“Listen, Adam. If we’re going to do this, you’re not going to fuck me like a good little Christian boy. You’re going to fuck me like you hate me. You’re going to fuck me so dirty your grandkids will have to repent for it. Spit on me. Pull my hair.
Slap me around. Make it the dirtiest fucking thing you’ve ever done. Okay?”
His face is frozen for a moment, his pupils slowly dilating, and that half-staff turns into a solid staff—which I guess means he gets the message.
“Okay,” he says with a crack in his voice.
“Okay,” I reply, leaning back to press record.
“Wait,” he says, stopping me. Then he reaches around to my back and with one hand, he quickly pinches the clasp of my bra and it comes free effortlessly. He slides it off before tossing it across the room.
As he glances quickly at my breasts, I feel momentarily ashamed that my nipples are already hard and tight—and have been since he walked into my apartment, looking and smelling so damn good.
Shaking off the embarrassment, I reach behind me and hit record on my phone.
“Action,” I say, turning to face him.
Our first shot is a mess. He fumbles for my hair and I struggle with where to put my hands. I start to bounce on his lap, but my rhythm is off and his thrusts don’t match mine.
Nothing about this is hot at the moment.
“Okay, cut,” I say, sitting upright and hitting the red circle on my phone to stop the recording.
“That was terrible,” he replies with a despondent sigh.
“Yes, it was.”
“Will they be able to hear us in the video?”
“I can cover it with music, or we can leave the sound on.”
“Leave it on,” he replies, suddenly looking as if he has a plan of his own.
“Okay… Take two.”
As soon as I hit the red button on my phone, the camera beeps for three seconds before it starts recording. Then, without warning, Adam’s hand is back in my hair, but this time, he pulls so hard I let out a yelp.
His hips jerk upward, sending me toward his chest. Then his mouth is next to my ear.
“Fucking ride it,” he mutters with control. I nearly gasp, just from the shock of his sudden change of demeanor. Where the hell did this come from?
With a bruising grip on my hip, he squeezes me tightly as he guides my movements, bouncing me on his lap.
I’m momentarily struck speechless as another gasp and cry escapes my lips. Because of the angle of my head, I can’t quite see his face, but I don’t need to see to know he’s really in the scene this time. He’s clearly selling it, and I’m caught off guard, so I start to worry if I’m acting the part well enough.
“Faster,” he growls, and my momentum picks up speed.
Fuck, I’m getting so hot from this. It feels…real.
Arousal blooms between my legs every time I land against his hard length, and I feel a slow build toward something that is definitely against the rules, but I can’t help it. The noises coming out of my mouth are not acting. And when the hand in my hair moves until it’s wrapped around my throat, I’m struck silent.
What the fuck is he doing?
And more importantly, why the fuck do I like it?
He yanks my face toward his, putting our lips inches apart as he sneers. “What did you say? You want me to fuck you like I hate you? Well, here you go.”
My eyes are wide as I stare into his, my hands grasping for his arm or shoulder as I keep up the rhythm of my bouncing. I
manage one last yelp just before he crashes our mouths together, kissing me hard as he tightens his grip on the sides of my neck.
His tongue invades my mouth, and I forget how to breathe.
Melting into the moment, my body tingles with the deprivation of air, and just when I start to feel as if I might pass out, everything stops.
His hand drops and I fall away from his kiss.
I’m gasping for air and waiting for my vision to focus when he says, “That should be enough, right?”
“Huh?”
“Jesus, are you okay? You told me to be rough.”
I feel as if I’m dangling at the top of a roller coaster, waiting for a rush of wind that never comes. Instantly, I snap out of it and turn around to grab my phone to hit stop on the video.
“Um…yeah, that should be perfect.”
With trembling fingers, I replay the video. My heart is still hammering in my chest, and there’s still a slight throbbing need between my legs. The minute Adam leaves, I plan to relieve that. Maybe more than once.
We’re both leaning over the phone to see the video, and it’s only slightly uncomfortable to watch. But it’s honestly…
perfect.
His face is so carnal and erotic, nothing like the virtuous church boy we see on TV. And his words are so titillating that every time I rewatch it, hearing him say fucking ride it, I feel my panties moisten more.
“Yeah…” I say, clearing my throat, “I think that will do just fine.”
Seventeen
Adam
“D amn, I look pretty fucking hot,” I say, watching the video on my phone.
Sage has done an impressive job of editing the short ten-second clip by adding a filter, cropping, and putting some soft music with a heavy beat in the background to match the action in the video.
She scoffs at my remark, rolling her eyes from across the room.
As soon as we filmed that scene, we both got dressed and I put in an order for some Chinese food to be delivered to her apartment. She’s curled up on the couch, eating lo mein out of the box, as I sit at the mismatched table in her kitchenette area with a box of fried rice.
“How many views does it have?” she asks.
“Four thousand already. Is that good?”
“Not bad,” she replies with a mouthful. “I’m sharing it on some burner accounts to get the buzz going. Let’s see if we can get this to go viral.”
Watching her from across the room, I replay the scene over in my mind. As hot as it looks on camera, it was even hotter in the moment. The way her body responded to my dominating her like that—it was more than I expected. Those sounds she made had my dick harder than it’s ever been.
Man, I really need to get laid more often. And if it wasn’t for rule number four, I would.
Rule #4: No sleeping with anyone else for the next three months.
The rule makes sense, but it’s going to make for a rough three months. I’ve never been rough with women in bed.
Mostly because the women I usually sleep with don’t really seem like the choke-me, spank-me, pull-my-hair types. And
that’s not exactly the type of thing you assume without asking first.
Fuck, am I into that shit now? I’m not that guy. I don’t want to hurt Sage, so why the hell does my cock seem to love the sound of her whimpers?
Is she into that shit?
Judging by how soaked her panties were, she seemed pretty into it. My cock twitches in my pants at the memory of how good she felt on my lap, those pretty little thighs clenching around me, and her perky little tits bouncing as she pretended to ride my cock.
For the first time since that night, I actually consider fucking Sage again. I mean…why not? It’s not like we’d ever date for real, so we might as well just screw and get the authentic thing on camera, right?