“I did. I promise nothing you say will shock me.” I need this, I realize. I need her honesty and vulnerability. I need her trust.
She heaves a sigh. “It’s just… um, remember how I said at the arcade that it wasn’t going to happen for me? That’s kind of just oral in general for me. The meds make it hard for me to get out of my own head, you know? I know what I like, so I can usually come when I touch myself, but when someone else tries with their hands or mouth… I dunno. I guess I get too far in my head about it, and I’m worried it’s taking too long, or you’re getting bored or something.” Her eyes dart away.
My heart seems to swell. I feel oddly thrilled by her confession, like it created a possibility I didn’t dare hope for.
I want to be the only one who knows how to please her—to be the only one who ever really has. I want to be the only one who can make her scream, who can evoke primal reactions from her body. I want to be able to turn her on with nothing but a whisper of a memory. I want to be inside her in every way—body and mind. I want her to feel me in her marrow.
My head pounds as my desire rises in my veins in a hot wave. My cock swells against my leg, tight and painful with nowhere to go. I lean into that flash of discomfort, because this isn’t about me right now.
“Madison, look at me.”
She does, and the soft, shuttered fear in her eyes burns me. She needs to relax—there’s too much psychological pressure for her around the idea of orgasming. Perhaps in the past, someone made her feel like her pleasure was just an achievement to be collected by whoever made it happen.
Pleasure is often the goal, but for the naturally submissive—as I suspect Madison is, deep down—there’s a release in the simplicity of giving in. When a world of choice narrows toobeyorresist, the brain shuts off. It reduces anxiety. It triggers relief.
But it requires trust. She needs to let herself feel anchored to me.
“Madison,” I say. The repeated use of her name and unflinching eye contact are two important steps in making myself into the anchor she needs and that I’m desperate to be. “I’m going to taste you becauseI can’t get the thought of it out of my head. If you come, I’ll be thrilled, but I want youwet. Because once you’re ready for it, I’m going to do my very best to use this toy to make you scream. If it’s not in the cards, well… it’ll be a hell of a lot of fun trying, won’t it?”
Her small, genuine smile feels like a win.
“Now,” I say, squeezing her thighs in the creases of my elbows until she gasps, “use your safe word or lie back. Up to you.”
Goosebumps prickle across her skin. “What’s my safe word?”
“Red and yellow should suffice,” I say, knowing she’ll understand the traffic light system if she doesn’t need clarification on the concept of safe words.
“Boring—” she sings.
“Classic,” I counter.
“—but it’ll do,” she finishes, settling back.
“There’s my good girl.” I wink.
She shivers, and I don’t think it’s because she’s cold.
I’ve been dying for another taste of this—of her. All others have been far too brief. I take my time, pressing a trail of kisses along her inner thighs and smiling against the softest skin I’ve ever felt as she twitches under my light touches. It’s only once her breath starts heaving in and out that I finally make contact, and she hisses at the touch. I groan into her, my lips vibrating against her tender spot. She tastes so fucking divine—it’s a goddamn honor and pleasure to have her in my mouth.
I’m thorough and languid as I lick around her clit, keeping my touch indirect to keep her on the edge of anticipation. When her body starts producing slippery evidence of her arousal, I have to tear myself away.
I grab the vibrator. I designed it to stay in place hands-free, and the shaft end that goes inside is flat and smooth enough that I’ll still be able to fuck her when we’re using it. Not this time, though, and not just because I promised to take my time with her—I need to be able to focus and watch how it affects her. I’ll never be able to think straight with my cock inside her. Especially not if something is vibrating next to me while I am.
That does give me another idea, though. Dual control. Perhaps a remote option as well…
I slide it inside her, line it up with her clit, and start it with a click of the center button. She gasps, and the sound is deep, guttural, and accompanied by an instantaneous full-body spasm. “Whoa,” she cries, reaching down as if to move the vibrator away.
“Too much?”
She giggles, wiggling her hips like it tickles. “Yeah, a little. Start gentler, maybe build to the more intense setting as my nerves adjust.”
I press the button twice more, making a mental note to add some more variability in speed. Right now it only has three. She settles against me, her giggles melting into low groans and musical whimpers. I catalog how her face screws up and how tightly she shuts her eyes as I move the device around to find the right spot. It takes a moment, but I can sense the shift as her body wakes up and she starts to truly get into the sensations. When I change the setting to medium, her eyes fly open and meet mine.
“Wesley,” she cries. “¡Dios mio!”
Pride swells, and my whole body tightens at the raw desire caught in her throat. I was already so fucking hard, but now my cock is straining, impossibly harder and leaking precum all in my trousers. Good thing the cameras are streaming this right to my personal cloud—I can already tell I’m going to play this back again and again.
I lean forward, stretching my body over hers, and smooth her hair back from her forehead. I rest my palm on top of her head and smile down at her. “You like it?”
