I could grab her hair, force her head down, clamp her jaw, hurting her until she opens her mouth and gives me access. The gentle touch doesn’t offer nearly enough stimulation, but I wait, still entranced by the thought of what she might do.
“Is that okay?”
“If we were in year ten, sure.”
She stops moving. The derogatory tone acting like a handbrake.
It’s not even true. If someone had offered to touch melike this in year ten, I would have been ecstatic, but I would have been equally thrilled in years eleven and twelve. Right until the moment my father rid himself of his old family to replace it with a sparkly new one, in fact.
From then on, my name alone has been enough to attract attention. The money. The notoriety. The power. It’s like girls think they can suck a piece of that straight out of my cock, even if I’m the Mark II version of the golden child.
A difference then to be touched by someone who’d probably rather be anywhere but here. Who’d rather she just be left alone.
“You need some lubrication, otherwise, you’ll rub my skin off.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flick up again to check I’m not kidding, then she gently moves her hand again. “Do you have like a tube or something?”
There’s always some hand cream within easy reach but that’s too simple a solution to suit my current mood. I want her tongue on me. “Most girls use their saliva.”
She stares at me with her brows furrowed, creating the cutest little V on the bridge of her nose. When I nod,believe me, she turns back to the job in hand. Moving a little to sit upright, she spits straight on my dick.
In a second my enthusiasm is replaced by revulsion.
“What the actual fuck?” I push her to the side, stripping off my shirt and using it to wipe myself clean. “Are you for real?”
“I-I… You s-said…”
“Bylickingit. Jesus.” I shake my head then stop, doubling over as I fight against the urge to dissolve into laughter. “Have you never given someone a hand job before?”
She moves away, hitching her knees up to her chest, looking equal parts worried and embarrassed. “Not with mytongue.I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“Come here.” I grab her by the back of the neck when she doesn’t move fast enough, dragging her back where she was. “You’re a virgin, yeah?”
George shakes her head so violently it’s like I just insulted her family going back ten generations.
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “But you’ve never—”
She cuts me off, blurting, “You don’t have to be so judgemental!”
I sit back for a second, trying to work out if this little Miss Nobody who’s only in my house because I saved her from the consequences of her father’s habits actually believes she’s living in some crazy parallel universe where it’s okay toshoutat me.
Because, no. It is not.
I stand, removing my trousers and boxers and tossing them in the hamper before coming back to the bed, mounting it from the side closest to her.
“Let’s get back to where we started, okay? You lie down and keep your trap shut. I’ll do whatever the fuck I like to you, then you can go home and lick your wounds.”
“You could explain.” She holds her arms in front of her like a shield. “I’m not as experienced as you but that doesn’t mean you have to shout at me for not knowing something. How else am I meant to learn?”
“Do I look like your fucking teacher?” I roll back on top of her, pinning her in place with my weight, staring into her narrowed eyes. “Learn on your own time.” I grab her jaw in one hand, pinching my fingers to grip it in place. “But fine. Lesson one. No. Fucking. Spitting. Okay?”
The force of my words means some spittle lands on her face, but I guess that’ll serve her as a reminder of why it’s so incredibly gross.
Detour over, I reach down with my other hand and slap herthighs apart. With her panties sliced and diced on the floor, only her stockings and suspenders remain in place, her heels catching on the sheets as she tries to move away.
“Wait!” Her voice is so full of panic that I stop, holding onto my last scrap of patience. “What about protection?”
And… I’m done.
