Page 37 of Toy Shop

The faster I answer, the faster I’ll have what I’m after.

“Yes.” My voice croaks.

“Dirty little girl. You’ve made me proud.” A drop of precum slides to my tongue, a pang of heat to my center. “We’ll end today’s class with your juices spilling to the floor, baby. Turn up the speed on the remote, squeeze your cunt around the vibrations and rub yourself while sucking my balls in your mouth.”

I moan at the imagery and his low, demanding baritone.

“And when I’m done, my cum will mark that innocent face. You’ll be mine, you hear?”

Tears roll unbidden down my face, the urgency to have him in my mouth overriding my speech.

His grip fastens, fingers digging to my neck, his voice clipped. “Don’t force me to leave.”

That gets me talking so fast that I stumble over the words. “Yes, Daddy, I heard you.”

“Good girl.” He holds his cock up, shoving his balls into my mouth. “Come here.”

I part my lips, looking up at Alistair. He repositions my head to lick and take all of his sack in my mouth at intervals. The furious grunts are the praise I’m searching for, the approval. They teach me he likes the flat of my tongue pressing to his flesh, to have my lips round and close in to suck one, then the other.

“That’s it, baby. Fill your fucking pouty mouth with my balls,” he groans, eyes piercing mine as he pleasures himself vigorously. The room smells of sex and lust and in the back of my mind, I’m eternally grateful no one’s had the urge to do sexy shopping early this morning.

“I don’t see you rubbing your clit, Nola. You’re so close to being my good little girl.” A hint of compassion appears one second, gone the next. “Don’t fail me.”

Inwardly, I repeat the Yes, Daddy I know he seeks, hoping it’ll show through my eyes and actions. I find my hardened clit, starting to rub myself. The pulses coming off the Ben-Wa balls reverberate against my fingers, racing up my body to my nipples.

My body is an electric field, wired and brimming with sexual energy.

Alistair’s ball sack elevates, tightening. His climax is imminent, and I brought him there. I’ve been able to absorb his harshness, his instructions, his affection. It’s a high like no other, the realization thrusting me over the edge. I come, yelling, hyperventilating, almost levitating off the floor.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.” He yanks me back, coming over my face. Hot rivulets of cum stain my cheeks, my eyelids, my lips, everywhere.

And even though I came, I’m still greedy for him. I dip my tongue out, tasting him. He chuckles, then I sense a shift in the air. The sound of his zipper tells me Alistair tucked himself in. His hot breath on my face means he’s kneeled beside me.

“Jesus.” He’s unmoving, and my sole regret is that I can’t see how he’s looking at me. “Aren’t you beautiful wearing my cum, baby?”

I can’t help myself. I smile.

A sound of a wrapper being torn follows his filthy, caressing words. “Too bad I have to clean you up.” The cool, damp wipe brushes my skin. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

He brushes a kiss on the tip of my nose. Clear of his marking of me, I flutter my eyes open. My breath nearly knocks out of me the second I do, the view greeting me too much in my fragile state.

Alistair has this look about him, something more profound than anything orgasm-induced. I’m trapped in the chocolatey color of his eyes, mesmerized by the tiniest twitches of his lip.

“Hold onto me.” Below me, he laces his fingers with mine, guiding my hand to his shoulder where he wants me to grip.

Contrasting his demeanor in our classes, Alistair treats me gently, both in touch and in speech. “Relax your body and, on the count of three, I’ll pull the balls out of you. Okay?”

I nod, placing my trust in him for the millionth time this week.

“One…” He grins a coy, sweet smile. “Two…” I nod again, affirming that I heard him. “And three.”

The balls are out. Alistair polishes them too before slipping them into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. My hand travels from his there to his sturdy neck where his pulse rushes.

I want to kiss him. I want to ask him to stay, to preserve this magical moment for as long as we can. To confess that being his student just isn’t enough.

Then the fucking phone rings.

His eyes sober fast, his face grimaces. He rises to his full height, offering me his hand, which I take. “We…”

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