27. Phoebe
Chapter twenty-seven
Phoebe
H oly fuck, he’s huge! I watch Sinclair walk away toward the ensuite washroom, and my knees tremble. There’s an air of authority and dominance about him, and it makes my mouth water. He doesn’t seem to be fazed by any of this, unlike me who’s ready to run screaming. A thought pops into my head and pulls an obnoxious cackle from my lips. “Everything alright, Phoebe?” Chad inquires, as he adjusts one of the lights. “Peachy, it’s just that he’s the Hulk, and there is no way in heaven that he is fitting into the undies I left him.” The thought of the size of what might be underneath those jeans he’s wearing makes my core seize, and my thighs clench. He’s a really big boy, and even with the mask on, I’m attracted to what I see. Jack and his beanstalk, fuck. Maybe I should try to climb him like a damn tree. Thank fuck I use all different size toys in my shows. I have a feeling having sex with him is going to hurt so good.
“He is a big fella, strong too. You sure about all this, Phoebe? Just say the word, and I’ll get him out of here if you’re not comfortable.” Chad stares at me with compassion, and it makes me so grateful that I work where everyone supports each other. For a second, the thought of calling this all off enters my mind, but just as I open my mouth to speak, the door to the ensuite opens, and Sinclair strides out, looking confident, and rocking the four-leaf clover boxers, and I can’t contain myself. I laugh so hard I can’t breathe, and tears leak from my eyes, getting trapped below the mask. “They might be a little on the small size,” Sinclair groans, as he attempts to cover his massive junk, and stands barefoot a few feet away from Chad and me. Jesus, he’s going to split me open with that tree trunk he has in between his legs. My throat bobs up and down at just the thought of having to ride that thing. Lube! We are going to need a massive amount of lube, or I won’t be able to walk for a week.
He’s pale, but with defined muscles, no, that’s an understatement. The man is built like Jason Momoa in Aquaman, but Sinclair might actually have more muscles. Is that glitter? Where the hell did he get glitter from? My mouth opens and closes, and I must be projecting my thoughts ’cause he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck in awkwardness. “I... I noticed a theme... and I have a few... gnarly scars... from when I was in the war,” he comments, as he strides closer and shrugs his broad shoulders. He was in the war and he got hurt? It dawns on me that I really know nothing about the man I am about to allow inside of me. Alarm bells start to blare, like the horn from the purge, inside of my head, and I can feel panic rising inside of me once more.
“Okay, you two, just over here, let’s get some test shots. Phoebe, can you get up on the bed and drape yourself across Sinclair?” I nod my head at Chad, even though I’m not a hundred percent sure what he just asked me to do. My mind is still screaming at me that I’m insane. I step forward, my mouth completely dry, and I squeeze my hands into fists, to pre vent showing the two men in the room how freaked out I am. “Phoebe, you’ll have to lose the robe.”
Lose the robe? I stare down at myself and notice the thick white robe, my only source of defense between myself and their eyes. Sinclair’s warm hand reaches for one of my clenched fists, and he brings it between both of his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my knuckles. His hazel eyes meet my terrified ones, and something about the way he looks at me, and the gesture, has the trapped breath in my chest releasing. “Take your time, álainn , there’s no rush. We do this the way you’re comfortable with, or not at all.“ His voice has a soothing, reassuring edge to it, and once again, I have that feeling like I have known him for a long time. We could have been friends before this, had we met under different circumstances. You’re projecting. Get it together, bitch. You have a job to do. This is not all fun and games.
I pull my hand back and reach for the belt of the robe, allowing it to open and removing it from my shoulders, until it reveals all of me and my outfit, and I am holding it in one hand. “Holy fuck,” Sinclair groans, and the way he takes a step back, and his muscles ripple, makes me feel good about myself. I place the robe on a chair, and move toward the bed with more confidence. I can feel two sets of eyes on me, but the only ones I’m focused on are my masked Irish shadow. I climb onto the side of the bed, trying to portray sexiness and grace, and almost succeed in breaking my neck, as I slide all over the damn fake golden coins, and Sinclair has to reach out and grab me, so I don’t fall off.
“Ohmygod!” I shriek, as one of his large hands grasps my forearm to steady me, while the other wraps around my waist and tugs me into his body. Mortification fills me, and I feel my skin burning under his touch. He yanks me closer, until the heat coming off his skin is melting into mine, and his clean scent fills my nostrils. Something about it tries to pull at a memory, but I don’t have time for that now, as Sinclair climbs gingerly on to the bed, with me still tucked into his large frame. His head leans down until his mask brushes my ear. “You are the sexiest little leprechaun I have ever seen. I can’t wait to use those suspenders to tie you up, so I can feast on that sweet pussy.”
My pussy is instantly soaked at the growly naughty tone in his voice, as he tells me what he’s going to do to me. I turn to stare into his eyes, and now I regret asking him to wear the mask. I want to see his face, and his expression, as he utters dirty things to me. “Soon, beautiful. Very soon, I’m going to feast on you, so let’s get this photo stuff over with.” I nod my head and turn back to listen to Chad’s instructions, but I can’t stop replaying Sinclair’s words in my mind, and all the apprehension, and fear, I was feeling has been replaced by need, and arousal.
For the next forty minutes, which feel like a lifetime, we do exactly what Chad tells us to do, moving around the bed into positions that just seem to increase the heat, and force me to swallow my moans. The last position had Sinclair’s fingers inside my panties, caressing my pussy lips, while he grasped one of my breasts, and there was no way he couldn’t feel how drenched I was. The inside of my thighs are slick, and the sheer material of my panties is doing very little to disguise that. My body is strung tight, and I know if I get the chance to touch my throbbing clit, I’m going to explode. This is by far one of the most sinful things I have ever done. “Last one, guys. Sinclair, if you’re comfortable, can you pull your boxers down, and let Phoebe lick at your slit?” Chad’s words have me choking on air, and Sinclair has to tap my back to get me to breathe again. Oh. My. Fucking. God.
He doesn’t hesitate to pull the waistband of the too-tight underwear down, until the purple mushroom crown of his cock is visible, and my mouth waters at the sight. I’ve only ever given one blow job to a man before. I’m not sure my toys actually count. Sinclair wraps his large hand aro und my neck, carefully pulling my face closer to his cock. A glint of something catches my eye, but before I can make out what it is, my lips are pressed against the head of his cock, and my tongue is snaking out and giving it a lick. “Fuck,” he groans, and his fingers tighten. I can hear the sound of Chad’s camera clicking, but it’s white noise. All I care about is bringing this man pleasure. I lick him again, allowing my tongue to trace the perimeter of his cock head, as he moans and strains on his knees. His chiseled abs ripple with every movement and groan, and beads of precum slip from his slit. “You keep doing that, naughty girl , and I’m going to force you to take me to the back of your throat.”
I wink up at him as my tongue laps at the ridge of his crown, and it meets metal. I go to pull back, but Sinclair’s hold keeps me right where he wants me. “Open, little cailleach , you want to play with me? Let me show you how I’ll punish you.“ My lips open wide, as he pushes more of his cock inside of my mouth, until his musky, salty taste is overwhelming all of my senses. I hollow my cheeks as I suck him deep into my mouth, and position my body so I can take more of him down my throat. “That’s it, good girl , swallow me down. Fuck, your throat is so tight and warm.“ His little groans are so fucking sexy, and the need to hear more of them has me pushing my mouth further down his shaft, until I’m choking and gagging on his cock, and saliva is slipping from the corners of my lips. I can feel how he’s holding back, his fingers applying the barest pressure on my neck, as his other hand digs into the hair at my nape. He uses his grip to force me up and down a little more, bobbing over and over on his cock, as I lose track of time and space. “That’s it, baby, choke on me, show me how you can take it,” he murmurs in a growly tone. The lack of air burns my chest, but still, I can’t force myself to stop. He tastes amazing, and I want more of him. My empty core clenches with the need to be filled up, and my little nub begs to be tou ched. I’m trying to create friction for myself, as I press my thighs together against the soaked sheer fabric, but it’s just not enough, I need more. I need him to touch me, and to fill me up with his thick, long cock.
“Um, guys . Yeah, not to interrupt ’cause, obviously, you’re having a great time, but I’m done . Yeah, I’m just going to go.“ I hear Chad’s chuckles as he moves away from us, and the door closes softly in his wake. I pull back, my brain foggy with lust and the lack of air, and stare at Sinclair. His thumb swipes at my bottom lip, cleaning off some of my spit, and his precum. “You’re perfect, you know that? My perfect little cum slut.”
I want to lick him all over, and rip that stupid mask off his face and kiss him. I go to reach for the mask, but his hand leaves my nape and grabs it, stopping its motion. “Don’t we have to do a video or something? That guy Chad is gone. Is someone else coming in here?” Video? Chad? Someone else? It’s like my muddled brain can’t process any of the information before me. All it wants is more of him. “Phoebe... fuck, baby, I want you so much,” he growls as his hands trail down my chest, until he’s cupping both my breasts in his large hands, and playing with my nipples, pulling and twisting them until I cry out, with the bite of pain and pleasure mixed perfectly together. “Video or not, beautiful, make a decision before I make it for you.”
Shit, the video! I pull back, and he instantly releases his grasp on my breasts, and a devastated whimper escapes me at the lack of his touch. Every part of me is on fire, and my senses are overwhelmed and filled with him. This is so much more amazing than I thought it could be. When I pictured this happening in my head, it was awkward and weird being with a stranger, but Sinclair doesn’t feel like a stranger. I can’t explain it, he feels like he belongs to me as much as, at this moment, I belong to him. I k now that’s probably just lust talking, but right now, I don’t care.
“Camera!” I growl, as I get off the bed unsteadily, my eyes wide as I search the room for the two camera tripods Monty set up. My glance sets on one, and I almost trip over my stupid heels, trying to get to it. “Easy, beautiful, before you hurt yourself,” Sinclair shouts from the bed, and I look over my shoulder at him. He’s half on the bed, half off, ready to spring to save me from myself. I point at the camera, my breathing rapid and my voice hoarse. “Camera… one sec.”
I almost fall again, sliding this time on one of the stupid fake coins, and catch myself at the last minute, before I smack my face on the equipment all around me. “Take off the shoes, Phoebe, before you break your pretty face!” Sinclair roars, but I’m already making my way to the second camera, after pressing the button to record on the first. “No, they’re sexy!” I pout, as I hit the button on the second camera, and turn back toward the bed. “ You’re sexy. You don’t need the damn shoes,“ Sinclair argues, and once again, I wish I could see his face.
“Take off the mask. I want to see you,” I demand, at the end of the bed, and wait with bated breath for him to comply. This is it, the moment I get to see my sexy Irish shadow, and I get to put a face to the seductive voice, and that amazing body, not to mention that huge cock I can still feel the effects of in my throat.