His lips kiss along the crease of my belly and my leg. I jerk as he sinks his teeth into the fleshy part of my inner thigh. Before Ican protest, he’s kissing and licking it better. The pain followed by pleasure is new to me, but I like it.
I brace myself for his big cock while I catch my breath. After a minute or so, he’s still not attempted to fuck me, but there’s a slapping sound like he’s tossing himself off.
“What are you doing?”
“Marking what’s mine.” He groans as the jacking off sounds become faster.
“I want to see.” I bite my lip while I hold my breath.
He moves around the bed adjusting things, then lifts my blindfold. Two dark slits in his balaclava stare down at me, but with the ring light behind him, he’s more of a silhouette as my eyes adjust to the soft light, preventing me from seeing the colour of his irises or making out any features. He’s all in black, right down to the leather glove curled around his shaft.
I watch with wide eyes as this man beats his dick with faster movements than I could ever do. On his knees, he towers over me, groaning and huffing into his mask.
“I like you like this, tied up and at my mercy. You look so pretty covered in my marks. And you’re gonna look even better covered in my cum.”
A soft light shines from behind his large frame. My mouth parts with a gasp. A phone’s clamped in the centre of my ring light. “Did you film us?”
“I did. I’ll send it to you if you like.” He says it with pride as if I should congratulate him for his creativity.
“I never gave you permission to make your own porno movie,” I say, my voice breathy.
“Oh, come on.” He shoves two leather fingers inside me, pumping them in and out as he pumps his dick in his fist. “You think guys aren’t recording you every time you get the goods out?”
With his digits working their magic inside me, I’m less mad about the filming. If he keeps curling his fingers against parts I can’t reach myself, I may forget all about it completely, but he’s not totally off the hook yet.
He groans as if having his fingers inside me pleasures him as much as it does me. I let him have his moment, enjoying the show of watching him get off. It’s what I love about being a cam girl, knowing a man is getting off by watching me is addictive. The thrill is like a drug, intoxicating, exhilarating, and empowering.
I gasp as ropes of hot cum spill onto my belly.
The movements of his fingers inside me, slow as he catches his breath, sinking back onto his heels.
I arch my spine, needing more of his digits. My hands tug at the metal bed frame, then I wince as the plastic digs into my wrist.
He exhales through his mask, then hums approvingly, his gloved hand swirling his cum around my stomach as if it’s his own brand of massage oil. He reaches for the phone from the ring light and swipes to the video. “I can delete it if it makes you uncomfortable.” He hovers above me, waiting for an answer. “But I thought you liked the idea of being watched.”
It may have his face on or a clue to his identity so I shake my head. “Let me watch, sir.”
Playing the video, he holds the phone and shows me the recording of just my face. His other hand rewards me by massages my clit with his thumb, his digits crooked inside me, summoning another orgasm like a necromancer, bending my mind and body to his will as I forget all about the movie he’s filmed. “You like watching yourself, don’t you?”
My head nods, unable to speak as the pleasure he’s giving me builds in my belly, the leather glove slick with my arousal. I don’ttake my eyes from the recording, desperate for any clue to my shadow’s identity.
“I like watching you too,” he says in a deep gruff voice. “Sing for me, nightingale.”
I cry out as I come again around his fingers, my walls clenching. My back arches and my face contorts just as it does on screen. Moans from deep in my belly rise and escape with a rumble in my lungs. Like an echo, whimpers come through his speaker.
“I’ll never get enough of watching you come.” He slips his hand from me, my slickness webbing between his gloved fingers, highlighted by the glow from the phone. He swirls it on my stomach, mixing my arousal with his own, then brings his hand to my lips.
My tongue darts out to lick his thumb. “If you have a movie of me, I think it’s only fair I have one of you.”
“I’ll send it to you.” He groans behind his mask. “You remember when you asked me what my fantasy was?”
I nod, “Yes, sir.”
“It’s this. Having you tied up covered in my scent...” He swirls more of our mixed arousal over my skin. “…my cum...” His wet glove slides over the bite marks on my breasts. “…and my marks.”
I could come again from his words, his hands roaming my flesh. He might have his face covered, but I don’t need to see his eyes to know they’re worshipping me, taking in every part of me lit with the soft glow from the ring light.
“Wait here,” he says as he climbs off the bed and exits the bedroom.
