A Dance for Him (18 page)

It’s a good thing I’m getting to lean against the counter, because I don’t think I could have supported myself if I were on all fours.

But I don’t get to lean on the counter for long.

Soon afterwards he pulls me up towards him but continues pounding into me even as he pushes up my shirt to expose my breasts and begins to fondle them.

“You’re so hot, Paige,” he pants into my ear. “It’s impossible to be around you and not want to fuck you. Especially now that I know how good your tight little pussy feels around my cock … Fuck, I wish I could just tie you up for the weekend and use you at will, I want you so used to having my cock inside you that you feel empty when I’m not fucking you.”

“I already feel that way,” I gasp. “I need your cock, Sebastian, your little slut needs a good pounding …”

“And you’ll get it,” he growls.

He’s as good as his word - he grabs me by the hair and begins slamming into me even harder than before, which I didn’t even think was possible. I feel like some kind of sex doll, as though he were using my most intimate parts to satiate his unbounded lust for me.

His
very
well-fucked sex doll - because it’s not long before I come in a wail of pleasure, and he follows soon after, filling my core with spurt after spurt of his thick seed.

I collapse forward onto the counter, spent.

I assume he is, too, even though he’s still semi-hard and buried in me.

But he’s not so spent that he hasn’t got other ideas.

“Do you have panties with you, Paige?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer, a bit surprised, turning back to look at him.

“Upstairs?”

“Yes, they’re on the bed, I put them on earlier then took them off before I came down.”

He gives me a devilish grin.

“Very good. I want you to wait for me here while I get them and the rest of your things. Because I’ll have a bit of homework for you as well. I want you to stay in this position and use your fingers as a stopper for your sweet little pussy until I get back, so that you keep as much of my cum inside you as possible in the meantime.”

He pulls out carefully and winks at me before going off.

I obey, though I have no idea what he’s up to, but he’s definitely starting to get me excited all over again …

Before I know it, he’s reappeared with my panties.

“Very good,” he says appraisingly when he sees me still in position, his cum still deep inside me. “Now, Paige, this is what I want you to do. I’m going to put these panties on you, and when you get back, I want you to send me a picture of them, all wet with my cum. Or, even better, a picture of your sweet pussy with my cum dribbling out of it, if you haven’t completely soaked your panties by then.”

Oh my God he’s such a perv, I love it.

“Yes, Sir,” I say coyly.

He gets on his knees, gently lifting one stiletto-shod foot and then the other so that I can step into my panties, which he then pushes up over my legs and hips and ass, not missing any opportunities to cop a feel.

After my panties are securely on, he rearranges my skirt and my top to cover me up, then gives me an affectionate smack on the ass, as though to tell me that I can stand up properly now.

As I get back into upright position I can feel his seed sliding out of me - it’s a sensation that is turning me on all over again.

He smiles and shakes his head, probably picking up on my desire from the way I’m looking at him.

“Come on, baby girl,” he says, “I’ve left your bag in the foyer, I’ll get you your coat, and then I’ll walk you out to your car. Oh, and I’ve left you a text on your phone so that you’ll have my number, but you’re not to check your phone till you get home, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He beams at me. “Now come on, or I’ll be tempted to fuck you again, and you’ll never get your paper done in time for tomorrow.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

God, she’s adorable. Wearing me out in the best way possible. I could so easily have fucked her again before she left, given her a second load to take home with her …

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never experienced with anyone else the intense desire I have to mark her, over and over again, as if to claim her for my own.

In the text I sent her I told her that I was keeping the clothes she arrived in yesterday. That I would have kept her panties, but I wanted her to keep my cum inside her as long as possible.

That, over the next few days, I’d be covering her naughty little barely-there outfit with cum in lieu of her sweet self.

With anyone else I would think that might be a bit forward for a first text, but considering all we’ve done, not so much.

And she did tell me she loved being talked dirty to, being called names (the dirtier the better), being restrained, being used hard.

That she loved being dominated …

Fuck, I can’t think about anything but her, about how good it felt to take her, about how much I want to feel her sweet little pussy clenching around my cock, as though it wanted to milk every drop of cum out of me.

If only I could see her tomorrow night. If only there weren’t this idiotic conference the department was hosting, starting tomorrow evening and ending Tuesday night.

It’s going to be just great, listening to everyone drone on about their research when I could be fucking my sweet girl’s brains out, listening to her scream my name in ecstasy, begging me to fuck her even harder.

Maybe I’ll sext her when I’m not on the discussion panels. Or maybe even when I’m on. Live dangerously, why not.

I’ve been a good boy for too long, and I don’t think it’s done me any good in the least.

Strangely enough she said something to me last night about being tired of being a good girl.

Perhaps that’s why we understand each other!

Speaking of sexts, it seems she’s just replied to my previous text … Good, it means she’s safely home.

I see she’s obeyed my instructions. Good girl.

She’s sent two pictures, one of her panties, another one of her sweet pussy. Fuck, that must have been a huge load I left in her this morning - remarkable, considering how many times I fucked her last night.

I suppose that’s just the effect she has on me …

Oh, and she’s texted something as well now, following the second picture:

You’re making your little slut horny all over again. Given that I have a paper to write, I don’t know if I should add :) or :( to this observation ;).

God, she’s insatiable. I love that. Nothing like a beautiful woman who wants to get it on all the time.

Be a good girl and do your homework
, I text back.
If you are done by tonight, send it to me to prove that you actually have finished it, and I’ll tell you what I want done for me. Hint: may involve Skype.

A brief pause, and then the reply comes back:

I think that’s the best motivation I’ve ever had to do my homework (although I may still have to relieve some of the tension before I get to it ;)). See you later tonight.

Fuck, she knows how to get me going, the little minx!

But I can’t spend the whole day jerking off. Perhaps I should go and work out, get rid of some of that nervous energy. And then write.

There was this short story I’d started recently that is looking more and more like it could be developed into a full-length novel.

It’s been a long time since I felt like I could embark on a big project like that. I’d been feeling so tightly wound, so frustrated, depressed even.

But these days it feels like I could do just about
anything
…

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I don’t think I’ve ever woken up so energised on a Monday, not ever.

On the other hand, that was totally the best weekend of my life so far, between all the sex, and Sebastian being so sweet.

Sebastian
.

I still can’t believe that I’m now on first-name terms with him, that he’s behaving like we have a relationship, not just friends with benefits or something, which was about as much as I would allow myself to fantasize about up till now.

He’s so gorgeous I would never have thought it possible that he’d even seriously want me, and yet here he is, not just fucking me silly, but actually being tender and solicitous.

Not just about taking care of me financially (to be honest, I still feel a little weird about letting him do that) but all the little things. Cooking me dinner. Being concerned about me getting my homework done (so sweet and so wonderfully incongruous).

It’s like I actually matter to him …

Oh, and did I mention the sex?

Yesterday I tore through my paper so that we could have our Skype session. Emailed it to him (I’m not sure how much he’d have read of it, it’s a paper for my history class) and soon after a text came through from him:

Good girl. Add me on Skype. Then take off your clothes, get into bed, and call me. Video call of course.

P.S. Feel free to have your dildo on hand. I like a girl who likes toys.

And then I had my first Skype sex session ever. It’s funny, I never really thought about it consciously, but he does have the sexiest voice, capable of being in turns velvety and caressing, imperious and dominating, or rough and growly.

Which was incredibly hot when he was ordering me to pleasure myself, telling me where and how to touch myself …

Up till this weekend I’d never have imagined in a million years that Sebastian Morland - so very correct, so very polite, at least on the surface - could have such a dirty mind, such a dirty mouth.

I certainly could never have predicted that I’d ever get to see him jerking off on Skype while telling me how much to spread my nether lips open for him …

But I guess it was as hot for him as it was for me, because five minutes after we rang off, he texted me again:

You didn’t mention what time your history class was. Are you around on campus in the afternoon by any chance?

I’ve got history from 3 to 5
, I replied.

Him:
So come and see me in my office at 2:30. I can’t wait till Wednesday to give your pretty little pussy the deep-dicking it deserves. Also I like the idea of you having to go to someone else’s class all freshly fucked and sore between your legs
.

Mmmmm
, I wrote back.

Him:
Make sure you wear panties when you show up.

Me:
Why, are you going to make me keep your cum inside me again, like earlier today?

Him:
That’s for me to know and for you to guess. But either way, we’ll need a gag for you. If you prepare yourself well, it’ll be a very nice, juicy gag by the time you get here.

Me:
Can’t wait xoxo ;).