plans.” He carried on down, slowly, and my stomach knotted as he positioned himself between my legs, tickling the soft line of hair with his breath.
“I should have shaved... like Rebecca.”
“Your pussy is divine as it is, Lydia. Don’t be shy.” He growled in the back of his throat, and pulled my lips apart, stretching them wide with his fingers. I closed my eyes, fighting back the embarrassment. “Look at me, Cat.” I did as he asked, and his eyes were so honest, so raw. “You’re soft as a flower, Lydia, I wish you could see how pretty your cunt is, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.” He ran his tongue over me, darting ever so lightly over my clit. I squirmed and he gripped my thighs, holding me still. “I’m going to make you cum, and you’re going to let me. You will not fake, or exaggerate, or rush yourself for the sake of dramatics. You must relax and let it happen. Am I clear?”
I nodded.
“Deep breaths. Relax.”
I did as he instructed, regular, rhythmic breathing while he kissed his way around the soft folds of me. I moaned when he sucked my clit into his mouth, and it was all genuine. He took his time, soft growls of pleasure ramping up my own, and I soon forgot about any embarrassment, writhing against his mouth as he played me with expert care. I let out a hiss as he slid two fingers inside. “You’re tight, Lydia, so fucking tight. You’re going to feel so fucking good around my cock.” A third finger took my breath, and I started to jerk against him, adding friction. “This may feel strange, Cat, relax.” He curled his fingers inside me, pressing tight, and the pressure felt so weird, almost a low ache, but not quite painful. He worked his hand in a solid rhythm, slowly at first, until the beat overtook me and I was reaching for him, consumed by primal need I’d never felt before, and then the unthinkable happened. I needed to pee. Really bad. Really, really fucking bad. I gripped at his wrist, but he didn’t ease up.
“I need the toilet,” I rasped. “Sorry, James, I need to go.”
“You don’t, Lydia, trust me.”
Panic bloomed beneath lust. “I do, James. I really need to pee.”
“You don’t.”
I whimpered as he picked up pace a little more, pressure building. “James...”
He smiled as he pressed a hand hard on my lower belly, right on my bladder. “Piss, Lydia, if you need to, don’t fight it. Let it go.”
“I can’t...”
“You can. It isn’t piss, believe me, but even if it is...” He pressed harder, and pumped his fingers with renewed urgency until something inside me went crazy. My feet thrashed about on the bed, scuffing at the sheets for grip. “Let it go, Lydia, let it out.”
I didn’t recognise the noises coming from me: weird groans and wheezes as my hands gripped at the bed, at him, anywhere I could reach. “James!”
“That’s it, Cat, that’s it...”
The noises, oh my God the noises, slurping wet noises, all from me, but I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop. I exploded, swearing and gritting my teeth and hissing out air, bucking and jerking and kicking at the bed. My hands flattened against his back, fingers desperate for grip. He kept playing me, all the way through, keeping up a perfect rhythm until I flopped down lifeless, gasping for breath.
“Oh my God,” I said. “What the hell was that?”
He smiled. “That, Lydia, was a vaginal orgasm, which I can only assume you’ve never experienced before. A bit different from strumming your clit, don’t you think? I can only imagine Rebecca was saving some prime cuts for me, since she could have done this to you in her sleep.”
“She didn’t do that, no,” I wheezed, suddenly all too aware of wet sheets clinging to my thighs. “Did I piss? I’m so sorry!”
“That’s not piss, Cat. That’s the beginning of a squirt. Give it enough practice and you’ll be gushing across the room like the porno squirt queens.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” He licked his fingers. “And it’s delicious. You are delicious.”
I felt a grin spread across my face, endorphins dancing through me. “Can I taste you now, please?”
“Later.” He moved from position, standing to loosen his belt, I reached out my hands as he lowered his trousers, desperate for a touch of him. He looked just like his picture, thick and meaty, with a glorious dark nest of hair at the base of him.