I put the bottle down and wander over to her. The internet said to consistently check for circulation when tying up a partner, especially if the appendage(s) is elevated above the heart, so I check her hands, her fingertips, make sure they’re still warm. She’s good.
Her head is tilted towards me, cheek pressed to the bed, her eyes almost all pupil, looking hopeful. Too bad. I step back, wind up, and slap the shit out of her ass again, putting a little more force behind this one, relishing in the way the red blooms, smoothing it away with my palm after admiring it and tracing the edges with my finger.
“Make me come, Dom,” she screams. Her entire body is writhing, trying for any sort of friction on her needy swollen clit.
“If you come before I say so, you’re going to regret it,” I warn.
I reach over to the bedside table and wrap myself up with the condom I put there. I bodily pick her up and flip her over, so that she’s on her back and her entire body is on the bed. I wrench her legs apart as she whimpers, tracing the wetness on the insides of her thighs. “Greedy,” I tell her. I’ve never seen a more beautiful thing.
Now up on my knees between her legs, I let saliva pool in my mouth. Then stick out my tongue and let it all drip off and down onto her clit, making the motion as lewd as possible, the strand obscene.
Her eyes are watching, unbelieving. “Fuck,” she whispers. “That’s the hottest?—”
She doesn’t continue, or can’t, because I shove two fingers into her mouth. “Make it wet,” I command. I scoop some more spit out of her mouth, hover my fingers above her clit, let her saliva drip down and mix with mine. I watch as it all drips down into her pussy.
Then I grip her thighs open and drive so deep she feels it in her throat.
“Fuck,” I manage to grit between clenched teeth, maybe regretting that in edging her for forty-five minutes, I’ve effectively done the same to myself. And now I’ve gone and shoved my dick into her sopping wet warmth. “Your pussy is insane.”
Lina is unable to answer me, incoherent at this point, pulling at her bindings and using it as leverage, grinding her body up and down on my dick with her heels on my ass, her clit scrambling for purchase on any part of my body.
I can sense we’re both operating on a hair-trigger at this point. Pushing up on my knees, letting her ass rest on my thighs and adjusting our angle, I wrap one hand around her throat, not choking (because I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that regardless of the amount of homework I do… I mean, how could you eventimesuch a thing?!) but gripping, and I know this is exactly what she needs because I feel her starting to tighten around me. “Fucking give it to me,” I grunt, maneuvering my other hand between us and pinching her clit.
She does, and lets out a groan from the very bottom of her stomach, her back arching fully off the bed, she’s soaked into the sheets at this point, and it takes my entire almost forty years of self-control to press deep and hold so she can grind on it and milk as much pleasure as she can get.
I need to give myself a little pep talk before starting to pump again. “You’re going to give me one more before I’m done, gorgeous,” I tell her. I search blindly around the bed for her little bullet vibrator, glad it’s still on and running when I find it because there’s no way in hell I could operate a switch right now.
“Oh god,” she mumbles. “Oh shit. Oh fuck.”
“One more,” I repeat, then hold it on her clit. She doesn’t take too long this time, seconds, really, but I make sure she’s wrung every ounce of pleasure from my dick before really starting to fuck her senseless, the force of my thrusts shaking the headboard, and when I come it’s a religious experience.
Giving me no choice but to take more advantage of this all-day babysitting thing. Turns out ‘letting go’ as a general concept works out pretty well. Smart girl.
* * *
I run into Georgia when I’m on my way into the school and she’s on her way out. “It’s been really fun seeing Frankie so much lately,” she tells me, after a quick hug.
I frown, thinking of the last Flores family gathering. “We haven’t seen you in like two weeks.”
“I see her almost every day in Lina’s office,” she says, walking down the steps. “I’ve brought her a few books I’ve found about the Titanic. Lina has quite the Titanic collection on her bookshelf now. It almost takes up an entire shelf.”
“What? Why is she in Lina’s office every day?”
“Oh,” Georgia says, after seeing the look on my face. “After school. She hangs out there most days.”
“Oh,” I echo.
“‘Kay, well, this isn’t awkward at all, and I wasn’t the one who told you!” she says, now walking backwards down the block. “See ya at Tita Tess’s this weekend, bye!”
I take a moment to gather myself before stepping foot into the building, untangling some of the more immediate feelings I’m having about this new bit of information. Questions stack on top of themselves in my brain, and I realize I shouldn’t have any sort of reaction until I get some answers.
But Frankie’s already in the lobby. “Hey, Daddy!”
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Ready to go?”
“I wanted to talk to Lina for a second. Is she in her office?”
