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I don’t know how to do this. I glance up to him and immediately regret it. He’s smirking, delighted with his victory. I’d rather look at his cock.
There’s something obscene about seeing him still completely dressed in his blazer, shirt and tie, pants unzipped but not undone, while my legs are spread and bare.
I pump his dick with my fist.
Jason shifts closer to me, placing one hand back on my folds, and grabbing a fistful of my hair with the other. He tugs at my ponytail until I sit up, and brings my mouth to his.
His fingers resume their attention, and my body responds, never caring that it’s being pleasured by the devil.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. And for a moment, I hate myself too, because he feels so good.
“The tip. Move your hand higher, toward the tip. Grasp it tighter.”
I do as I’m told. I’ve had enoughconsequencesto last me a lifetime.
I didn’t think it was possible, but the furnace inside me rages hotter, tighter, until I can’t take it. Everything inside and around me explodes.
I fall back on the bed, limp and confused.
I thought I’d come before. I was wrong. If this was an orgasm, I’ve never experienced it until now.
When my senses return, I notice I’ve let go of his cock, and I look up at Jason, apprehension waking my frazzled mind.
He doesn’t seem pissed this time. He’s taken the matter in his own hands, so to speak, expertly rocking his fist around his shaft. I don’t move. I don’t make a sound. I just watch, my own core unexplainably stirring.
A translucent stream spurts out of him, staining both the bed and me. Hot and viscous, the substance is everywhere, from my thigh to my stomach.
I make a face. “Ew.”
Jason lifts an eyebrow. “Oh? I can make you swallow it next time if you’d rather avoid the mess.”
Next time.
All the dormant fury slams back into me. I sit up and draw my hand back to slap his smug face. He grabs my wrist before I can hit him. “Violence is never the answer, sweet.”
“You’re telling me that, afterthis?”
Jason laughs. “Was I violent?”
My heart drops. I wish he had been. I wish he’d held me down and forced himself on me, so every part of me could have safely abhorred the experience. Instead, he made me participate. He made me choose. He made my body enjoy it.
“There will never be anexttime. You’re lucky if I don’t report you to the police for this.”
His chuckle makes me try to slap him with my other hand. He catches that one too, and moves my hands behind my back, before drawing me close to him. “But doll, you asked me to fill you with my cum.” He bats his long lashes and pouts. “I suppose you could complain I only bathed you with it.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Right now, you are.”
A different kind of fear clogs my brain. “Are you…” I feel myself blushing. “Are you clean?”
As far as sexual experiences go, this perverted version of it had been fairly safe, but he’s touched my pussy with his cock, and some of his sperm might have gotten on my clit or something. I’m no expert. If he gave me a STD…
I feel even sicker than I have at any point so far today.
The question amuses him. “Squeaky. Are you?”
I don’t dignify that with an answer.
