She knocked on the door of his apartment lightly, as if worried someone else might hear. He was waiting, though. He stood there, with the closed door between them, letting her sweat a little, before finally opening it.
She was sort of cowering in the overly bright hall, in an oversized coat, with a large bag. She looked up at him through her bangs and said “Hi.” Her cheeks were already red, though it could have been from the cold. He let her in.
“You got the instructions?” He asked casually.
“Of course,” she seemed almost offended.
“And you understood them? Any questions? Any issues?”
She chewed on the questions, looking down, licking her lips. “I don’t think I have any questions. I mean, actually… So you said you wouldn’t touch me. Just watch?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you asked for initially. Do you want to change that?”
She swallowed. “Do you want to change that?”
The corner of his lip curled into a grin. “I thought I’d been pretty clear that I’d very much like to touch you, but you have some specific concerns and boundaries. Is that still the case?”
“I guess I just want to know that you want to touch me.”
His brown eyes narrowed. “Is that the scene you want to have? Knowing how much I want to touch you?”
She squirmed, then let out a little grin. “Maybe.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “How about this? I’m only going to touch you if you beg.”
She pouted. “What if you beg?”
He cocked his head. “I have more self-control than you. I’m not a little show-off slut.”
She pouted more.
“And what about touching me?” He asked, straightening. His smirk turned into a smile.
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” She considered that for a while. “I guess I might touch you… if you begged.”
“That’s a lot of theoretical begging.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Theoretically.”
“Or maybe you’re just procrastinating.”
She winced at the accusation. She took a deep breath and took off her sweater. Under it, she was wearing a cropped t-shirt. Pulling off the sweater pulled up the shirt to expose her pale belly and, for a moment, the very bottom of her bare breasts.
She looked up at him, big eyes under thick lashes, and smiled at his reaction. “This is what you wanted me to wear, right?”
“Yes,” he hissed. Her smile grew.
“Just this shirt and nothing else. I want to make sure I got it right,” she clarified, though it was obvious there was no confusion. His eyes on her made her bolder and her smile grow.
“Since you’ve been adamant in our texts about the no-touching rule, and then you come here and ask about it, I think we need to be very clear about that,” he said, clearing his throat.
“That makes sense.”
“Changing the parameters of something mid-scene is not a good idea.”
“Right.”
“So you’re going to have to figure out what you actually want before we start,” he said more seriously.
She pouted again. “I want us to touch each other, but I’m a little scared, too.”
“We could put limits on how much we touch.”
She swallowed. “Maybe… we can touch each other, but we can’t fuck.”
“Define fuck,” he said seriously.
She rolled her eyes, but then considered it. “You can’t put your penis in my vagina.”
“What about your mouth?”
A sneaky smile spread over her lips. “Maybe.”
Jack took a deep breath. “Maybe isn’t a particularly helpful word in this negotiation. So, you will do what you came here to do, and after that, if you beg me… then I might touch you, but not fuck you. And if I beg you, you might touch me. But we’re not going to fuck — though you might suck my cock if you are feeling needy enough.”
She nodded, faux seriously. “That is an excellent summary and I agree.”
He pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. “Excellent. Now you can commence with your little show,” he directed with a smile.
She huffed and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “This was your idea,” she said, pulling off her sneakers and then her jeans. She left them in a pile next to the bed. He looked at them and then at her.
“You’re going to just leave those on the floor?” He asked, clenching his jaw.
She shrugged. He glared. “We’ll talk about that after the show,” he promised.
“Whatever,” she sighed with another roll of her eyes. She looked at his frown from the corner of her eye and reveled in it.
Her brattiness seemed to falter once her panties were at her ankles. She chewed her bottom lip as she lifted the panties with her toe and deposited them on top of her jeans, her hand in the air, fingers spread, as she balanced.
She looked pretty in only the cropped t-shirt — her little belly, the swell of her hips, the natural triangle of dark hair between her thighs, her muscular legs, and her dainty feet.
The bed seemed to loom over her. On top of the pretty floral sheets sat a square of smooth polished wood, and stuck to the wood was a purple dildo with a suction-cup bottom. The silicone cock swayed slightly as she took a deep breath and climbed onto the mattress.
“Lube?” She asked, her throat suddenly dry.
“Under the pillow. Something tells me you won’t need much.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. But he was right — her thighs were already slick. She took the small bottle from under the pillow and squirted some of the clear liquid onto her fingers. When she rubbed it against her pussy she let out a little whimper, and her cheeks darkened.
She knelt next to the wooden board, examining it and swiveling her hips, calculating her approach. She reached out and wrapped her slick fingers around the purple cock, lubricating it, stroking it a little.
He watched as she closed her eyes. She said something to herself silently, then swung her leg over the wood. She was up on her knees, over the toy, her eyes still closed, one hand holding the purple silicone.
Her breathing became more pronounced. Her t-shirt moved slightly as her breasts rose and fell. The long line from her naked belly down to her hips and legs was accentuated by the short shirt. Somehow it made her look even more naked.
Her toes curled and uncurled as she lowered herself a little — enough for the dildo to make contact with her pussy. She didn’t slip it in, just held it against her for a moment. Her eyes stayed closed and her breath came in short labored pulses.
And he watched. Sat at the edge of his seat. Eyes moving up and down the line of her body and stopping at the dark hair between her legs. The flash of wet pink. The point of connection with slick purple.
She guided the dildo into her pussy and her mouth opened. A burst of a moan as she faced the ceiling. Her exposed neck, bare and smooth and vulnerable. His eyes on her neck, then down to the t-shirt that barely covered her breasts, then the round slight belly, then the dildo slowly disappearing into her.
For a moment there was a frantic little movement, as she tried to find the best angle, the best place to put her hands. Measuring how far her knees should be apart, how much of the dildo she could take.
“It’s been-” she started, not opening her eyes. “A while. Since I’ve had something this big, inside me,” she blurted between gasps and moans.
“I can see it. Slipping in. Stretching to take it,” he said, his voice thick with want.
There was something in the frantic way she rubbed herself that seemed distinctly non-performative. The reality of self pleasure. The need bringing her to a feral alone state.
He noted how she paused on the dildo, just holding it inside of her, still as she rubbed her clit. Then she would stop rubbing and ride up and down on the cock. Never both sensations at once. Each sensation building against the other.
He nodded as he watched, processing her method. He smiled, planning his own manipulation of her body. His eyes focused on the bottoms of her breasts, visible again. He licked his lips. The swell of her hips. Her thick thighs. Her belly. Her pussy. He could smell it.
He squirmed as he watched. He bargained with himself, reminding himself of the rules in place. Begging. He’d like to hear her bratty mouth beg.
She opened her eyes, her fingers slowing. She bit her bottom lip and looked at him. Their eyes met. She shuttered as her body registered his eyes on her. “You ready to beg yet?” She said, the confidence coming in and out in little waves.
His eyes narrowed. “Beg for what? To kneel down in front of you and replace your fingers with my tongue?” He said, with a voice annoyingly steady. “Or replace that toy with my cock?”
Her hips rutted out, back arching as she sank down on the toy again. The comeback was stuck in her throat for a minute. “Maybe… just beg to touch these,” she whispered and pulled her shirt up just enough to expose her hard nipples.
She watched his jaw clench and unclench. Looked down to see the bulge in his jeans, smiling at the victory in that.
“Imagine I was sinking down on you like this.” Her eyes closed again as she rode up and down.