She starts circling her clit with one finger. She makes small, slow circles at first that make her breathing change and deepen, then the circles get faster, and her hips start to move in time with her hand. She dips lower and pushes one finger inside her pussy, and the wet sounds of it moving in and out of her body fill theroom. She adds a second finger and pumps them steadily while her other hand works over her clit. I watch her hands move and her hips rock to meet each thrust.
The pressure in my nether region has gone from uncomfortable to agonizing. I grip the arms of the chair to keep myself from crossing the room and replacing her fingers with mine. She hasn’t given me permission to touch her yet.
Jessa moans, the sound breathy and desperate, her hips rocking faster, grinding against her own hand, while her fingers disappear inside her pussy and reemerge soaked.
“I’m close,” she says. “I want to see your cock as I come.”
I reach down to my groin and find the release points on either side of the plate – indentations that require specific pressure in a sequence to unlock. I press them, and the plate clicks and comes free from the magnetic locks, then I lift it and set it on the table. My cock springs free, massive, made entirely of steel, and slick at the tip. Relief washes through me, which results in more fluid running down the length in a stream that drips onto my thigh and from there, on the floor.
I don’t look down at myself. I’ve never removed the plate in front of another person before, and the vulnerability of the gesture makes me feel more exposed than I’ve ever felt in combat or confession. I’m scared of what Jessa might think, terrified that she’ll be disgusted or disappointed.
Jessa gasps, and her hand moves faster over her clit. She bites her lower lip as she stares at my cock, her eyes wide and hungry.
“It’s gorgeous,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. She moans and arches her back. “I never thought… I mean, I imagined, or tried to… oh, fuck… that’s a perfect cock.”
She comes with a desperate groan, her body going rigid before it shudders with the force of her orgasm. Her thighs shake, and I can see her juices dripping from her pussy onto the bedding. I want to taste her, so of course I say it out loud, not thinking ofhow ridiculous it sounds. I’m pathetic… wanting things I can’t have.
“I would taste you if I could.”
She looks at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied. Her lips are parted as she catches her breath.
“Come here.”
I stand and cross the room, no questions asked. Anything she wants from me, I’ll do it. My cock bobs with each step, hard, leaking, and aching. I stop in front of her and wait for her next instruction.
“Kneel,” she says.
I do it.
Jessa reaches out and smears her wet fingers across my face, where my nose and mouth should be, spreading her juices over the smooth steel in long strokes. A low growl escapes me; a sound I’ve never made before that seems to come from the depths of my chest. I grip her thighs with my hands, my fingers digging into the pliable flesh.
She slips closer to the edge of the bed and takes my head between her hands, pulling me in and down, until my face is level with her pussy. Even in this position I’m taller than her, so I have to bend my back. She presses my head between her legs and positions me where she wants me.
“If you had a tongue, you’d lick my clit,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry I’m not adequate,” I say. The lack feels like a failure on my part.
“You’re more than adequate,” she says. “You’re exactly what I need right now.”
She adjusts my position, tilting my head at a different angle, and I have to bend down even more. I spread my knees wider and sit back on my heels to lower myself further. The position puts strain on my back and neck joints, but I don’t care. I wouldhold it for hours if she asked me to. She’s arranging me like a puppet, like a toy, and I’m here for it.
“Just stay there,” she says. “Right there.”
She presses her soaked pussy against my face and starts rubbing her swollen folds and clit over me, her hips rocking in a rhythm that gradually builds speed. Her fingers tighten around the plating on either side of my head, using the grip for leverage as she grinds harder.
“I’m close again,” she gasps. “I can’t believe I can come a second time so fast. But this is… fuck… this is so hot.”
I let her do whatever she wants with me, staying perfectly still while she uses my face for her pleasure. I can feel every detail of her soft skin, how slick she is, and the heat radiating from her core.
Then something happens that I can’t understand, nor explain. My sensors register something new, a sensation that my processors identify as taste. It’s sweet and salty at the same time, and I have no reference for it, except what I read about different tastes. I don’t know how my sensors can translate taste when they’ve never done it before, but it must mean something. Jessa is essentially rewiring me. She doesn’t even know it.
She tastes clean, warm and alive, like ocean spray and honey. The flavors flood me with data I catalog and store in permanent memory, because I know I’ll never experience this again. Every detail matters: the way the sweetness hits first before the salt, how her taste changes as she gets wetter and the flavor intensifies when she grinds harder against my face.
Her movements become frantic, her hips rocking faster. Her moans grow louder and higher pitched, breaking into gasps and whimpers.
“Yes… Yes, right there, don’t move, please don’t move.”
I don’t move a single millimeter. Her juices coat my face and drip down my chin and throat. Her thighs tremble under mygripping hands. I can feel her muscles shake with tension and effort. She cries out as she comes again, her body convulsing above me. More wetness splashes across my face, and I taste her again, the flavor even more intense now. She gasps in surprise, then another moan escapes her, her hips jerk once more, and she splashes me again.
