She didn’t say anything to that.
I wanted her to tell me she liked this.
I wanted her to tell me she likedme.
I wanted her to tell me how fucking hot this was.
But for some reason, it all got stuck in my throat. Maybe, in a way, I wasn’t so used to asking for what I wanted, either.
Bossing around some chick I just met in bed, taking control of the sexual act, being dominant, alpha, whatever. I could do that.
Butasking… that was different. Especially asking for something meaningful from someone you cared about.
Especially when you didn’t know if the answer would be no.
Was this what vulnerability felt like?
The fact was, I didn’t usually care enough to get vulnerable with women.
I wasn’t shy. I wasn’t self-conscious. But with Angeline… I didn’t want to mess up. I didn’t want her to think this was just about me getting off, or about using her. This was about what I told her it was about in the beginning: trust.
So instead I said, “Say my name.” I couldn’t believe how desperate I sounded.
I half-expected her to laugh.
“Johnny.”
My ass clenched and my dick shuddered as I ran my fingers up and down. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last, Angel.”
“Try,” she breathed, and I could hear the lust in her voice. The fact that this was turning her on was making it so much more fucking intense.
“I can’t. Not with you listening.”And sounding like you love it.
“You’ve come for me like this before?” she pressed.
“Yes.”
“Then come for me.”
Christ, just her telling me to come was a rush. “Fuck. I’m gonna come…”
“Oh,” she gasped, like she couldn’t believe I got there so fast. Her pleasured surprise made it even more erotic.
Intimate.
“You want it?” I gasped, squeezing my cock in my fist now, trying to hold it back until she said so.
“Yeah…”
“Angeline…” I groaned her name as the ecstasy surged, letting go. My cock convulsed in my fist and I ejaculated for her. Hot come spurt onto my abs. I smeared my free hand over it, then used it to jack myself off in long, greedy pulls. I spurt for her a few more times, moaning, mindless. “Angie. Angie… fuck.”
She was silent, but breathing softly.
I kept stroking, root to tip and back again, as I softened a little. My head spun. The occasional spasm racked through me and my hips flexed a little. I just rode it out, panting, trying to give her what she asked for.
I could hear her breathing softly, but she still didn’t say anything. I figured maybe she was embarrassed. Or, dare to dream… busy touching herself?
“It’s okay,” I told her, still stroking myself. “It’s okay to like it.” I thought maybe that was what she needed to hear.
