If I have to ask whether I should stop, I think that means the answer is yes.
Her hands fly out to grip my wrists as her eyes pop open, stopping me before I can pull all the way out of her.
“Please don't.”
She doesn't beg me with the same voice she begged me to fuck her with. This one is different, less needy, more... broken. The sadness confuses me, but not my cock. I'm throbbing, desperate with the need to move.
“Don't stop.” She confirms, letting go of me slowly, as if she's prepared to grab me again if I move too far from her. “Just... keep going.”
Something about it feels wrong, but not to my body. Her quivering pussy is begging me to keep going, and the thought of disappointing her is suddenly unbearable.
“But you're crying…”
“It doesn't matter.” She wipes at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “Please, keep going.”
There's no denying the earnestness in her voice or the pleading look in her watery eyes, so big and beautiful, as she asks me to do what I want to do more than anything else in this moment.
I nod, and she manages the faintest smile before settling back down as I resume my thrusts.
I don't know when it happens. I have to close my eyes to try and stave the pleasure off for as long as I can, but when I open them next, her tears have stopped. Her lips are parted ever so slightly, catching and calling back the same breath that escapes her every time I thrust in.
My hips piston against hers until my motions become frantic, sloppy as I try to hold onto the silky pleasure just a moment longer.
When I come, gasping, she gasps too.
I know it's not an orgasm—I didn't know if she'd like me to give her one this time. But the sound is still very much full of relief and satisfaction.
Her eyelids slowly peel open to find me watching her, still buried deep inside as I pump every drop of myself into her.
“Almost done.” I tell her, pressing my lips to her stomach as I unsheathe myself from inside of her.
She's silent still as I watch her pussy expectantly, waiting to see our combined juices drip from her hole.
I rub slow circles on her thigh as I wait, and a moment later, I get what I want.
My cum leaks from her pretty pussy, sending a little thrill through me as I dip my thumb in the mixture and slide it around her holes, painting first her clit and then her ass, which puckers beneath my touch.
I tear my eyes from the art I've made of her and catch her eyes open now, watching me quizzically.
“Sometimes I'd stay like this, just playing with you until I'm ready to go again.” I tell her. “Other times I use it to make you come, too.”
Her breathing is rapid as I coast back to collect more of my cum, dragging it to circle her clit harder.
I see from my peripherals as her toes curl.
“Can I make you come?”
21
Amber
The answer to that should be a firm, resounding no.
No, I do not want my captor to make me come. No, I do not want you to ask me if I want to come.
But the truth is, I do want that. I just doubt that he can.
I think there's something wrong with me in that I've never been able to come with another partner.
