Page 70 of Yours Truly

I take a picture of our feet, and show her. The dusty tops of black boots, the melting sky and dim porch light making the scene look like a watercolor come to life. “Our feet look good together,” I tell her, realizing after I say it that it’s kind of weird.

But Ivy taps the screen and a moment later says, “I sent that to myself. I love it.”

Our eyes idle as a bug flits between us, reminding us we need to get inside. I need to get inside her, but for now, inside the house will do.

A jiggle and turn and we’re inside. Twisting the deadbolt, I flick on the lights and face her. But she’s not even there anymore. She’s already headed down the hall, to the bedroom in the back.

Stopping in the doorway, ten feet from me, Ivy’s long dark hair cascades down her back, making my poor balls ache. “You’re beautiful, Ivy. All the fucking time. You know that?”

Her smile spins me out, as the cage seemingly shrinks in size. “Of course I know.” Her wink has me running down the hall, and she dips into my room with a playful giggle as I chase her.

Standing shirtless and breathless in the doorway, she holds my eyes, unlacing her boots one by one, sifting a long finger through the laces.

“Did you take off the cage or leave it on?”

I dig the key from my pocket and let the chain dangle from my middle finger. “It’s on.”

“I told you to take it off,” she says, kicking off her first boot, moving to the second.

“I’m not a good listener,” I reply, “and I was hoping you could take it off.”

With one boot off and one on, she makes her way toward me, pressing her fingertip between my pecs. “If I wanted to touch your cock, I would have touched it. If I tell you to take it off, it’s because I want you to take it off.”

She steps back, kicks off her other boot and shucks off her leggings, standing before me in a skimpy little bodysuit. Her nipples pierce the fabric, one arm and one leg inked, her long hair curtaining her face. She’s a knockout. It’s criminal how hot she is.

I’d do anything for this woman.

It takes the same time as a sneeze for me to undress. Grabbing my swollen, sticky package, I fumble until the key slips into the tiny lock, and I give it a twist. The device splits open and falls into my palm.

I let it all drop to the floor with a thunk and begin massaging myself, kneading out the grooves in my cock left by the metal, but Ivy says, “Don’t touch.”

My hands drop to my sides like I’m at gunpoint.

Or in Ivy’s case, knife point.

Her hand comes to her shoulder, pushing the strap off the soft slope of her body. She repeats on the other side, and I watch with rapt focus and a dry mouth as she removes her bodysuit.

I’ve seen her naked. I’ve watched her come.

But knowing that she’s in my house and I’m about to put my mouth on her sweet pussy, seeing her naked now is almost fucking painful.

“Fuck me, Ivy, you’re so perfect.” My eyes roam her curves, her pinkened and plucky nipples, the pieces of art she’s chosen for her body in a variety of styles, and the white of her painted toenails. Need sears my chest from the inside out.

She’s watching my cock, so I look down at him too, my fingers drumming my thighs at my sides. I’m so goddamn hard. I haven’t been hard like this in years. Booze, drugs, lack of sleep, age—all reasons I told myself why I never got rock hard anymore.

But in the moonlight, the most beautiful perfect woman in front of me, a smirk curling her lips and my sheetless bed behind her, my cock stands hard and thick, a pearly bead of precum waiting at the slit. Against my belly, the heat of my erection makes me feral, and I move toward her.

She backs up, making me groan. “Stay there,” she breathes, “stay there until I’m ready for you.”

I nod, my mouth open and my chin coated in drool.

After dragging a random quilt from a moving box and fanning it over my newly delivered bed, she crawls in the center, her back against the wall. Slowly, her legs part, and I can’t look away from the way the mattress dips as she digs her heels in, preparing for me.

My gaze travels from her leg to her pussy, glistening even in the ill-lit room. “You’re wet,” I croak, my cock now painfully hard, aching and throbbing. I think if I even touch it right now I’d rocket off.

“You in your cage was hot,” she says, reaching down, her fingers spreading apart her cunt. “And now you’re going to lick up the mess I made because of you, then you’re going to wash my panties because you made me get those wet, too.”

“Okay,” I reply, faster than a speeding fucking bullet. Seriously, I think the new order is: speed of light, South Korean internet, S4714 star in the galaxy and horny, teased man in love with a woman who is bringing him back to life.

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