Chapter 4 #2
My phone clicks softly as I prop it up on the bedside table, its red recording light blinking.
Up close her tits are gorgeous, just the right size for her slender frame, round and firm with a honey brown shade that sets them apart from the rest of her body.
I wonder if the skin covered by her bikini bottoms is the same color.
Her nipples are dark and protruding, larger than I expected.
I bet they’re sensitive. They practically taunt me, daring me to bite down and see if she gasps or cries out.
I want to leave my teeth marks on those perfect curves, sink in just hard enough to make her flinch and wonder if I’ll do it again.
I grab the top of her dress, dragging the fabric over her skin slowly enough to make her shiver.
I ease the dress down, and she raises her hips to help me get it off.
I toss it towards her clothing hamper, but it slides off and lands on the floor.
My heart hammers in my chest as I look down at her nearly naked body.
I’m only inches away from all the parts I want to touch.
I kick my shoes off and climb onto the bed, making sure to lie so that she is in clear view of the camera. I lay my hand on the silky skin of her abdomen and place my head next to her ear. Her smell invades my brain, a hint of coconut oil with a top note of vanilla.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
“Good,” she says softly.
“You like when I touch you?”
“Yeah.”
My right hand covers her breast, gently pushing hers out of the way. I feel the heat of her body against my palm as I squeeze and mold her flesh. Her tits are firm, and her skin is like silk. I lightly trace her areola, and she arches her back, trying to get more contact.
“How about when I touch your tits? Does that feel good?”
“No,” she says, sulkily.
“Why don’t you like it?”
“You don’t touch my nipples.”
“You want me to touch your nipples?”
She nods.
“Can I pinch them? Tell me out loud.”
“Yes, you can pinch them.”
“How about if I suck them, is that ok?”
“Um hmm.”
I have enough recorded now that I could stop if blackmail was my only purpose, but I don’t want to stop.
Let’s not pretend I’m better than I am. A good guy wouldn’t be working for the guy I’m working for.
A good guy wouldn’t take advantage of her like this.
She’s giving me come hither looks, and stroking my chest, but I’d have to be an idiot not to realize her change in behavior is probably because she’s high out of her mind.
I’ve already crossed the line by touching her tits, so why pretend stopping here will make a difference?
I mean I’m not going to fuck her, but in for a penny, in for a pound.
I take her nipple between my lips, sucking firmly, then lashing it with my tongue. She moans when I graze them with my teeth, but I want to hear her yelp. I pinch the side of her breast and her breath hitches, but she doesn’t cry out like I expected.
I bite down hard on her nipple, and she moans, digging her nails into my biceps. I’m being rough, and in response she’s threaded her hand through my hair to encourage me.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, lifting my head.
“Yes,” she says, breathlessly, “but don’t stop.”
It’s surprising and such a turn that she has this kink.
The leash on my desire is getting very short.
My cock feels like it’s going to break my zipper.
It’s hard to hold back when she’s responding like this.
I can already feel the heat radiating from between her legs.
I need to explore more of her tight body and see what happens if I push hard enough to make it really hurt.
I sit back and drag my hand down her tummy, watching her squirm a little under my touch.
Her panties are still on. I spread her legs wider and slap her pussy hard through the fabric.
She jerks and gasps. Her thighs twitch, and for a second I think she might close her legs—but she doesn’t.
Her body settles, her legs stay open, and her breathing picks up.
I stare down at her, and she’s still watching me. Her eyes are heavy but alert. I slap harder. Her hips buck, and she lets out a strangled moan, but still she doesn’t close her legs.
“Why did I like that?” she moans. Her expression is puzzled, a little dazed—but there’s more curiosity than confusion in her eyes when they lock with mine. “Do it again.”
I raise my hand and spank her through the fabric, this time landing squarely on her clit. She cries out and bites her lip hard, her hips twisting as her body tries to ride it out. Her legs stay open, though, as if in invitation. I can’t wait anymore.
“Lift your hips,” I tell her.
She does it, and it’s easy to slide her white panties down and off.
I push her legs wide open, her flexibility allowing them fall to the sides with no resistance.
She lies there completely exposed, her thighs splayed at an almost unnatural angle.
I pick up the phone and her bedside lamp so I can get a clear shot of her naked body, especially her little pussy.
“Can you straighten your legs?” I ask. “Like you’re doing the splits.”
Who would have guessed Deja could be such a good girl? She smiles teasingly and stretches her legs until they’re flat against the bed in a perfect center split. Dark chocolate lips pull apart, exposing her soft, coral pink opening.
I adjust my dick, trying to find a position that works, but there’s no way to make that hungry monster fit comfortably in my pants, so I strip off my jeans and underwear. The sense of relief is quickly surpassed by the aching throb of arousal.
I pull her to the edge of the bed and prop the phone against a pillow, angling it toward her face.
The important thing is to capture her reaction.
I kneel next to the bed and gently separate her labia with my thumbs.
She has a neat patch of pubes on her mound and a line of fine, soft hair on the inner edges her labia. Everything else is shaved for swimwear.
“What are you doing?” she asks, drowsily.
“I’m gonna lick you out.” I say.
“Mmm. Jayden did that one time.”
“Who’s Jayden?”
“My ex.” There’s a reason for that, I’m sure. I’m not intimidated by her past, I just don’t want her thinking about him while I’m with her.
“You won’t remember him in two minutes,” I say.
“You’re so arrogant,” she says, chuckling. “Jayden’s a quarterback.”
“I don’t care what he is. This body isn’t his anymore. Now keep your legs open.”
“I am!” She’s not. Her legs are drifting lower, but at my urging she does the splits again, grumbling inaudibly. Then clearly, “What’s the fucking hold up? Do it already.”
“You sound a little thirsty.”
“Will you just put your tongue in already?”
I smile, thinking about what this will sound like on playback. Deja Marcus begging me to eat her out.
Her pussy smells like heaven, but the opening looks barely big enough to fit my finger.
Well, we’re going to find out, aren’t we.
I dive right in, plunging my wide tongue into her narrow passage, feeling her walls clench around me in resistance.
I stiffen my tongue and stab deeper, wiggling it around inside her.
She tastes delicious. Not like candy or fruit or any of that bullshit.
She tastes like pussy—clean, fresh, aroused pussy. She moans and circles her hips subtly.