I want to please him. I want to see him let go, have that release.
I want him to feel as good as I do because of what I do for him.
I just don’t know how to tell him that.
I don’t know him, not in any real way, and I kind of want that, too. I suppose this is why I don’t see myself as a sex worker.
I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, I don’t think.
Since that first night, the night that was supposed to be a joke, I have felt connected to him.
I thought I’d run in, shimmy a little in his lap, snap a selfie, and run out. But I stayed.
I stayed, and I moved, and I dry humped him until I came into his lap.
The thought still embarrasses me. But here I am, for a seventh night, my body humming with anticipation.
Why does he want me to stay longer?
Is this the night he takes me entirely? Will I lose my virginity this way, to a man in a mask, a man who’s never even seen my face?
I get dressed in my thin, silk chemise and then pad barefoot into the room.
He is there, waiting, as usual.
His pristine, white dress shirt is unbuttoned two buttons, showing just the slightest peek of dark chest hair. His dark dress pants are unbuttoned and unzipped.
He still wears his mask.
“Um. Hello,” I say as I step inside and hit the button that begins our session. The door locks and the music starts.
“Ana,” he nearly growls. “Come sit on my lap.”
“No dancing tonight?” I ask.
“I think we’re past dancing, don’t you?” he asks.
I swallow back my nerves. I knew it would come to this. It could have been this since the beginning, but it hasn’t. He’s only ever given me pleasure. There’s no reason to think anything negative will happen.
But the air feels charged tonight. He feels…different.
I step toward him, and he reaches out, arm hooking around my waist, spinning me around, pulling me so my back is flush against his chest. His erection digs into my backside as he pushes my legs apart, fingers sliding up my thighs, then into my folds. His breath is hot against my neck, heart beating fast against my back.
“Are you okay, Nik?” I ask, hearing the trepidation in my own voice.
“Remember your safe word,” is his only answer.
An index finger pushes hard against my clit while the rest of his hand splays wide on my mound. Two fingers from his other hand slide into my pussy. I’m wet because he makes me feel that way, but I’m still startled by the quick intrusion.
“Relax,” he says against my ear.
A shiver rolls through me, head to toe.
“Spread wide for me,” he instructs.
My legs fall open, but I can’t untense. My body is frozen, shivers rolling through like waves.
“Safe word?” he purrs.
