Page 51 of Temptation at Randy's

I squirmed. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

Claude leaned back before they spoke. They were playing with me, I knew, but I’d never been good at squashing my reactions.

“I saw a few pairs in the drawers, and it just came to mind because I was face to face with your tits,” they said easily.

I blinked. Sure, that was the most natural thing to tell someone.

“I could try, I guess.” I imagined there was pain involved, which made me shrink back, but I did like some roughness when I played with my nipples. “It’s a maybe.”

“I can work with that.”

Silence settled between us after that, only the sound of my hands against my skin and our breaths filling the room. There was eroticism in the talking, but there was another kind of erotic charge in the air when there were no words.

There were no distractions. Just skin, and sweat, and the musky scent of sex.

My finger trailed down easily to find the spot my skin opened up after tucking. It wasn’t visible, mostly a feeling. I remembered the first time I’d tried it after reading a fanzine about it. I’d never felt clumsier in my life. Now, fucking myself this way came as natural as breathing.

My body stiffened for a second when the tip of my finger breached in. I paused, rejoicing in it, before I let out a deep breath. My eyelids partly shut, I felt as my body sank into the sheets before I kept going. I liked it more when I was slow, when I could savor every nerve sensationas I rubbed the inner walls gently.

“Fuck.” Claude broke the silence. It didn’t matter. “You’re getting so wet.”

Igrunted. I liked that they adapted to my language so easily, without the need for big discussions about it.

“Yeah.” I bit on my lip until the pressure helped me think clearer. “Feels so good.”

It felt better when Claude was there, too, their fingers teasing my nipples. I stiffened, only for a second.

“Need more,” I breathed.

I tried to make eye contact, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded. Sometimes, fucking myself provided comfort, and warmth. Other times, it amped up everything and made me ten times needier for everything.

“What do you need?”

When they asked like that, it wasn’t just a question. It was a command. I knew it, deep in my gut. My toes curled.

“I don’t care, just… something. Nipple clamps, your mouth, a dildo, whatever. I’ll take it.”

I’d be so good at taking it, too—anything they needed or wanted from me.

I got thatdesperate. It wouldn’t be long until I was blubbering all of that out loud, either. For now, though, I was too focused on the way the mattress dipped with their weight. “Hang on a second,” they said.

The irrational part of me wanted to complain. The most rational part of me knew it made sense that they needed to move to grab at least one—or two, I wouldn’t complain—of the two toys I’d mentioned.

“The dildos here are all larger than I like,” they admitted, “but there’s a smaller set of clamps I’d like you to try.”

“Okay.”

I’d just been thinking about how intimidating those sounded. Not anymore. I trusted Claude, as wild and irrational as it could be. Besides, they’d just said it was a smaller set, and they knew I had no experience with it.

“I actually enjoy nipple clamps,” they spoke as they rummaged through another drawer. What they were doing only clicked when I spotted them covering the silicone clamps with smaller, finger-sized condoms. “They make me burn all over in the best way.”

I’d remember that for another time.

Probably.

The bed dipped again under Claude’s weight. They settled next to me, close but not as close as I shamefully wanted them.

“Just let me know if you want them gone, no safe word needed.”

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