Library
Home / Her / Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Feenix Blaylock

F or a split second, we lock eyes. I see all the innocence in hers. It swims in the depths as she makes one… last… choice. I practically dare her with my stare, and like the good girl she is, she inclines her head as she makes a decision. With a glance at the camera, she breathes through her mouth on such a slow exhale that I’m positive her pure soul went with it.

“Ready?” I murmur, my gaze raking over her body. Is that a slight tremor I’m detecting? Adrenaline or fear? Both? The idea of both makes goosebumps rise over my skin because, not only will the camera love it, but it turns me the fuck on.

She hums her answer, and it goes straight to my balls.

I’m going to take absolute pleasure in this, and in anticipation, my lips slightly part. This – her, this woman – is going to be the death of my peace of mind, I already know it .

“Run your hand over your body.”

With trembling fingers, she raises her free hand and skims her collarbone. The flesh on her breasts pebbles at the featherlight touch, and they move as her breaths become slightly heavier because of what she’s about to do.

I watch, bewitched, as those fingers move down and dip between the valley of her tits. Together, she and I watch as she makes a trail down her stomach and then back up again. Everywhere she touches leaves a trail of small bumps. Fuck, I think some part of her is getting turned on by this, and that does nothing to help me stay rooted to my spot.

Her hand moves back up and circles the mound of her left breast. With a quick look at me, she drops the vibrator and places that hand on her other breast. She swirls around her tits, creating little indents from the light pressure in their wake that quickly fill with the plump flesh of her cleavage.

“Squeeze,” I order huskily.

She lifts her gaze to mine, and fuck… there’s so much heat in them. Without further comment, she palms her tits, or what little she can fit into her small hands, and squeezes them.

Ever so slightly, her head tips back, and a tiny whimper escapes her. The sound goes straight to the damn thing between my legs. It strains against my zipper at this point, the only reminder that I can only watch and not touch.

Without being told, perhaps lost in the moment and the amping pleasure, she squeezes one more time before moving to her nipples. She lifts her head to watch this time, her jaw relaxed and her eyes glistening with her arousal.

I’m in an absolute trance as she circles the tight buds with two fingers each in slow, agonizing motions, round and round, and I can tell that just the simple touch is turning her on with anticipation of what she’s about to do to herself. I flex my jaw when she decides to flick them because the moan that follows makes my blood heat and a sweat gather along the back of my neck. That goddamn sound . . . It’s husky and raw and one-hundred-percent not faked.

I like to watch; I’ve been a watcher for years, but never once have I wanted to cross the room and see what sounds I could pull out of them myself.

“Mama,” I murmur to her, and she slowly raises that lust-glazed gaze to mine. “Lower.”

Obeying me, her hands move lower and lower, past the thick valley of her stomach, and when they reach the mound of her pussy, God help me, she touches herself. She sucks in a sharp breath at the first contact because, even from here, I can see how swollen her clit is, how much it begs for attention, and how sensitive it has to be because of it.

I almost tell her what to do next, but she comes up with it on her own. I swallow thickly as she dips two fingers inside, brings them out soaked, and starts to slowly circle her clit. “Oh my god,” she breathes.

Either she doesn’t pleasure herself often by how responsive she is to herself, or she’s thoroughly enjoying that she has an audience. Either way, I work like hell not to grab my cock. Instead, I clench my fingers into fists and let the nails bite into my palms. The pain is a stern reminder that I have a job to do, so I rotate to the camera and take it off the pod. I take absolute delight that I get to get closer to her, but as soon as I make it to the end of the bed and angle the camera so it takes in what she’s doing to herself and the attention she’s giving to her clit, I immediately regret it. I can smell her arousal. It’s fucking sweet as hell.

I gather myself to my knees and wet my bottom lip as she circles and circles. The breathy whimpers are a chorus to my ears, and I cannot take my eyes off of those damn glistening folds. I want to lick. I want to taste. I want to do all the things I shouldn’t.

Her thighs begin to quiver, and fuck, she’s sexy as hell right now.

I move the camera up her body and to her face to find it tense with an oncoming release. The only thing not tense is her parted lips. Even her breathing is tense.

Balancing herself on her elbow, she starts to play with her tit with her free hand, plucking and tweaking the nipple to add to her pleasure.

I fist my cock through my jeans and give it a squeeze just to relieve some of the pressure. I bite back a moan of my own. What I’d give to have those lips parted and ready to take my cock. What I’d give to have her gag on my length, to watch her cheeks hollow as she swallows it whole.

I’m so lost in the fantasy of fucking the shit out of that pretty little mouth that I almost missed her picking up the vibrator. The sound of it being switched on draws my attention, and my body temperature spikes once more as she brings it to her breasts and circles each one in a figure-eight style, teasing her flesh, playing with her heightened sensations.

“Mmm,” she moans out, watching as the toy jiggles her tits. She touches the tip of it to a nipple, and her head falls to the side, hair cascading over one shoulder like ribbons. She doesn’t last long, and thank fuck because I want to see what happens when she touches it to her clit.

The vibrator trails down her flesh like her fingers once had until it reaches her mound. She skates it around her pussy, testing herself for what’s about to come, and then she dips the tip inside. It comes out soaked as hell .

I bring my bottom lip in between my teeth as she touches it to her clit. She bucks and hisses, backing off for just a second to get over the shocking sensation of the vibrator.

And fuck me, she touches it again, and her entire body quivers. Her next moan comes out shaky, and I curl my toes in my shoes to keep from moaning myself as a little of her arousal drips out of her pussy. The urge to lean forward a few feet and lap it up makes every muscle in my back tense.

Her head falls back when she begins to circle, and I order, “Eyes on me.”

She rolls her head around until she latches her gaze on mine. Her eyelids are drooped and hooded, her breaths heave through loose lips, and her eyebrows are pinched. The look is fucking beautiful, but I don’t capture it on the camera. That look is only going to be for me.

Before I’m ready, she drops her gaze to her pussy and watches as she pleasures herself. Her thighs shake violently, and if it were me pleasuring her, I’d open them wide and hold them down, forcing her to take it.

“Oh my god,” she whimpers on her next exhale.

“Does it feel good, mama?”

“Yes,” she groans out, her brows pinching further. She bites into her bottom lip, and the deepest moan rattles in her chest, and it’s then that I know she’s close.

Gripping my cock with my free hand because the pressure is almost too much to bear, I move the camera to her pussy with her face in sight in the background. She’s making small little circles with the vibrator, and the pace begins to increase as she chases an orgasm.

One second, she’s trembling, and the next she throws her head back, screams, and stiffens. Her orgasm takes hold, and her body breaks out in a fine sheet of sweat. I capture the whole damn thing on camera, and it burns into my goddamn brain.

I’ll never forget this moment. The rigidness. The sounds. The smells. The damn view is hot as hell. And all too soon, she finishes and slumps against the bed.

I switch off the camera, knowing what I just recorded was gold. The room falls silent except for breathing, and I didn’t realize it until now, but her breaths are not the only ones in the room that are labored. Because I’m so damn turned on, mine are just as ragged.

Standing back to my feet, I know I’m going to fuck the shit out of my hand when I get home, rewatching this and making the edits myself. I turn and roll my neck to relieve the tension and then set the camera back onto the tripod.

With my back still to her, she asks, “Was that good enough?”

I swallow thickly – because literally all I can smell is her orgasm – before I turn around and meet her gaze. Truthfully, I answer, “I’ll let you know.”

I can’t tell her here and now that she has the job. I know what I recorded will be popular, but I can’t bank on it. It has to be uploaded to our website and rated by viewers, and if she gets enough interest, I’ll bring her on.

And if it doesn’t . . . well, I don’t want to think about what would happen if I don’t get to see that again.

“Okay,” she whispers, gathering herself up into a seated position.

I tip my head to the clothes on the floor. “Get dressed.”

She scowls at me. “That’s it?”

I raise my eyebrows and try like hell not to look at her body. “The interview is over.” Even though I don’t want it to be. “There’s nothing left to discuss.”

“Okay,” she whispers again. She slides across the bed and puts her feet on the floor to stand. The shyness is gone from her, but curiosity is set in the way she peeks at me over her shoulder. I try not to visibly show my thoughts, but I can’t help but wonder if she can see my erection or if she’s choosing to ignore it and what it means: that I fucking want her.

“I don’t have a phone to call someone to pick me up,” she murmurs as she slides on her underwear.

I nod a little. “I’ll be giving you a ride.”

She flicks her eyes to me, and for a split second, I see a sliver of fear before she masks it and nods indifferently.

That one look, that little show of emotion, is enough to remind me that she isn’t who she said she is. I know most girls are that way when they come here, but there’s something about her . . . something that tickles a memory, and it leaves me a little uneasy.

I don’t like the feeling.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.