Date: 2011-11-07 12:59 am (UTC)
I smile at him.

"No," I say. And that might be frustrating enough, but I think this might be worse. And so keeping a firm grip on his wrists - they will have bruised after this, I think - I pull down my own fly and get my hand inside my trousers. I do not even pull out my cock; I just work it tightly. I look at him as I do it, listening to his breathing. I feel my nostrils flare, my own breathing quicken, and I touch my tongue to my lip, taste him on my mouth, and I push myself into orgasm with a sharp cry.

I let go of his wrists then and fasten my trousers, sit down on a chair and stretch out my legs. My cheeks are very flushed, but I keep my expression calm.
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