But there’s another part of me that can’t stop.
This is how I get control.
This is how I show him that I’m more than his plaything, even if I love being his plaything … but there needs to be a balance.
But do I really think I can tame this beast?
I have to try.
He sits down slowly, his eyebrow cocked, as though he’s interested in this new development.
Then he reaches out to grab my thigh and I slide away, the effort shattering through me, my pussy screaming at me that I’m an idiot.
“Nah uh,” I moan. “This is for me, remember?”
“Listen to that moan in your voice,” he says, reading me with ease. “You’re barely holding yourself back, aren't you? You horny girl. Say it, Aida. Tell me what you are.”
“I’m your personal nympho,” I moan, shifting my thighs together. “But just … Just watch, Arturo. Just let me. And don’t laugh.”
“Laugh?” he growls. “Whatever you’re going to do, I’m not going to laugh at you. You’re too damn fucking sexy. Jesus, Aida, it’s about time you started getting some self-esteem.”
I bite my lip, the brutal kindness of his words surging through me.
Then I walk backward, and back, until I’m far enough that he can’t touch me but close enough so he can still get a good look at me. My anxiety is hot and thrumming now, trying to force me to stop.
But I’m not a virgin anymore.
I’m not a scared high school girl anymore.
I’m Arturo’s woman.
Until you tell him how you really feel.
I push that thought away and then start swaying from side to side. I close my eyes as I start to dancing, not letting myself look at him just in case it makes me stop.
I shift my hips like I’ve practiced countless times, alone, in my bedroom, always imagining that some hulking handsome man is staring at me … but never truly believing that my wild sex-filled dreams could come true.
I turn and move my hips, grabbing my dress and lifting it in what I hope is a teasing way.
Arturo makes growling noises which I hope means he likes it, grumbles that sound as if they start from deep in his gut.
On and on – for minutes – I live out this fantasy, part of me struggling to believe that it’s real.
Finally, I find the courage to open my eyes, turning to face him.
I gasp, staring.
I can’t dance anymore.
My legs are trembling.
Arturo has taken his massive cock out of his pants, the whole huge engorged length of it glistening with what must be precome. He casually strokes it as he watches me, smirking like a wolf.
“You want control?” he snarls. “You want to lead the way?”
“Y-yes,” I moan.
I need it.
“Then come sit on this cock,” he says. “I won’t move a muscle. Lead the way, Aida. Bounce on this fucking dick. Make yourself cream. Come on—do it. If you’re sick and tired of being the scared little girl who lives in her head, come over here and show me what a real woman is. Or are you too nervous?”
“No way,” I moan, even as my footsteps try to falter in the heels. “P-put your hands on the arms of the chair, Arturo. No touching. Just let me ride.”
He chuckles indulgently.
“Look at my sweet Aida, so confident,” he says. “Fine. I’ll indulge you. But if you don’t gift me with some of your sweet thick white cream, I’m going to lose control and bend you over again. And then I’m really going to fuck you. I’ll break that sweet little spot inside of you, the one that tingles so nicely when you come. I’ll break it over and over again until you’re a fucking wreck. Are you going to come for me, Aida?”
“H-hands,” I moan, nodding at his question.
“You’re practically creaming already, aren’t you?”
I nod and moan, biting my lip, my lips shivering and tingling and sending trembles all over my body.
Arturo places his hands on the arms of the chair, watching me closely. He clenches his fists so hard his knuckles turn white. His cock is so firm and filled with fiery lust it still points straight up even when he lets it go, thick veins running up and down it.
“I’ve never done it in this position before,” I murmur, and then I giggle. “I mean, before yesterday I never did it in any position, but—”
“Put your hands on my knees,” he snarls. “And then just sit down. And then you can either bounce like the horny girl you are, or I can grab those thick gorgeous hips and slam you up and down. But hurry, Aida. I’m losing my patience.”
I gasp and turn around, grabbing his knees – feeling his bare flesh, his pants, and underwear around his ankles – and lower myself slowly onto his cock.
It slips at first, sliding across my thigh.