"Yes!" I said, my voice so desperate. He couldn't stop now, no way. He had to keep going...
"Say it!"
"I want to come!" Those words I meant more than anything I had ever said prior to that in my life. Jack delivered.
His hand sprang to life, pushing me right off a cliff. My back hit the wall hard, my pussy twitching rapidly around his fingers. He kept right against my g-spot, pulling with that come hither motion that made me so weak in the knees.
"God, you're so fucking hot." I heard his words, but could barely perceive them.
I cried out again and again into his shoulder, his erection still just an innocent bystander. My toes curled in my heels and my nipples became rock hard. I just couldn't get enough air no matter how hard I tried. Jack led me up and down, over and over again until I was totally spent, his hand soaked with my cream.
The craziest thing about it all was the way he stopped right with me. Most guys would keep going until I physically pulled their hands away—but not Jack. He stopped right with me, right when the over-sensitivity kicked in and eased his hand away from my body.
My breaths came quickly as I continued to stand there against the wall, trying my damndest to re-collect myself. I opened my eyes to see him slowly tasting his fingers. "You're so sweet, Effie. I love it when you come."
So fucking dirty...
I had nothing to say—I was totally blown away. But not for long. Freeing from bliss, my mind returned to the usual suspects—my job, my future, this nearly random guy—and I suddenly felt ashamed. He was hot and famous and I had been caught under his spell. I didn't do this. It just wasn't me, even though it had felt incredible.
"Let's go to the bedroom, Effie."
As much as I wanted to return the favor, I couldn't do it. My mind was scolding me like an angry parent. "Jack, I'm... so sorry. I have to go." I bent down and pulled my panties back into place.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"This isn't like me." I turned my head and stared out at the city again, worried that if I made eye contact with him again, I'd be totally trapped. I couldn't help but feel as if I were just another number in his endless conquest of women. He had probably never been rejected in his life—and I had ensured that his perfect victory streak continued.
"It's not like that," Jack said. "I like you, Effie. I like you a lot."
"I'm sorry, Jack. I have to go." I immediately walked toward the door while he trailed behind me and stood there like a sad puppy.
"Are you sure, Effie?"
"I had a really nice time tonight. Thanks again." I opened the door, and standing there—she actually just about to knock—was a statuesque blonde, clad in a dress not unlike mine. She appeared to be a model, her dress almost as revealing and low-cut as mine. Her breasts also overflowed from the top. I couldn't help but notice, even though that was the last thing I needed in that moment.
"Who the hell are you?" she said with piercing aggression.
I stared back at Jack disapprovingly. There was a look of horror on his face. "Who the hell are you?" I snarled. No, I didn't even care about an explanation. I pushed past the girl and made my way down the hall. Jack began angrily whispering to her as I got further and further away from his room and the madness contained there.
"Effie, it's not what you think it is!"
"You're a cliché," I shouted back. "Did someone write that for you?"
I half-expected him to come running after me, but he didn't. I got to the elevator—Martin seemed surprised to see me so soon.
Chapter 3
The subway was even more mesmerizing than usual. I stared into the rapidly moving shapes as if they were the sun, my guard lowered as I sat there on the dirty bench in my nice dress. I just didn't care. My mother would have killed me if she knew I went out alone in the city dressed as I was. No one bothered me, thankfully.
I wanted to hate Jack, yet I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he had touched me, the way he had manipulated my body into so much pleasure. The gusts of