She eyes me cautiously as I bring the tip back toward her mouth. That sweet pink tongue darts out, catching the drops of whiskey before they fall. Each time she laps up each drop, I return the vibrator to the whiskey and feed her more.
“Do you like it?” I ask, removing it to dip again.
“Hmm.” She nods and licks her lips, making me spin.
I feed her some more. “It’s the rarest of all the whiskeys I own,” I muse, watching her tongue dart out again. This time, she curves it around the tip of the vibrator and my dick jerks. She wants more—more than the whiskey.
“Now I want you to show me what you would do if this dick was real.”
I drench the vibrator in whiskey and hold it over her mouth. She parts her lips, staring at it greedily. It takes inhuman strengthto lower the rubber dick slowly into her mouth. When her tongue touches it, a small moan curls up her throat and my brain turns feral.
How the fuck am I supposed to drag this out, edge her until she’s sobbing, if I can’t even control my reaction to a small moan? What am I going to do when shebegs?
I can’t think about it now. I need to focus.
She wraps soft, pink lips around the vibrator, her eyelids fluttering shut, and she sucks.
They’re shy little sucks at first, then she relaxes into it, pulling the vibrator deeper into her mouth, releasing it as I withdraw only to pump it back in. I do it casually, but I’m kidding myself if I believe anything about this moment is casual. It’s intense. It’s testing my absolute limits.
“You suck it so well,cucciola,” I murmur, enraptured. “More?”
Her eyelids ping and she nods.
I dip the vibrator into the whiskey again, feeding it into her mouth.
“Loosen your lips so I can fuck your pretty mouth.”
A dimple appears in her cheek. She likes it when I talk dirty.
She rests her lips around the smooth fake dick and lets me move it in and out. I imagine it’s my cock and I’m slowly thrusting into her. Then her tongue darts out to lick the length as I pull it out. And fuck me, I feel it on my shaft.
My balls draw up and I haven’t even gotten inside anything. Even so, I can’t tear my eyes from her mouth, devouring the vibrator as if she can’t get enough.
Our eyes are locked, the intensity of our connection searing my awareness. I break it to glance between her thighs. She’s so fucking turned on, her pubic hairs are glistening.
Cazzo.
I lick my lips. What I wouldn’t give to taste her right now, to sample her flavor—to know intimately whatIdo to her.
When I pull the vibrator from her mouth, a line of salivastretches from the rubber tip to her lips, breaking over her breasts. I feast my eyes on it. Madness swells my brain but a reliable small voice in the back of my head orders me to stay focused.
With the tip still wet, I trace a line around each of her breasts and across her stomach. I sense her watching me through lowered lids, with parted lips puffing out short little gasps of air.
The silence retreats into the background when I switch the vibrator on. She jumps in surprise, her eyes flashing from the vibrator back to my face. I draw a line with it from hip to inner thigh, and again on the opposite leg, then trace circles across her upper leg until she starts to squirm.
She won’t articulate it, but she wants the vibrator in a very specific place. She’ll get it, but not before she begs.
Changing the setting to a slow, low pulse, I curve the tip across her bikini line, just inches from her clit. Her chest expands and she braces herself. I circle the mound over and over then realize she might actually pass out from anticipation.
“Breathe, Pfeiffer.”
A huge exhale gushes from her lungs and she pants at the lost oxygen.
“Just relax.”
“M-hm,” she nods.
She’s probably wondering what I’m getting out of this. Especially since this arrangement is meant to be all aboutmypleasure. She doesn’t understand that this is abouttorture. I’m going to take her right to the very edge, repeatedly, until she’s sweating, crying, begging.
