He noticed, and his hands stilled. “You want to go?” he asked. Gently. Almost kindly. But with his pinky still wedged in my crack.
I opened my mouth to say yes, but I couldn't. And then I thought, Jesus, what a head case, and I took a deep breath and went for fucking broke.
“I like rough,” I said, my voice shaky at first, but it got stronger as I went on. “And I like it when I'm told what to do. If you want me ass-up on the bed, you say so. Trash talking is good. You want to tell me I'm your pony or your dog you're fucking, I can do that. I think hotel carpets are gross, so I'd rather not do puppy play on the floor. But in bed's okay. You can tie me up or gag me, but I don't care for both at once. I don't do shower blowjobs because it makes me feel like I'm drowning. I have done watersports, but I don't mind skipping that. But slapping is fine. So is biting so long as you don't draw blood. Pinching is good. Especially my nipples and my ass. Hickeys are okay, but I like to keep them where I can hide them.”
I had started talking really fast by the end, and when all of it was out, I let out a breath and waited. After a few seconds, Loving's hand cupped my cock.
“Public exposure?”
His fingers were already on my zipper. I shuddered and pushed my hips forward into his grip. “So long as I don't get arrested.”
“Fair enough.” He pinched my ass hard enough to make me jump. “Unbutton your fly and put your hands on the table.”
Chapter Two
Now that I'd made the decision to give in to Loving, I didn't see any reason not to sin as big as I liked. I mean, if you're gonna steal a chicken, eat the whole damn thing.
I still had a little bit of panic, but it was sliding quickly under my lust. Loving's fingers shifted against my ass as I fumbled with my fly. I undid all the buttons, but I was slow, because he was kneading me hard from the back. I mean, hard. He was more aggressive than I thought he would have been, so much so that actually if he'd been a stranger, I'd have had him dial back. But with Loving I felt okay with it. I finished with my jeans and put my hands on the table as he'd told me to do.
He pinched again, hard enough that I felt it in my cock. “Good boy.”
His hand on my thigh slipped up to my underwear. I liked the way he just dug in. He stuffed his hand inside my briefs, taking my cock in a tight grip. I looked down and shivered at the sight of his hand moving against me beneath the fabric.
“You like the look of that, do you? Like watching me grab you right here where anyone can see?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, keeping my eyes on the sight. I could see his hairy wrist at the waistband, but the rest was just digging. I pushed up into his hand, humping a little.
His hand at the back had his finger burrowing into my crack, insistent this time. It pressed against my asshole, and I pushed back to let it in.
His hand in front didn't stop moving as he spoke, but his fingertip only pushed gently at my backside. “We're doing this dry.”
“Yeah,” I said, and opened more for him. “I can take it. Push it in.”
I listened carefully for his response. Some guys really get off that I will do dry. Loving was hard to read, though. He said nothing, just pushed in.
A dry finger up my ass is oddly focusing. It's sexy, and it's not. It's an invasion in a way that lube isn't quite. It feels more like using to me, and to be done like this out in the open really turned me on. He had his finger up inside my ass all the way to the hilt while I looked down and watched his hand moving roughly inside my pants, and holy shit, but I was ready to bend over the table here and now.
“I think it's time to move this to a private room,” Loving said, but his hands were still working pretty insistently on and in me. “Your hotel or mine?”
“Yours.” I liked the idea of being able to get away and end it, not having to wait until he decided. Of course, I couldn't drive because I was so drunk, so I wasn't going to have a car.
He played with me a little more, and so I started humping him, moving his finger up and down inside me, pushing into his hand. I could see other guys watching us out of the corner of my eye. I felt like such a whore. So cheap. So everything nasty and raunchy. I almost wished he could take me right here.
I moved faster on his finger.
He hooked it inside me, making me gasp and go still. He flexed his finger a few times, stroking my insides.
“You're nice and tight,” he told me. “Milk my finger.” I did, but then his hand came out of my underwear and slid up inside my T-shirt. He pinched my nipple, and I gasped. He crooked his finger again. “Harder. Clench harder. Yes. Like that.”
I milked him with my ass, and he rewarded me with several pinches on my nipples, first the left side and then the right. Pretty soon we had an audience, and I was gasping and rolling my hips. My hands had not left the table.
“They're going to kick us out,” Loving remarked, but he didn't stop molesting me. He was tugging outright on my nipples now, pulling them sharply and then rolling them inside his fingers. “You like this, what I'm doing to you? Pinching you and fucking your ass?”
“I do,” I said.
“Is it too hard?”
I shook my head. “You can go a lot harder.”
He pinched so hard that I saw stars and gasped. “Like this?” He pinched again. I couldn't speak, but I nodded.
He resumed his nipple torture, alternating still, but he kept it hard. Really hard. “They're watching you. Six guys at the tables in front of us. They know what I'm doing to you.”
“Yeah.” God, I was loving it.
“You truly are incredibly tight. Tell me how it feels to have my finger inside you.”
“Hot.” I clenched around him again. “Hot and dirty.”
“I'd like to watch my finger go in. I'd like to just see your ass, with your hands holding it open while I push my finger inside you.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, wishing we were doing it already.
“Do you like this, Monroe? Do you like being fucked like this?”
“Yes, sir.” But I had to add, “Please call me Roe, sir. Not even my mom called me Monroe.”
“You're very polite. Are you calling me sir because I'm your boss, or because my finger is in your ass?”
“Both, sir.”
He laughed, and to my disappointment, both his hands disappeared. But he pinched my ass before he withdrew completely. “Stand and do yourself up. We're going to go.”
I did as I was told. I spared a glance at the men who had been watching at me. I'm only a little bit of an exhibitionist, but I liked that they had seen. I liked that if they ever saw me again, they would look at me and know I was a slut. That all the bad things everybody had said about me back home were true. That I was degenerate and fit only for hell. Because if this was hell, then fucking sign me up.
The only thing I didn't like was thinking that come Monday, no matter what else happened, Loving was going to know that stuff too.
His hotel turned out to be the same as mine, a modest one on the edge of town. Unlike me, though, he had a king-size bed.
We didn't use it right away. He turned on all the lights and cranked the AC because it was hot, and then he sat down in the chair by the table and told me to take off my clothes. He watched as I did it, impassive and almost disinterested, which really turned me on. When I was naked, he had me stand there for a minute in front of him, turn around, and bend over for an inspection. I opened my ass for him without being told.
“Very nice. Now come straddle my lap facing me and put your hands on top of your head.”
He was a lot kinkier than I would have guessed, and I realized he was trying to see how far he could go. So I worked really hard for him to get that he wasn't even close to the edge with me. I sat very still as he tugged on my nipples again, then played with my cock. But he was fixated on my nipples. He flicked them awhile, and then, looking up at me, he leaned forward and bit one lightly.
I swallowed a gasp and said, “Thank you, sir.”
My cock hummed at the way he grinned. He slid to the other nipple and bit down even harder. This time I did cry out, and I thanked him again. We played this game for several minutes, until he gripped my thighs, lifted me to my knees, and reached around to my ass. He slapped it sharply. “Open yourself.”
I did as I was told, and I gasped as he pushed his finger—dry again—back inside me. “Thank you very much, sir,” I said, when I was able.
“Thank you for what?” he prompted.
“For putting your finger in my ass.” I bore down on him to take him deeper.
“Tell me how my finger feels in your ass.”
I began to pump on him a little. “Rough, sir. Your finger in my ass feels rough. It makes my stomach feel tight.” Because it was true, and because I was feeling him out, I added, “It makes me feel a little ashamed.”
Bingo. His finger pushed deeper. “Why ashamed?”
“Because your finger is fucking me.” I fucked myself on it. “Because it's dry and rough, and you're fucking me, and I'm letting you. It's invading me, and I'm just moaning for you like a slut.”
His tongue stole out and wet a nipple. “You're polite enough on the ranch, but you're assertive too. Not here. You would do anything I told you right now, wouldn't you, Roe?”
“Yes, sir,” I told him. And it was true. I would.
“Even dirty things,” he suggested.
“Even dirty things, sir,” I agreed. “Probably especially those.”
He shut his eyes and suckled on my nipple for a moment as his finger fucked me. When he lifted his mouth again, for a moment he fell out of character and looked up at me, questioning. “Is this how you always are in bed? Because I never would have suspected.”
I fell out of role a little too, but I kept after his finger with my ass. “I'm really in a mood for it tonight. You seem like you are too.”
His smile made my stomach dance. “Just so long—” He stopped, but oh, yeah, I knew what he meant. So I helped him out.
“So long as I get that this isn't all you are?” I grinned, feeling easy for the first time. “Yeah. I get it. And same to you.”
I felt a new pressure at my crack, and lust colored his eyes again. “Can you take two? I don't want to hurt you, but this is very sexy.”
“Try it,” I suggested.
I felt his finger pushing, but he looked uncertain. “Do you have a...word?”
I gave him a crooked smile. “To be honest, I really like ‘no.'”
He laughed. But then his fingers started to move, and his face darkened again. He slapped my ass cheek. “Hold yourself open more.”
“Yes, sir.” I complied.
The second finger hurt a little, more like a burn than actual pain. I liked it, and I didn't. What I really liked was the way Loving's eyes smoldered as he watched me struggle. The way I would cry out, but he would push harder against me like my cries didn't matter. I don't know why that's so hot, and to be honest, usually
that
I don't care for. But that night, with him, it was mother's milk. He took his time, pushing against my huffs and my gasps and my cries, and then he was in to the hilt, two fingers raw and deep in me, wiggling, my hands holding my cheeks wide so he didn't have to work hard to get in there.
His free hand pinched my thigh. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
Another pinch. “What for?”
“Thank you, sir, for sticking two fingers raw up my ass.”
“That's a good boy.”
He leaned forward and took a nipple in his mouth, and his free hand came up to pinch the other one. He bit and pinched pretty hard, and I bucked against the pain, anchored from falling over only by his fingers buried inside my ass. His tongue circled around and around the nub, only to dart back as he took it in his teeth again. He suckled. He pulled. He nipped. And all the while he pushed into me, fucking me now with those two fingers. I felt him drawing back from me, not his body but his attention. He was just using me. He was sucking and fucking me, and he was lost in it. I moaned. I was so hard, so hot for him. Who cared that he was my boss. Who the fuck cared.
All at once he pulled out, slapped my ass again, then gripped my thighs. “On the bed. Face down, ass up, knees wide. Just sit there and wait and don't say anything.”
I went, and I waited. He took a long time, but I just held still. Except eventually I realized that was the wrong game, so I twitched my ass at him, flexing my hole.
Bingo again.
He slapped my ass sharply, like I was six and I'd gone into the cookie jar when I shouldn't. “I said wait. Hold still.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. Another slap.
“I said not to talk.”
“I'm sorry, sir,” I said and flexed my hole again.
I have been with some spankers, but Loving is kind of his own thing when it comes to spanking. He got in some good slaps, and some of them made me quiver, but mostly he used this as an excuse to play with my ass. He slapped it, then slapped it a different way. I could tell he liked the sound of his hand on my flesh. Me too. Eventually, though, he just started to knead, pulling me wide open, grinding my cheeks open and shut, shifting them this way and that. He pinched me again. God, the marks I was going to have.
At some point he grabbed lube, because all of a sudden I felt wet and slick at my ass. It was two fingers into me again, fast and deep, and my hungry ass took them in so fast he didn't hesitate about adding a third. I was still tight, but I knew how to open. I felt him flirting with a fourth, which I wasn't sure I could do, not yet, probably not tonight, not after such a long break. He figured that out thankfully, but I could tell I had him thinking even before he spoke.
“Have you let anybody fist you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I confessed.
His fingers buried deeper. “Did you like it?”
I squirmed for him, grinding against his hand. “Kind of.” The truth was, I'd been high, and I barely remembered except that I had hurt like fuck the next day.
“I haven't done it,” Loving said. “But I've read about how to do it. A lot.” He shifted his fingers inside me. “I would like to do it to you sometime.”
Sometime. Implying we would be doing this again. I still wasn't sure about that, but I didn't want to wreck the moment, so I just kept quiet and waited.