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“Excellent idea,” he agreed with a slow smile.
I dipped my fingers into the gel, then slowly drew them around the nipple of my right breast. I was shocked at how well the stuff worked; the moment it touched my skin, I felt like the standing air was a cold breeze. My nipple and aureole tightened into a hard peak, and goose bumps stood out on my firm skin.
“Very nice,” Neil complimented, and I turned my attention to the other breast, repeating my actions from before.
I swirled my fingers around the pink tips in wide circles that narrowed with each pass. My breasts felt heavy and full, my nipples stood tall, practically begging for attention from my hands. I skimmed my palms over the sticky gel, my breath catching.
“How does that feel?” he asked, and I let out a shaky sigh. His eyebrows flicked up. “That good?”
“Very good,” I murmured. “I never usually touch myself like this.”
“I find that very difficult to believe.” He reached for his fly and tugged the zipper down. “Considering the greeting you gave me at the hotel.”
I made a noise of impatience, drawing my fingers along the bottom curves of my breasts. “That’s not what I mean. Most of the time, I just head straight down south.”
“Ah.” He pulled his penis from his boxers. He was semi-erect and growing harder as he slowly stroked himself.
My pulse sped up. I’d watched past partners jerk off before, and it had definitely turned me on. There was something shocking and intimate about watching a man touch himself. But they had always been doing it while watching internet porn. Not one of them had ever jacked off while watching me.
“Take your panties off,” he said, gliding his hand up and down. “Let me see you.”
It was with great reluctance that I pulled my hands from my aching breasts to slide the black lace over my bottom, up the slope of my bent legs to my knees, and then down. I knew I was wet, and that he could probably tell, with my legs spread apart the way they were.
He sighed contentedly. “There. That’s what I’ve been thinking about all day. I’d love to feel you right now.”
“I can feel me,” I teased, reaching down to press two fingertips into my opening, just a tiny bit.
“I see that.” He smiled his half smile, lazily gliding his hand up and down that big cock.
“I want you,” I whimpered, circling my clit. “This is totally unfair, you know.”
“Didn’t you wear your hair pulled back today?” he asked suddenly.
“Y-yeah.” Why did that matter?
“Get the rubber band,” he said, his hand stilling. “Let’s try something.”
I reached across to my nightstand and grabbed the hair tie, holding it up so he could see. “What exactly are we trying, here?”
“I’d rather be there to do this to you, myself, but I suppose since that isn’t possible tonight, you’ll have to do it,” he said, his voice low and dark with the promise of something incredible to come. “Put the rubber band around your first and second fingers, and spread it out.”
I did as he ordered, trepidation creeping into my mind. “I think I know where this is going.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked, in that tone I was so used to obeying.
“Yes, Sir,” I answered. “Put the rubber band against your thigh, and use your other hand to snap it.”
I swallowed and placed the stretched hair tie against the top of my thigh. Neil made an admonishing noise. “Not there. The inside.”
I took a deep breath and moved my hand. The ponytail holder rested against the curve of my inner thigh, just above my pussy, and I grasped one side of the elastic, drawing it up between the thumb and forefinger of my other hand. Mentally counting to three, I let it go. Smarting pain blossomed in my skin, nothing I couldn’t handle.
“Oh, Sophie, you disappoint me,” Neil scolded. “Harder. Let’s see it leave a mark.”
I mewled in protest, but I pulled it up again, further this time, stretching the band tight. When it slapped back down, I yelped in surprise and watched as pink flushed my skin around a shocking white welt.
“Very good.” Neil was stroking his cock, rolling the foreskin up and over the head, then back down as he watched me. “Now, do it again, but this time do it to your clit.”
“Are you nuts?” I laughed in disbelief. “You want me to snap my clit with a ponytail holder?”
“If I were there, I would do it for you,” he said again, apologetically. “I can give you the command, if you like.”
“That’s going to hurt like a motherfucker,” I pointed out.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “But have we done anything yet that you didn’t like?”
“No,” I admitted grumpily. To my dismay, I was aching, throbbing at the thought of that bee-sting of pain.
