Page 46 of Watch Me

I smile, not wanting to speak and risk him recognizing my voice, and quickly down the rest of my drink for courage.

“Want another?” He takes the cup from my hand.

I shake my head.

Already, things are too hazy and loose, and I don’t want to slip from relaxation into oblivion. I’m buzzing with anticipation, with nerves, with excitement, and I want to be clearheaded so that I don’t miss a thing.

When David puts my cup down on the counter and turns towards me, it’s like a shark weaving through the water towards its prey—smooth, confident, and lethal. I twist around to look at the bull sitting behind me, wondering what role he will play, but of course, his mask hides any expression. He’s unreadable.

David was the number one person I was supposed to avoid tonight, but now the idea that Daddy David might touch me is an appealing taboo twist. Yet I’m hyper-aware of the man in the bull mask. Even with my back to him, his presence is so heavy it’s like he has his own gravity. I know I’ve been delivered to David as his plaything, but I hope the bull will also be some kind of participant.

There’s a nagging worry in the back of my mind that what I’m doing is deceptive and maybe wrong. I don’t want to trick David into doing something he doesn’t want to do. But the way he looks at me tells me that when he doesn’t know who I am, he wants to do very dirty things to me. And that, I decide, is his choice.

He runs a finger down my arm, leaving a trail of warmth, and then leans forward and brushes my ear with his lips.

“You’re beautiful, honey,” he whispers. “If you want to use a safe word or anything, just let me know, otherwise I’ll just stop doing anything you don’t like if you say stop, okay?”

I nod, and swallow, feeling his fingers sweep up my back and unclip my bikini top. I let him slip off the top and untie the sides of my bikini bottoms, pulling them out from under me.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his eyes searching for mine through the mesh of my mask so closely that my heart beats faster. I nod again, partially to move away from his penetrating glance, and thankfully, he averts his gaze—unfazed and without a hint of hesitation.

“She’s gorgeous,” he says over my shoulder to the bull. “What do you think I should do with her?”

“Hmm.”

A scrape of the chair behind me, and then the sound of footsteps on concrete as the bull walks around the examination bed. When he’s in front of me, he tilts his head and lifts his hand to his chin thoughtfully, as if he’s giving it serious consideration. “She told me that she’s an exhibitionist and that she loves the idea of strangers watching her come.”

“Did she now?” says David. “Well, that can certainly be arranged.”

The bull steps out of my field of vision and continues to walk around the bed, leisurely, like he’s looking me over. Like he’s examining something he’s considering buying. When he leans over my shoulder, his voice is low and quiet.

“I want to watch my friend lick your pussy and make you come. Would that be okay?”

“Yes,” I say, forgetting my resolution not to speak. My sex swells and desire claws at my throat, strangling my voice.

Yes, I want your friend to do the most intimate thing possible to me, in front of you and an audience of strangers.

It’s filthy and it’s the stuff of my fantasies.

One hundred percent yes.

“Good,” the bull intones, the heavy mask making his voice resonate with a faint, hollow echo.

“Excellent,” David agrees, placing his hands on my knees.

He parts them gently, steps into my space, and traces a finger down my body from my throat to my belly button, drawing a shiver down through me. When his hand drifts between my legs, his finger slipping into my moistened depths, he groans with pleasure.

My breath hitches as his finger moves across my clit, and I lean back on my hands and let my knees fall open—everything in my center unfolding and blooming. I feel unguarded and cradled, safe to let go, cocooned between the two men and held by dozens of eyes.

David gives a low chuckle and bends down, his breath warm between my legs as he speaks.

“Oh my God,” he murmurs. “You have a beautiful pussy.”

His warm tongue slides up between my folds, and with a gasp, I let myself fall backwards onto the bed until I’m looking up at the bull above me.

I’ve been on the knife’s edge of pleasure all night, and this sudden, soft, perfect stimulation is exactly what I’ve been aching for. I lift my hips, all the heat and need and longing inside of me coiling up in my center as David—my roommate, my friend, my mentor—draws his tongue up tantalizingly over my slit.

“Oh God,” I moan, a raw cry loosened from somewhere within. “Oh God, that feels good.”

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