Page 50 of Tips and Trysts

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But here’s the thing: Telling the truth has never felt good to me.

When I was twelve, I told my father about a birdwatching event at the local library. Clutching this flyer I got at school, I mentioned the nature walk and the professional birder they’d booked. His expression had been stoic. Unimpressed. I figured it was a dead issue, but a few days later, he told me to put on my hiking boots and get in the car.

I was so excited, staring out the window at the passing scenery and holding my backpack filled with binoculars, granola bars, and extra sunscreen. But he drove me to Mason Neck State Park, not the library. There, one of his donors was waiting. He handed me a gun to hunt waterfowl.

I bawled until I passed out from dehydration.

Later, when I came to in the passenger seat on the drive back to McLean, my father said, “I told Mr. Richardson how sorry youwere for ruining the afternoon.” He reached over and pushed my hair off my forehead. “I assured him you’re not always such apussy, Everett. It was the heat.”

I thanked him for it.

Later, lying in my bed, I wished I’d never mentioned the damn birds in the first place.

Four days. The debate is in four days.

I’ll tell her then. I will.

That night, when I log on to Cora’s Sunday stream, seeing her for the first time since Friday awakens every part of me.

She’s on her bed wearing a see-through bra and panties, looking entirely fuckable as usual. Black straps with gold buckles extend from the bra and cross over her body, indenting her skin. Her nipple piercings glint through the thin, transparent fabric, and they’re gold tonight to match all those buckles and…

…well, we’re in sync.

There’s my princess, I type into the public chat. A smirk rises on Cora’s crimson lips, and she runs her hand through her long hair, sweeping it in front of her shoulder and covering one of her breasts.

She picks up the vibrator next to her. The toy comes to life, buzzing quietly below the music playing in the background. Motions fluid and deliberate, Cora slides a strap over her shoulder, and the chat explodes as usual. That’s my cue.

FuckingMyOwnFace:Show them your gorgeous body. The body I pay for. Show them what they don’t get to touch.

Cora’s face blooms with a smile, and outright satisfaction strikes me.I did that shit. I made her happy. I’m the one who gives her what she needs.

Like a good girl, she flicks the other strap off her shoulder, and now the only things keeping her bra up are a clasp and divine intervention. Then she slides her thumb underneath the thinband of her thong and tugs it halfway down her hip. “You’re not going to say anything else?”

I freeze.

Cora taps her fingertip on a spot by her hipbone, and the connection is immediate: It’s the exact spot where she put my three-hundred-dollar tip. It’s the spot I kissed after I finger-fucked her pussy.

There are hundreds of people watching, and she’s performing for me alone.

Her pussy is puffy and wet, visibly so, even through the fabric of her panties. It’s the pussy I filled with my fingers two days ago. It’s the pussy that milked my hand like it couldn’t get enough. I’ve longed for this pussy. Yearned for it. Done unspeakable things to get it.

I’m desperate to reassure this sweet pussy that I’ll be taking care of it soon enough.

Before I have a chance to type, Cora drags the vibrator over her clit and moans faintly. “You spent all that time working me up and you don’t even know what to do with me.” Another moan. A whisper of a scoff. “That’s pathetic.”

FuckingMyOwnFace:I don’t have to say anything. We both know you’ll let me right into every tight hole on you.

“Have you earned it yet?” She’s circling her clit with the tip of the toy. “Guess I have to take care of myself.”

Cora spreads her legs before she turns up the vibrator. Her motions are lackadaisical at first—graceful but deliberate. Groaning, she separates her lips and touches the tip of her pierced tongue to the back of her top teeth.

It isungodlyhow hot she is.

She angles the vibrator to rest sideways against her clit, letting it span the length of her pussy. When her back arches and she picks up her familiar hip roll, I realize she’s actually going for it.

Fuck that. I want her orgasm tonight. I don’t know how—don’t care. I need it. I absolutely fucking need it, and I’m so done waiting.

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