Cammers With Benefits
Page 11
I wasn’t wet enough, not after that pause in action, and it feels like tiny fissures rip open inside me as Brice’s girth slides all the way up inside. My fists grip at the blankets and I let out a guttural bark that is fueled by both pain and pleasure. I can feel Brice pause, wondering if he should continue or not. Not wanting to pause again, I groan out, “Give it to me hard.”
So he does.
This is not the passionate lovemaking of the previous night. We are not exploring each other’s bodies for the first time. Gone are the tentative motions, the hesitations and unspoken questions. Now we know exactly what the other wants, and we waste no time in giving it.
Brice has his hands on either side of my ass, pulling me back into him as he humps forward. The sound of our skin slapping against each other becomes a steady rhythm, but Greg did say that they want variety. We can’t just finish like this, though I can feel in the urgency of Brice’s movements that he can’t last much longer. When I look back, I can see that he’s got his eyes closed and is zoning everyone else out. Just like me, he’s imagining it’s just us. But Brice needs to slow down.
I lurch forward, pulling myself away from him so that his cock slides out of me. Then, without pausing, I turn around, grab him by the shoulders, and throw him on the bed. After crawling on top of him, I hover over his pelvis, take hold of his dick, and angle it straight up. Then I lower myself onto him, shuddering as he enters me again.
This time I’m in control, and as I focus on the sensation of being filled, I can throw my head back with my eyes closed and almost forget about all of the filming equipment around us. After about a minute, we’re back in a rhythm and it’s just me and Brice and our mutual ride through the fields of pleasure up to the gates of glorious orgasm.
Brice is thrusting up each time I come down, leading to mighty smacks of his thighs against my ass. I allow every thought to run straight to my tongue, unfiltered and unworried about who might hear it.
“Yes,” I say over and over. “Like that. Like that. God, you’re all the way up inside me.”
Between my words are moans of actual pleasure. This is only our second time having sex, and Brice is unlike any partner I’ve had before. Our years of friendship have somehow interpreted into a connection that can’t be faked. He knows what I’m thinking before I say anything. When he begins rubbing at my clit with a free hand, I reach down and guide him into a better position. I bend down and suck at his nipples, because I remember him mentioning he liked when a certain ex-girlfriend did this.
Despite my frequent webcam sessions, I’ve never actually been dominant in bed. I’ve always let the guy take charge. They usually only focus on what feels good for them, thinking that it equates to similar sensations for me. But Brice knows this isn’t true. Because we’ve talked about these exact topics as friends often do. I schooled Brice on what actually drives girls wild, and from the way he moves under me and shows me attention, he’s obviously taken these lessons to heart.
We’re approaching the point of no return. I can feel it in the urgency of his thrusts and in the vacancy of my mind. Gone are the artificial lights, the cameraman leaning on the bed for a closer view, and the weight of other eyes. Brice and I are all that matters. His hands run up and down my body, cupping my breasts as I throw myself into the last actions leading up to an orgasm that sends shivers down my legs. The gasping scream I hear can’t be me, but there’s no one else it could have come from. I fall forward onto Brice, burying my face in his chest. I want to live inside this moment forever. This cocoon of endorphins and lust and sweat between us, everything outside our bubble shut off for one glorious moment.
We lie like this for what feels like minutes. Each time his cock pulses in the last throes of ecstasy, I reciprocate the feeling by tightening my pussy around him. Just as the lights are infiltrating my eyelids once more and I can begin to remember where we are, Greg calls out, “Cut!” Footsteps returns to life around us and I lift my head from Brice. We’re staring into each other’s eyes as Greg says, “That’s it for this scene. You’ve got a thirty-minute break until the next one. You two did good,” he says with a pat of the bed beside us before turning to discuss something with the sound guy.
I bite my lips and look around the room. No one is paying attention to us, so I choose this moment to plant a soft kiss on Brice’s lips. It’s odd that I would feel that this tiny action is something I need to hide after having just made passionate love on camera, but the kiss is meant only for Brice. I don’t want to share it with anyone else. “It was more than good,” I say before peeling myself away from him.
Brice opens his mouth to say something, but the words catch in his throat. He looks over to the door and when he looks back to me, whatever nervousness painted his earlier features is gone. He’s back to being carefree. “You want to see if Sally can get us some coffee?”
I almost ask him what he was going to say before that, but I get the sense that maybe whatever it is just isn’t quite ripe enough yet. So I let it go.
“Sounds good to me. Then it’s back to work.”
“Work!” Brice says with a laugh as he gathers his clothes from the floor. “I think I’ve finally found a job I won’t mind pulling overtime at.”
Chapter 6
At the end of the first day, a deep exhaustion has burrowed right into my bones. It’s the same feeling I have after spending all day swimming or exploring a new town on vacation. A feeling of every fiber of your being having been used to its limit. It’s all I can do not to fall asleep on Brice’s shoulder in the back of the taxi.
Brice squeezes my hand where it rests on his knee. “Quite the day.”
I nod against his shoulder but say nothing. I don’t have the energy to speak.
“I’d ask if you’re hungry, but I think you ate three cheeseburgers in that last scene before Greg was happy with the shot.”
“It was four cheeseburgers,” I say, the words stirring up a bit of lingering queasiness. I’m still not sure who wants to see people having sex on a fast food counter, but that’s exactly what Greg had set up for our last scene. Brice was the worker and
I was supposed to seductively eat in front of him before we both leapt on the counter and tore each other’s clothes off.
Brice looks out the window and then leans over to peek at the taxi’s meter. “Do you want me to drop you off at your place first?”
“You could stay at my place tonight,” I suggest. “Just for the night. It would make getting back to the studio in the morning easier if we carpooled again.”
Brice tenses beside me. It’s not hard to imagine the scene running through his head: him lying in bed next to me but wondering if his mother is crying in the bathroom, reverting back to her old habit of smoking in secret. He never spends the night, because he’s afraid to leave her alone since his dad died of an aneurysm. He’s always afraid that her manic moods will dip into one of her depressive states while he’s away.
“I don’t kn—” he begins to say, but I cut him off when the perfect solution pops into in my head.
“I hate to invite myself over, but we could both stay at your place tonight. Maybe it’s not too late to order dinner for all three of us. Does your mom like Chinese? I can call in the order right now.”
The tension falls from his face. “That sounds nice. But are you sure? I mean you must be exhausted.”