Buy Me, Sir

“You’re going to come for me until you’re exhausted,” he tells me, and I moan for him. His fingers sink inside, and I feel a pressure as he moves them. “Until you’re exhausted,” he repeats and I nod.

His fingers are fast and deep, the pressure inside grows intense, building higher and higher until I can’t keep still. My legs wriggle and my ass bucks from the bed, my throat making stupid groans as I grab at the sheets.

His arm pistons. I can hear how wet I am.

“Nice and wide,” he whispers, and I spread my legs for him as wide as they’ll go, not caring that I look like a frog. Not caring that my hair is sticking to my clammy forehead, or that I’m probably wearing more red lipstick on my chin than my mouth.

He kisses my belly as he lowers himself down the bed, and his arms wrap around my thighs and pull my pussy to his mouth.

He sucks. He sucks right on my tender clit with his fingers inside me, and it’s too much.

I grip his hair as I come, and he likes it, he growls at me and sucks harder. I wrap my legs around his shoulders and pin him tight, and he likes that too. He slides a finger into my ass as I buck for him, and I cry out over and over.

I worry as I catch my breath, worry that tonight should be about his pleasure, not mine. But his cock is so big as he gets up to retrieve his case, his eyes hungry as he unclasps it on the bed and takes out a massager.

He plugs it in behind the nightstand.

“Until you’re exhausted,” he says again, and turns it on.

The big purple head of it buzzes. He trails it across my tits and it vibrates all the way through me. It tickles my belly on the way down, and I’m already crazy when it reaches my clit, already hissing as I know what’s coming.

He lies at my side, my thigh sandwiched between his, his cock at my hip as he presses the massager tight against me. He nuzzles my neck, and his mouth is at my ear, his breath warm and raspy.

“I want to know what turns you on,” he tells me. “You’re going to tell me.”

“This…” I whisper, and he nips my ear.

“I want to know what you think about when you play with yourself.”

“You,” I tell him, and he nips me again.

“Don’t lie to me, Amy,” he growls, but I’m not. I tell him so.

He turns my face to his, and I tell him again.

“You. I play with myself and I think about you.”

“That’s…”

“Crazy,” I tell him, and I don’t care. “I know. But it’s true. And I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”

He looks torn, and I hate that. I hate the way he’s fighting what he already knows.

“Why me?” he asks, and flicks up the speed of the massager. It makes me squirm.

“Because…” I begin, and I don’t know how to answer.

“Why?” he repeats.

But he’s too late, because I’m already tumbling, already riding the wave, my body a clammy wreck against his.

He doesn’t take the massager away, not even when I’m wriggling at the contact.

“You play with yourself and you think of me, why?”

“Because… because you’re… everything…” I breathe, and it’s such a stupid thing to say. He stares down so hard on me. “Last weekend… when you took me… it was everything… you took everything…”

He blinks, and I think I’ve got away with it.

“You… when you choked me… it felt so good…” I tell him. That gets a reaction. I feel his cock twitch against my hip. “And I want more… I want so much more… it’s not just… about the money…”

“Why are you here?” he growls, and his lips press to the corner of mine.

“Because… of you…” I hiss. “Only you…”

“And what if it wasn’t me who’d bought your exclusivity?”

“I wouldn’t be here…”

I don’t know if he believes me. I hope he does.

“You don’t even know me,” he says.

I meet his eyes. “I feel you,” I whisper, and I’m going all in. My clit is sending me insane. “And I think… I hope… I hope you feel it, too… because it’s crazy… but it’s true… I feel you…”

The only sound above the massager is my own raspy breath. He’s silent. And I can hardly look at him, can hardly face the rejection I know is coming.

Only it doesn’t.

“I think about you,” he tells me. “So I guess we’re both fucking crazy.” He breathes against my lips. “I’m dangerous,” he rasps. “My tastes are dangerous. You shouldn’t be here.”

My eyes bore into his. “Do it,” I tell him. “Please… do it.”

He pauses for just a second, long enough to press his lips to mine.

And then he closes his fingers around my throat.