thinks I won’t take it into my hands. I’m just not that bold.
But he’s wrong. I smile playfully as I reach for my pussy. I can’t believe how wet I am. I moan as I stroke myself. But before I can even bring myself anywhere close to orgasm, he grabs my wrist and pulls it back. “Uh-uh…” he says, and I hear the laughter in his voice. “Boss Man is in charge of that. I do all the work here.”
I laugh.
He’s got my hands in a wristlock again, and I struggle just to be bratty. Because he loves when I’m a bit bratty. I struggle harder but I still can’t free myself as he grips my wrists harder. Sometimes his strength surprises me.
“Settle down, sweetie,” he breathes against my ear. “I won’t make you wait too much longer. I’ve played enough.”
Finally.
He slides his hand along my folds gently and skillfully. He brings me to the edge so fast, I’m taken aback but how swiftly my body responds to his touch. I moan my pleasure as the amazing sensation slides along my spine and stretches to my extremities, wanting him to know how good he makes me feel.
“Wait for me,” he commands. “Don’t let go quite yet.”
His hand leaves me, and I crave its return. When I feel his hard-on slide up against my wetness, I melt onto the bed. A loud moan escapes me as he ventures inside me. “Not yet,” he warns.
He sinks slowly into me, and my whole body responds instantly. “Wait for me,” he says again, but I’m not sure I can. He manages to be both hard and gentle as he thrusts into me and brings me closer and closer. I grasp onto the bed covers hard, taking him inside me, enjoying every second, wanting to climax so badly. “C-can I now?” I ask, breathless.
“Yes, baby. I want to hear you.”
I rub my pussy to edge myself along. And before long, we both come, and it is glorious. So glorious, my legs shake afterwards. When I finally come to, I crawl onto the bed.
“Wow,” he says.
I turn to face him. “Wow is right.”
He’s already zipped up, and he reaches for his phone. “Can I take some photos now?” he asks. “You look very sexy, all flushed and freshly fucked.”
I smile. “Sure, but remember… tasteful.”
38
I stretch out on the bed and strike a pose. I lean my head on one hand, my elbow buried in the bed cover. I know I’m far from perfect, but in Weston’s presence, I feel so pretty.
He’s pointing his phone camera already. “Stick out your hip a little more.”
I do as he says, a little self conscious. I don’t hate my body, but I don’t love it either. My breasts are a little too small, my nipples a little too big for my liking. My waist is a little too wide, and my hips a little too narrow. And my legs are a little too short. I know I’m being silly. Most of us women are. We are way too critical of our own bodies. We should stop obsessing and just appreciate what our healthy bodies do for us. They can bring us pleasure, can bring children into the world and feed them. They can share a hug, and feel the love of close ones. They can carry us from one place to another, and do so much, things that we take for granted every day. Yet, we can’t help but scrutinize ourselves.
I study the way Weston looks at me, with nothing but adoration. I’m sure he doesn’t see the imperfections like I do. I decide to embrace my body, and let him take as many photos as he likes.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
He dances around the room, barking out orders. Sit up. Lay down. Stick out your bum. Pull up your hair. It’s exhausting, but also very fun.
“Now, I want you on your stomach,” he says. “I want a shot of that great bum of yours.”
I smile and turn around. I stick out my rear before he even tells me to.
“Oh, sweetie… I hate what I’ve done to you.”
I laugh. “It’s all good.”
“You know I’m not usually this wild,” he confesses. “There’s just something about you. I’m less inhibited with you, less inhibited than I’ve ever been.”
“Really?” I say. “So you’re telling me you don’t usually go around biting bums?”
He laughs. “Nope… just yours, baby. There’s a certain quality about you… it makes me want to be playful.”