Chapter 3 Little Exhibitionist #2
“Bend me over your bed,” I demanded, nipping at his bottom lip until he hissed. “I need it hard and fast, Gussy.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, the good boy. He spun me and pressed me forwards until my palms hit his plain navy comforter. Kicking my legs apart, his thumb found my opening, pressing inside. I tried not to wince at the friction.
“Sure you don’t want me to eat you first? You’re not exactly … ready …”
“You keep a bottle of lube in your sex drawer, don’t you?” I asked, voice desperate. “I really, really just need you deep inside me.”
“Uh … yeah, I do.” His voice was uncertain, but the drawer opened, and I heard the splat of squirted lube, felt the cool wet slide of it against my pussy. I instantly relaxed. I needed this. I needed fast, and dirty, and not thinking about anything for the next few minutes.
When he pushed inside me, he wasn’t gentle, and I went up on my toes to find an angle that accommodated his length. He’d never been one for a slow ease in, and most times we’d fucked in the past, that had been okay with me … because he’d thoroughly prepped me with his agile tongue.
But I didn’t want that right now. I just wanted him to fuck away all the thoughts in my head. Just a few minutes of blissful silence inside my brain.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, Ri,” he grunted, fingers digging into my buttocks. “Too long without a cock in you …”
I barked out a laugh. “You think women don’t do penetration? Have you never heard of strap-ons? Double-ended dildos?” I thought about Nikolai and the orgasm I’d given myself the night before.
He thrust harder. “You just got wetter … you’re picturing girls fucking, aren’t you, Ri?”
No, I wasn’t. It would just make me think of Rumi, and she was one of the things I wanted to fuck out of my brain. I reached between my legs, finding my clit and circling it with two fingers. “Right now, I’m getting off on how big you feel inside me.”
He groaned, pulling out and thrusting harder, the wet squelch of his cock inside me replacing conversation.
Complimenting a man’s size—always a guaranteed way to get him to forget his train of thought.
I moved my fingers frantically on my clit.
He was really going for it, and at this rate, I was not going to get there before him.
Closing my eyes, I pictured the man and his wife from the Tickle post I’d watched the night before. The way he’d cupped her cheek with one hand, the thumb of his other finding her clit and stroking as he fucked her.
And then I pictured the black-haired hottie from the pool earlier, his curls bouncing on his forehead as he loomed over me, fucking me slowly, gazing at me like that man had gazed at his wife …
My body thrummed, edging closer and closer to pleasure when Gus let out a shuddering grunt, shaking as his hips thrust wildly against my butt, and he emptied into the condom.
“Did you get yours?” he panted, pulling out of me.
“Almost.” I rolled onto my back, spreading my legs and finding my pulsing clit. “Watch me, that will help.”
With the full condom still covering his waning erection, Gus’s eyes fell to my pussy. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, the sheen of sweat gleaming on his chest.
“Such a little exhibitionist, Ri,” he rumbled. Usually that would have stoked my desire, but I found myself blocking him out, my eyes sliding shut again, returning to my fantasy about my pool stranger.
I let out a tiny, gasping cry as my orgasm crested, clit throbbing against my fingers, and when I opened my eyes, Gus was watching me, an odd expression on his face as he reached for a tissue and removed the condom.
“I heard that Linc asked for your resignation today,” he said, stabbing his legs into his boxer briefs and taking a seat on the bed beside me. I closed my legs, sitting up, my back to him. So much for forgetting things for a bit.
“Yeah, well, we all knew it was coming. Can’t work without a current visa.”
“Are you going home?”
I’d never said much to Gus about my visa situation. I’d never said much to him at all except, ‘You have a nice dick’, and ‘Wanna meet up and fuck tonight?’
But something made me blurt out a scrap of honesty.
“I’m trying not to. But I’ll run out of money eventually …”
“Have you heard of that app, Tickle?” he asked. I paused halfway off the bed towards my clothes.
“Yeah. Why?” I turned back to look at him. His cheeks were red, and not just from his recent orgasm.
“Well, if you want to make money, anywhere in the world, I mean … like, without needing a work visa … you could always create content.” He slipped his T-shirt back over his head.
“I have an account—not even a very good one—and I make a couple hundred bucks a week. It’s not much, but it’s enough to supplement my income from the swim school.
I reckon you could make so much more—women do crazy well on it, from what I’ve heard. ”
I raised an eyebrow. “What sort of content do you make? You’re not secretly filming your fuck buddies, are you?” I was only half joking as I exaggeratedly scanned the room for a concealed webcam.
He let out a shocked chortle. “Jesus! No! I never show my face … it’s mostly just me jacking off, cum shots on my abs, that sort of thing.”
I tugged my bag closer to the bed with a toe, reaching in to find my phone. “And that gets you followers?” I pulled up the app then looked over at him. He was beet red, but nodding.
“Lots of blokes seem to like it.”
I shrugged. “Lots of blokes like dick … and a lot of them will only admit it when they’re hiding behind a screen.” I opened my profile, eyes flicking to the icon at the top right that said become a creator.
“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna complain. If they want to pay me to blow a load on my own stomach, who am I to judge?”
“Right?” I agreed, thumb hovering over the button. Before I did something rash, I locked my phone and stuffed it back into my bag.
“Exactly how anonymous are you, on there?” I asked.
I shouldn’t be considering this … it was very risky, not only because of my impending illegal immigrant status.
I couldn’t help thinking about who back home might end up seeing me on there when I wanted more than anything to disappear without a trace from their crosshairs.
Gus shrugged. “Well, I don’t show my face, and my username is SoggyAbs69 …
” I hadn’t thought he could get any redder, but apparently I was wrong.
“And you can set your location to private, so they don’t know where I’m from.
I feel comfortable that no one will know it’s me … unless I tell them, of course.”
I nodded, standing and pulling on my clothes. “And … it definitely doesn’t need a visa …?”
He shook his head. “Why would it? It’s an international app. You can work and earn from anywhere in the world.”
“Well …” I toed on my sandals and tightened my ponytail. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll think about it.” I headed for the door. “And thanks for the orgasm.”
Gus snorted. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
I managed a small smile as I let myself out of his dorm room.
Later that night, once Kat was well and truly tucked into bed, and the apartment was silent, I opened my internet banking. My account was by no means empty—I’d been very careful with my spending over the last four years on the off-chance that I had the guts to do what I was about to do.
I’d been given an allowance from home, a fairly generous one, since I came to Australia.
But they didn’t know about the other account I’d opened, or the ATM withdrawals I’d been making and depositing into that other account.
There were people I was trying to avoid back home.
They thought they had me on a long leash, but really, I only gave them the illusion of financial control.
They trusted I was obedient, convinced their money meant that if I ever stepped out of line, they could cut me off, and I’d be on the first flight back to Bucharest.
They were wrong.
But the money I’d squirrelled away would only last me so long. All too soon, I would be in a situation where I’d have no choice but to admit defeat and return to the shitshow that was my life back in Romania.
But no one was counting on me doing something absolutely crazy … and my family back home, they really had no idea just how outrageous a desperate-for-her-freedom Irina Rusnac could be.
I took a deep breath and lifted my phone, opening the Tickle app. Before I could think twice, I tapped the ‘become a creator’ icon.
And when I was done, I sent a message to Gus.
Ri: Officially a Tickle creator. No idea how to make content though
Ri: Want to do a post together? You owe me an O …
Gus: I dunno
Ri: Oh, come on!
Ri: We can film it, and you can decide if it goes up or not.
Ri: Either way, we both get our rocks off.
Gus: Yeah … ok