"How does it feel," he says, "knowing I could turn this off at any time, that you're at my mercy right now?"
I close my eyes, shaking my head.
"Open," he says. "You're not used to being out of control like this, and now you are.
You're a slave to your body, a slave to me.
You can't lie or pretend. I see right through it — how desperate you are, how needy, how badly you want me.
Where's all that pride? It's gone. You're just a desperate little slut," he says. "Desperate for your next orgasm."
My cheeks are flushing.
"You don't have to say it," he says. "I know, and that's enough for me. Watching you get embarrassed and squirm as your body gives in. God, I'm hard just watching you. Now come for me."
He bites my ear and then kisses me. He pries my mouth apart with his, his tongue swirling against mine.
He pulls back for a second and looks into my eyes, and then bites my lower lip. My back arches.
"Good girl," he hisses, before capturing my mouth in his again.
His tongue slips into my mouth, and that's when I shatter. He kisses me harder as I orgasm, and everything fades away. My whole body goes limp.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he says.
I hear him unbutton his pants, and then feel his cock slide up and down my lips.
"You remember the safe word?" he says, looking up at me. "If you want to stop here, now is the time to use it."
I appreciate him checking in, but I definitely don't want him to stop.
"Keep going," I whisper.
"Good girl," he says.
He slides in and kisses me.
He begins thrusting rhythmically and fast. A feeling of fullness, of satisfaction, comes over me. He goes deep, filling up every inch of me. With his hands, he spreads my legs, and a second later, he lifts them onto his shoulders.
He unwinds the belt from my wrists and puts the wand in my hand.
"Use your vibrator," he says.
I turn on the toy and place it on my clit. He looks at me while his cock pumps in and out. He starts going faster, and my back arches. Oh my God.
"I want you to come again, Stephanie," he says.
"Again?"
I feel almost greedy.
"Some days I won't let you come at all, Stephanie," he says. "So take advantage of this."
A shiver runs through my body. The fact that he's already assuming this will be a recurring thing is insane, but I also like it. He wraps a hand around my neck and presses his thumb lightly into it, applying slight pressure.
"You take my cock so well," he says.
He reaches down and turns up the power on the toy. Pleasure shoots through me as my body is racked with contractions.
"Good girl," he says.
He starts pumping faster, at a rate that's somewhere between frantic and intense. When my orgasm fades, he moves the toy away and leans into me so that his upper body is on mine.
He squeezes my neck tighter and bites my lower lip. He gathers some of my hair and pulls. I moan.
"Fuck, I love the little noises you make," he says.
He pulls again, and another moan escapes as my back arches. He plunges deeper, his cock filling me.
"Are you ready for your third load of cum today, Stephanie?" he asks.
I nod.
"You're such a dirty girl," he says. "Getting passed around and stretched out. Don't worry, I'll make sure that you're constantly filled up."
He rubs my clit, which is sensitive. I gasp.
"Do you like that, Stephanie? Do you want to be my little cum slut?"
I murmur.
He thrusts into me once more and explodes. Hot cum gushes into me, and he stays inside me for a few seconds. I can feel his cock throbbing before he pulls out.
He does up his pants. I lie there, panting.
"Do you think that was loud enough?" he asks.
It takes me a second to reorient and figure out what he's talking about.
"Yeah, I think so," I say after half a beat.
"As wonderful as this has been," he says, "I need to go. I actually do have work I have to get to in a few hours."
I can't help but feel a little deflated.
He kisses me.
"You're perfect," he says. "But we're on the same page here, right?"
I nod, although I'm not really sure. I feel like he can sense my confusion.
"What I mean," he says, "is that I'm not expecting anything here. I'm dating casually. If this is a one-time thing, that's fine with me. And if you need to piss off your landlord another time, I'm happy to help."
"Oh, okay," I say. "I'm glad we're on the same page, then."
Part of me is relieved, while another part is slightly disappointed.
I'm relieved in part that there's no risk here.
I don't have to manage his emotions or expectations, which is something that's been a problem with most of the men I've dated.
He's not going to want more from me than I can give.
In fact, I feel like there's not much that would bother him.
And as much as I like that, I hate to say it, that kind of makes me frustrated. I want him to care now, which kind of sucks. The only men I respect enough to want in this way — the men I want to care — are the men who don't seem to care that much themselves in the first place.
Although, I don't get the sense that Philip doesn't care exactly. He's respectful, and he likes me. We've been friends for a while. It's more that he's not obsessed with me, or desperate. He can take it or leave it when it comes to me, which I respect. But it's almost borderline offensive.
Of course, I can never say that to him, given that I used him tonight. Still, it's complicated. I have a lot of feelings, and I'm not used to that. And on top of that, there's David.
"You good?" Philip asks.
I look at him and nod.
"If you weren't, would you tell me?"
I look at him.
"I'm not sure," I say.
"Thanks for being honest," he says. "Listen, I don't want to push you to open up if you don't want to. But if you do want to talk about things, or there's something you think of later that you want to say, you have my number."
I nod. He kisses me once more, then pulls back.
"I'm going to go now," he says, looking at me.
I inhale. I feel like I want to say something, but I don't know what. When I exhale, he smiles.
"Bye," he says.
The End