“One hundred five words.” The vibe inside me comes to life. I squirm in my chair.
He chuckles. “Not good enough, Pet. Cut some more.”
“Please, Sir – I can’t. Oh...!”
His hand on my shoulder. His warm breath in my ear. A new electric sunburst between my thighs. “Read it.”
Her mouth closes around his substantial cock, but her eyes never leave mine. Her panties stuff my mouth, choking my moans. Her nylons secure my wrists and ankles to the dining room chair. And my dick? Swollen beyond possibility of relief within the leather cage she bought for our anniversary.
She won’t let me come. I’ll watch the drool run down her chin as she deep throats this stranger. Later she’ll spread her slick, shaved cunt so that he can hammer her. She might even take that massive prick up her ass.
As I bask in her lovely cruelty, I’ll remember. I asked for this.
“You don’t need ‘lovely’.”
“But I do – to show he cares.”
He shrugs. “It’s your orgasm.”
“Flashers are two hundred words now. Aw...”
“I’m a traditionalist.”
“Help me! Please...”
“Discipline, slut! So important for a writer.”
Five words stand between me and ecstasy.