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I lay back on the carpet. Might as well.

“Come for me, baby.” She squeezes; I grimace in painful pleasure. “You’ve earned it.”

She’s not gentle.

The Avalon jerks against my mound, rubbing the ridges against my clit while the vibrations claim my entire pelvis. I want to come now, but Kathleen is quick, diverting the vibrations before I have the chance to climax. Instead, I’m stuck here, feeling orgasm at the edge of my body and brain while the loveliest woman in the world masturbates me and occasionally kisses the tip of our shared prosthetic. Because I know it’s not mine, even if it looks like one of mine. It’s hers. I know my Katie takes good care of her playthings, and that includes me.

And it, which is plenty wet from her riding me, and let me tell you, that alone should be sending me to the moon. I was worthy enough to be on this end of her lovemaking.

Instead, it’s marking me with agony. I take her wrist and groan, venting my annoyance.

“I wanna see you explode, Mathison,” she growls. “Do it for me.”

For you, Katie? I’ll come five times. Instead, I have to be content with one. A big one.

It begins in my core, expanding in heat and desire until I’m engulfed in such an intense climax that I think I might… well, no, I’m pretty sure I’m dying. This is truly, surely the feeling of someone on the brink of death. I’ve got a heart attack coming, and the only one keeping me from keeling over is Kathleen, the woman pushing the vibrations hard against my skin and rubbing the ridges in circles on my clit. I know exactly what my body is going to do. So does she, as she coaches me through my orgasm.

She yanks the prosthetic away just in time for me to burst. I can’t see it, but I feel it: my squirt, which I love to claim my beloved with, is now all over her floor. There’s nothing more humbling than that.

When I do come back to the real world, I’m still groaning because of my poor, stupid cunt, which is being taunted by the vibrations again. Before I can be in a world of trouble, my Kathleen pulls it away and presses her mouth against my slit with soothing breaths.

If I were more connected to this world, I would find it so fucking hot.

Kathleen pulls herself up and breathes into my ear. “I love you, too.”

It’s sweet. It’s wholesome, despite the mess I’ve made in my Queen’s apartment. If I spent the rest of the night down here, feasting on my own relief and the knowledge that I was a good sub who did exactly what Her Highness commanded, I could go to sleep easily. Hopefully, wrapped in her arms.

“My, my, you are incredibly wet,” Kathleen muses above me.

I barely open my eyes. “I hope so. I came hard enough to shake the whole building.”

“I like that, you know.” With the Avalon in her hand, she kneels between my spread legs. It would be a glorious sight to behold if it weren’t for how placated I am. “How long have we been screwing each other now? If anyone knows that I’m not afraid of putting my partner away wet, it’s me.” Her tongue flicks against the tip of the Avalon, and I sigh, wishing once more that this were a different kind of night. “There’s so much we can do with this state of being you sport right now, Ira.”

When she slaps a harness on the floor next to us, I suddenly realize what she’s planning.

“Whoa, whoa.” Don’t get me wrong – the way she confidently snaps on the harness is hot. I’d pay for a professional photoshoot to capture the sight of my smoke show of a girlfriend kneeling with her thighs spread, the Avalon Lite securely snapped to her pelvis as she leans back and stretches her shoulders and spine. “Pink. Pink.”

“Hm? I wasn’t doing anything without warning.” Her glowing demeanor does not falter as she looms over me, her Avalon Lite a stalwart reminder of what I probably look like to the number of women I’ve taken to bed over the years. Dear God, Kathleen was not kidding when she promised me she was familiar with the line of strap-ons and packing prosthetics. I do not doubt for a second she knows how to use that thing.

On me!

“You really want to, though.” I attempt to keep my voice even as my body goes through a hundred scenarios. It’s tired. It’s turned on. It’s wary as heck.

“Of course I do. What, do you think you’re the only one who likes to pound some soft flesh until it’s nice and red? Sweetheart, I wrote the book.”

Did she have to put it that way? “Pardon me for breaking the scene, my Queen, but I think you’ll find that certain parts of mine are not as well-acquainted with such majesty as, uh, others you may have been with.”

“What others, Ira?”

“You know, the… others…”

She grins. All teeth, no leverage. “We’re all allowed our boundaries, of course, but I’d like to point out you’ve been in places I don’t usually allow people, either.”

“I am well aware.”

Her nose is close enough to mine that I smell her sweat. “All the more reason for me to claim the cunt you’re so protective of.”

Why are my thighs trembling? Any other woman between my legs, and I’d say it was nerves. Like an alarm sounding that sends every guard in a one-mile radius on alert. Or… is it possible that I like the idea of her just… going… crazy…