Page 36

Story: Art of Convenience

I pull my fingers out and she yelps, “No! What are you?—?”

“Turn around.” My voice is as deep as I wish I was inside her.

Her eyes stay on mine through the mirror a moment longer before she turns her body to face me. I pull her body flush with mine, my cock now pressing into her stomach through my pants. My face hovers over her and to my surprise, she doesn’t shy away from the prolonged eye contact.

If there was ever a time to stop, it would be now. “Camila?—”

Her lips crash into mine. It’s not gentle; she's no longer exploring. Her mouth parts open and I pull her bottom lip into mine, nipping and sucking. A faint metallic taste coats my tongue. As our tongues tease each other the moment of doubt I had flies out the window. There’s no going back now.

I pull back,fuck she’s so beautiful.Her bottom lip is fuller now and a deep red color fills her cheeks. I drop to my knees in front of her and slide the bottom part of her dress out of the way. Finally, face to face with her pussy, I can’t waste my time taking off the lace fabric. I slide my index fingers down her center andrip a hole in her underwear. She's glistening for me.

Her smooth ankle feels so delicate in my hand. I drag my fingers up her calf, lifting her leg before I drape it over my shoulder, and slowly begin licking my way up her thigh.

“Wait!” Her cold hands reach between her and grab the sides of my face. I pause, looking up at her. Maybe she’s stronger than I am. Maybe she’s going to tell me to stop. That we can’t do this. I’m ready for anything, but then she says, “I—I’ve never done this before.”

Anything but that. I swear I hear a ringing in my ear as if a bomb just went off. My insides go feral. I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in a lot of things, but at this moment I have to believe in something. Because on what planet would I get to be the first person to get to make her fall apart like this?

I feel the absolute wickedness in the smile that comes over me. “Then you better hold on tight.” I begin peppering kisses along her inner thigh. “Camila...” She makes a sound somewhere between a “huh?” and a moan. “Eyes on me.” I flatten my tongue and run a path all the way up to her clit, lapping up her arousal.

“Oh fuck!” she screams as her hips buck forward.

I pull her into my mouth, relishing in her taste. When her hands find my hair and her nails dig in, I wonder if she can feel me smile against her. Her body begins to wither beneath me, “It’s too much,” she says, shaking her head back and forth. I grip her ass with one hand to steady her, “Please!”

“Please what, Camila?” My other hand slides up to tease her entrance.

Her glossy eyes fixate on me. “I need to come.”

Her words are my undoing. I thrust both fingers in, curling them, hitting that spot hidden inside her while my tongue continues toroll over her clit. My chest goes weightless as her body trembles. She comes apart before me but I don’t stop. I continue to fuck her with my tongue as she cries my name over and over while continuing to squeeze and soak my fingers.

When she’s rung out the last of her orgasm, I stand making quick work of my zipper. My throbbing cock springs out of my briefs, smacking my stomach. Camila's eyes turn dark. She still hasn't caught her breath but her tongue still swipes along her bottom lip anyway. As tempting as her mouth is—and trust that I would do vile things to have the pleasure of her mouth on me, that’s not why I brought her in here. And I won't let her forget why we're here.

Reaching between Camila’s legs, I swipe my hand up her inner thighs, soaking up what’s left of her arousal. My hand drags up until I reach her dripping pussy and she jerks at the touch. Her eyes go wide when I hold my hand out in front of her.

“Spit.”

Her heavy breathing catches as her stare darts between my eyes and my hand. I’m about to do it myself when she surprises me by dipping her head to my palm, eyes on me, and in the most demure way possible, she spits in it.

A deep rumble vibrates in my chest at the sight. Her breathing slows while her chest rises and falls in a deeper rhythm now and a lighter blush paints her cheeks.

I grab a hold of my shaft, and stroke it at an unbearably slow pace because if I add any kind of pressure I’m absolutely going to be a two-pump chump.

“Hearing you beg for what you want made me so fucking hard.”

Pump pump.

“It’s not your job to please anyone, you understand me? Everyone else needs to get on their goddamn knees for you. None of them matter.”

Stroke.

“Seeing you in that dress tonight, knowing you wore that underwear for me, feeling how wet you were...”

Her eyes go from confusion to understanding to bold and I can feel my own orgasm building. My lower back is on fire, tingling in anticipation.

“Whose wife are you, Camila?” I’m panting now, my strokes turning into uncontrolled jerky movements.

Her eyes focus intently on me as she slides the strap of her dress down her arm and pulls the front of her dress down, exposing her full breasts to me. Her dress hangs at her waist and it’s my turn to be shocked when she leans back against the vanity. “Yours.”

It takes two seconds and one last stroke and I blow all over her chest and stomach. Dark spots threaten the corners of my eyes but I quickly blink them away and slow my breathing down in time to watch Camila’s jaw fall. She’s likely in shock from the way I just fucked my hand and spilled my cum all down her chest. But my breath stalls when she brings one of those polished fingers over her breast. She slides her rock-hard nipples between her fingers, coating them in the mess I made.