When I drop her down she steps back, the backs of her thighs butting up against the bed, breathing heavily, just like me.
“Who do you want to be?”
That question again. Like she can see straight into me through the confused haze.
Be selfish, she said. So I respond with the first thing that pops into my head. “The man who watches you come tonight.”
It’s true, but it’s also not enough. I want to be so much more than that.
Bailey’s eyes dance across my face, flitting from eye to eye as she rolls her lips together. Finally, she nods slowly as she lowers herself to sit on the edge of the mattress, the warm glow of the bedside lamp making her smooth skin shimmer.
“The box is under the bed, Beau.”
I crouch and reach, feeling the cool edge of a small plastic box. When I pull it out, it resembles something you might store old keepsakes in. I open it and find about ten different toys. Various colors, shapes, and sizes.
I swallow.
My fingers trail over the edge as my brain flips over into a place where I’m functioning only on instinct. Images of Bailey using these, squirming, moaning—in the room next to me or in her trailer just across the lawn—flash through my head.
I consider my options. Slender with a second arm. Hot pink. Another that looks like—
“Listen, if you’re going to back out, why don’t you just—”
My hand wraps around the one that looks like a real dick, thick and heavily veined. I push to stand and cup her cheek with my other hand, running my thumb over her plush lips. Pushing them to the side and watching them pop back into place. “Bailey, what did I tell you about running your mouth?”
A demure smile curves her lips as she says, “That you’d find something creative to do with it.”
Her smile may not be so demure after all.
I lean down and whisper, “Brat,” just before I press my lips to hers. When I swipe my tongue into her mouth, she makes this happy little humming noise and tips her head back. Tangling her tongue with mine, her hands go from gripping the edge of the bed to wrapped around my neck. Pulling me closer. Kissing me deeper.
I let her. And for several seconds, I kiss her back. Taking pleasure in the feeling of being so wanted. So needed.
So alive.
When I eventually pull back, she drops her arms from around my neck, and I chuckle, deep and raspy. “Is that what you thought I meant by creative, sugar?” Her eyes widen when I trail the head of the silicon cock over her lips. “Open, Bailey.”
She does.
“Tongue out. Nice and flat. Like you’re begging for it.”
Her fingers dig into the mattress as her thighs squeeze together. Then her mouth opens wide, and she sticks her tongue out, just like I instructed.
I feel like I’m going to burst right through my fucking boxers as I slide the toy over her extended tongue while she stares up at me. Ready. Nipples pointed against thin cotton.
I push it back, watching the fake cock fill her mouth, lips thinning as she wraps them around its girth.
Fuck, I wish it were me.
It will be me.
I drag it back out, her saliva coating it, and then glide it in again. Further this time, but not too far. I’ll save that for another day.
“Can I go further?” I ask, working it in and out.
She nods, and I pump it into her again.
“Suck, Bailey. Move your tongue. But no teeth. Open wide for me.”
I watch her adapt. Her cheeks hollow out, and I almost blow in my fucking shorts.
Saliva coats her lips, a string of it stretching between the toy and her mouth when I pull it all the way out and go back for more. Easing back in. I watch her lips part around it again.
“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” I look her in the eye when I say it.
A little whimper lodges in her throat, and she reaches for my hips, bracing herself. Bracketing my cock. My palm on her hair gently paces her motion.
“You’re doing so well, Bailey,” I murmur in the quiet room, easing back out just a bit.
And then she does it. Mouth stuffed full, she moves one hand and lets it roam over my rock-hard dick.
“Fuck,” I groan. Eyes fluttering shut.
She adds a second hand, tugging my shorts down and gripping me. Soft, tentative hands roam my body.
There’s an innocence to it. It’s exploratory. And I let her go on the adventure. My hips buck forward without even meaning to.
Her eyes flit to mine as one hand moves down to cup my balls while the other works up and down my length.
“Careful, Bailey.”
She draws back, the rubber cock leaving her lips with a wet popping sound. “Why?”