Tell Me You Love Me Ch. 03

"You think I'm pretty?" I said. I squeezed his balls and jerked his cock.

"Mm," he groaned.

"You think you can just cum all over my pretty face?" I said.

He gave an appreciative smile in the mirror but didn't take his eyes off my pictures.

"You like it when I jerk you off?" I said.

I think, now, that I was trying to get myself excited. I mean, I was excited. There was something very taboo going on but I wasn't sure exactly what. And if I was Tom's girlfriend I might be weirded out. But I wasn't Tom's girlfriend, I was the girl he paid to fuck and at the time I was just saying shit to see what was going to make him cum.

And...the thought of him cumming on my polaroid was kind of turning me on.

I was the one jerking him off. I was jerking him off while he stared at pictures of me. I was the fantasy. I was every part of the fantasy.

"You want to fuck me?" I said through gritted teeth. I pulled my left hand from under his balls and squeezed his thigh.

"Mmhmm," he groaned. He'd started pushing his hips further out, pulling them in and out in opposite rhythm to my rapid stroking. His cum was mixing between my fingers and running back and forth over his shaft. A trail of it left the tip of his dick and dripped to my carpet.

"You're already cumming in my hand," I said. I started to grind my pelvis against his leg. "You want to cum on my face?"

"Mm," he groaned. I could feel him getting closer. His cock was getting harder. I squeezed harder and felt his dick go rigid between my fingers.

"Oh, God, I can feel it," I said. My voice rose. I felt something like a contact high, like a sympathetic orgasm. "Oh, God, Tom, are you going to cum on me? Are you going to cummmm?"

He ejaculated. He let out a deep moan and I was very precise to make sure I aimed his dick right at my face. The first splurt went straight at the last photo, the one of me touching myself. The thick cum hit the photo and slid off. I pulled his dick to the side and he let out an orgasmic sigh. "Tell me you love me," I said. His semen splattered against the one of me holding my tits; another spurt came right after; it splashed on me counting the money, at me laughing. I squeezed him and I squeezed him and I aimed his dick at my naked pictures and Tom grabbed the nightstand and thrust his hips forward, cumming. "I love you," he said.

I turned my eyes from my cum spattered faces and looked down at his penis. It was growing; pumped full of blood it discharged his heavy, milky sperm, squirting, pumping. That's what was inside me when he came, I thought. That's what the condom was holding back. That deluge, that thickness. I didn't stop masturbating him. I felt his veins bulge and I increased the strokes, gripping him harder so that no drop was wasted. I made him cum on each of my photographs again, made him feel my sweaty stomach press against his back. Feel my hips gyrate against his leg. I wanted him to fuck me. Couldn't he feel I wanted him to fuck me?

I was dirty. I looked at the polaroids taped to the nightstand and I was dripping with his spunk. I don't know what Tom ate or what his metabolism did to make so much cum in that boy but damn if he didn't cum like a horse. His penis was still jerking in my hand but he'd grabbed my wrists to make me stop squeezing him. He didn't pull my hand away though so my fingers felt each strain and squeeze as he continued to cum and cum and shrink.

He pulled my hand away from his member and he whirled on me. He grabbed my other hand and I was powerless. He put his mouth on me and I kissed him. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and I tongued him back. He wrapped his big arms around my back and I felt his wet dick squeeze against my leg and I thought he was going to put it in me. I couldn't have stopped him but I would have been furious - but yes I wanted him to. But no, he squeezed me tighter and tighter against his body and he continued to kiss me and I kissed him back, closing my eyes, waiting for the dick to rise again so he would fuck me right there on my bedroom floor.

Then he broke the kiss and he wiped his mouth. And he smiled. He looked down at his dick like he was surprised it was there and shook his head. "That was something else," he said. He went over to his pants and started to unroll them.

"Is that it?" I said.

He looked over his shoulder at me. "You want me to do you?"

I looked down my nose at him. "I'm not paying you five hundred to get my rocks off. Is that all you wanted?"

He smiled and nodded. "This time, yeah. I meant do you want me to get you off?"

Again I frowned and shook my head. "No," I said. Yes, I thought. Why didn't I say yes, though?

"You sure?" He pulled his pants up.

"Whatever."

He shrugged and went to collect his shirt and socks. "Like I said, you can keep the pictures. You," he stopped himself. Then he shook his head again. "You really do look beautiful."

"Thanks."

He pulled his shirt over his head and I felt the absolute opposite of overdressed. I walked into my bathroom and pulled my robe off the door. I came back into the room and tied it around myself.

"So I was thinking," he said.

"Uh huh."

"For next time."

I crossed my arms. He gave me a quizzical look that was obviously trying to figure out my mood. I didn't like where this was going.

"I want to have sex with you while you're on the phone with your father."

I shook my head violently. "No, fuck no." I thought about it for a half-second more and added, "That's sick."

He nodded, seeming to agree. "Well, not just that, though. I want you to call him while I put it-"

"NO!" I threw my hands wide before he could even finish. I knew where he was going now. "Absolutely not!"

He tried to hide his smirk and just nodded. "Alright, figured I'd ask. I guess that's it for me then." He walked past me out the door, picking his shoes up as he went.

"What do you mean?" I said. I followed him down the hall, my robe flapping underneath me.

"I'm not saying it's always going to escalate," he said, "but that's what I want to do. Let's be fair, that's what I want to do to you. If you don't want to do it that's your choice. It's perfectly understandable. But that's what I want. Which means we're done until then."

I remained at the head of the stairs while he casually walked down them. I was still shaking my head.

"That's fucking gross and no way. I hate doing it back there."

He turned on the step. "So you have?"

"Look at me," I said.

"Mm."

"A couple times I've tried but never all the way. And we're definitely not doing that. You can't fuck my ass."

"Got it."

"We're done."

He nodded and turned, stepping leisurely down the stairs and heading towards his bag.

"Bobby's coming into town next week." I said it in a way that I hadn't meant to sound. But he turned around just the same. "I don't want you showing up or leaving me obscene phone calls or anything."

He raised his hands. "I don't even have your number."

"You could get it from Allison."

"Could," he said. "Won't."

"Don't call me," I said. "And don't talk about this, ever."

"Cat, you've put up with me for a damn sight longer than most. My dirty secrets are safe with me."

I was his dirty secret, he was saying. I didn't say anything more. I just let him walk out the door and close it behind him. After I heard the motorcycle start up and pull away, I strode back to my room.

There were the photos. Me, me, and all me. I checked out the ones taped to the edge. I was still dripping with his sperm. Pictures of me laughing, of me naked, running, holding my ass, holding my breasts; a red nipple spied between two fingers. His white cum splattered over my pussy.

The bathrobe fell open and I grabbed the edge of the nightstand. I slid two fingers down my belly and inserted them in my pussy. I was still wet. As mad at him as I was and I was still wet. I touched my clit. It lit me on fire.

I looked at myself, naked, laughing, and I fingered my cunt. I watched the semen dribble slowly down the polaroids and I remembered what Tom's dick felt like in my hand. With the same hand I was fingering myself with, with the same hand that had squeezed his cum out and with the same hand that had grabbed his shoulder when he fucked me, that counted the money with. That counted the money with, oh God!

I looked at the picture of me in my bra and panties. I was counting his money. I was covered with cum. "Fuck you," I whispered and pumped my pussy with my two fingers. "Fuck you," I hissed.

What if he were behind me now? What if he couldn't wait for me to say yes? What if he shoved his cock right up my asshole before I had a chance to say no, I hate you, I hate you! My knees wobbled a little and I sucked at my lower lip. I slid the fingers on my left hand through the glop of cum that had puddled at the edge. He made me a whore, I thought. He made me his whore. My fingers continued to play with his semen even while my other fingers played with myself. "Fuck you," I continued to whisper. I'm not your whore.

I'm not your whore, Tom. Your whore would lick her fingers. I pulled my fingers out of my pussy and stuck them in my mouth. I tasted my vagina on my fingers and slathered my tongue over my fingertips. I squeezed them back between my legs and continued to bang myself. Your whore would eat your cum.

I wasn't thinking straight. I thought through the hot, burning need that fumbled and pulsed between my thighs. I slid a dollop of his semen off the photograph and popped it in my mouth. I sucked on my fingers until I knew that it was all gone. I swallowed. I swallowed bits of his sperm, the fluid that I had squeezed out of his balls, the seed that would impregnate a girl if she didn't make him wear a condom. I can't believe I did it. I did it again. I wiped his semen off my photo and put it on my tongue. I tasted his salty spunk and swallowed. I swallowed and I came in my hand.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" I hissed as I rocked against my nightstand and tried to stay on my feet. Boys always wanted more. I wiped my mouth and grabbed all the photographs. I ripped the ones we'd taped to the nightstand and took them all and buried them in my bathroom wastebasket. I'd burn them when I had a chance, after I'd showered. To hell with Tom, I thought. And then I tripped. I caught myself against the bathroom sink but I waited this time for the emotion to ebb. My knees turned to jelly and the last wave of my orgasm passed through me like a monsoon passing by.