Page 69 of A Wreck, You Make Me

My words are swallowed because I feel something again. But this time, it’s in my pussy.Onmy pussy. A touch that makes me jump and look down. And holy God, what I see pretty muchmakes me pass out. My thighs are still spread and still flushed pink. They’re still glistening with my juices. But what steals my breath and stops my heart is the fact that his boot is right there. The edged toe of his black boot is touching me.

Right there.

In my swollen and wet pussy.

And then my heart jumpstarts back up because he moves it. He moves the toe of his boot and rubs it right between the lips of my pussy. But he doesn’t stop there. He somehow finds the exact spot, my clit, and when he grazes the boot on there, my hips jump. They dance. They twist on the edge of his boot and a moan erupts out of me.

“And no one can do this either, can they?” he asks.

I snap my eyes up and he does it again. Uses his boot to rub my clit and all I can do is moan. All I can do is grab hold of my tits even harder and move my hips to the rhythm of his actions as I answer, “No, o-only you.”

“Yeah, only me. OnlyIcan make my Little Strawberry dance on my boot.”

I blush and whimper in response.

But he isn’t happy with it so he goes, “But then again, you’ll dance anywhere I’ll tell you to because you’re mine.”

“Yours,” I confirm.

“You’ll always be mine.”

I nod. “Always.”

“Even when I leave you, I won’t let anyone else have you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Camera,” he reminds. “Tell it to the camera.”

And my eyes skid away from his boot, playing with my pussy, and up to the phone he’s still holding and as I move and move my hips. “Shepard won’t let anyone else have me b-because I’m his.”

“Yeah, you are.”

I clench my eyes shut as I keep writhing. “Shepard, I n-need…”

“I know what you need.”

And then he pulls me closer. He uses his hand on my throat to tug at me while at the same time, moving his boot in a way that I find myself almost sitting on it. While my mind is still trying to comprehend what’s happening, my body already knows what to do and the words slip out, “Thank you.”

Before I let go of my tits and grab his calf and start humping his boot. I start rubbing my pussy on it. I look down and it has to be the most obscene thing I’ve ever seen. The most arousing thing I’ve ever seen. My pussy spreads open on the leather, leaving trails of my juice, making it glisten. Polishing his boot almost.

God, why does it feel so shameful and yet so arousing at the same time? I want to stop but I also never ever want to stop. I want to tell him that I hate this but I also love it. I love it so,somuch that my hips keep moving and jerking and chasing something bigger than a climax. Or at least that’s what it feels like as I writhe and writhe and keep writhing, digging my nails in his calf, moaning and whimpering like some kind of an animal in heat. A bitch in heat for him.

And it only gets worse, when he comes closer. I hear the clatter of his phone falling to the ground before I feel his hand in my hair, fisting the strands. He tugs my head back, rests his forehead with mine and commands, “Say it. Say, thank you for letting me ride your boot, Shepard.”

“Thank you…” I pant, my eyes closed, my hands on his wrists now as I keep going, “for letting me ride your boot, Shepard.”

“’Thank you for making me feel so good.’”

“Thank you for making me feel so good,” I say, moaning, so close, so very close to coming. But something is missing. I wantsomething from him. Something more. Something like a kiss. And I go to say that. I go to ask him for it, for him to finish what we started all those months ago. In that parking lot before his life turned upside down.

I mean, it makes sense, right? His life went awry back then. He lost his championship. He lost the girl he loves. The whole world started to turn against him. But tonight, we claim everything back. Or at least, start to. Tonight is the beginning of fixing everything. The beginning of us. So we should kiss, shouldn’t we?

But before I can say anything, he commands, “Come, now. Come on my boot. Come like the whore you are. My good little whore.”

And then I have no choice but to do that. I have no choice but to come. I always thought it was made up. That someone can command your body to do things at their will. But it’s not. It’s real. As real as someone commanding your heart. If someone can make your heart to beat faster, your blood to pump faster, why can’t they command your body too?

Why can’t he when he commands everything else in my life? When he’s the man I love.