Page 7 of For the Boys

My fingers fight with the clasp for a second, unhooking two of the three small silver buckles, before Vincent speaks again. “Did I ask you to take it off?”

I flash him a smile, then flick the last clasp. It pops open and hangs loosely over my boobs. I let it sink down my arms until I’m completely exposed, then stare past the camera at him. “I wouldn’t be a good slut if I didn’t show you what you wanted, would I?”

He smirks with that same sinister beam. “What else are you going to show me then?” He lets one hand fall from the camcorder so he can grip the front of his pants.

My eyes stay glued to the motion as he stroked himself lightly over the denim. “Whatever you want.”

“Show me what’s between your legs then, baby. Show me how wet that pussy is already.”

I push my skirt up even more, letting it bunch up around my belly button, then slide my hand behind my panties. My fingers graze the smooth skin of my mound until they dip even lower. Immediately, they’re coated in wetness as I let my index finger swipe my slit.

Removing my hand, I hold it up and let the hue of the purple neon flash against them. “Like this?”

He growls and steps forward, then stretches across the bed to grab my wrist. He holds it right in front of his face and inhales. “Smells so good.” He inserts my fingers in his mouth and sucks, twirling his tongue around each digit for a moment before letting them fall.

“Fuck. Come do that to my dick,” Isaac laughs.

Vincent flashes him a playful glare. “Your time is coming. For now, it’s about her.” He moves his eyes back to me. “Now let us see that pussy. Show us how you touch yourself when no one is around.” He advances backward until he’s standing behind the camera again.

I shiver and lean back as Vincent lowers the zipper to his jeans. I don’t want to miss anything he’s going to do. I want to watch him touch himself as I touch myself. I want to soak in every last drop of his want through my pores.

Cocking my head to the side, I bend one knee and lower it to the side, then keep the other up so I can watch him but still give him what he’s asking for. Slowly, he pulls himself out and grips his cock at the base. As he begins to stroke, I let my hand track down my body until it’s positioned between my legs again.

I move under my panties and start touching myself. I run my fingers up and down, coating them in my arousal. I can feel my lips pulsing with want. I need to touch myself more, stroke that bud of nerves, and plunge my fingers deep inside me. It’s almost too much. I close my eyes for a split second trying to control my breathing and the thump of my heart against my chest, but I snap open again to make sure I don’t miss anything Vincent is doing.

Moving my panties to the side, I show him exactly what he asked for. I cup myself hard, letting my fingertips toy with my sex and flick them up and down, over my hole, before moving them higher and rubbing my clit.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going,” he praises.

He squeezes his cock and tips it upward while keeping his eyes on me, then opens his mouth and lets a line of spit fall directly on the head. He massages the wetness with the palm of his hand and then moves it up and down his shaft.

The motion is so fucking erotic and makes my skin tingle with the feel of pinpricks. “Do it again,” I moan, rubbing the tips of my fingers into my clit harder.

He tips his head and shows me all his teeth. “Is that how this is going to work? You’re going to tell me what to do now?”

I let my eyes lull closed again. “Would you listen?”

“Probably not.” His voice is closer now.

Opening my eyes again, I see him standing to the side of the bed, still stroking himself. “I want to taste you,” I admit.

“Then open your mouth.”

I comply and open wide, then scoot closer to the edge of the bed. Instead of giving me what I want, he reaches down and grips my throat in his big hand, keeping his other locked around his dick. “Sliding my cock down your throat would be too easy, baby.”

He maneuvers again, getting closer, then rubs the tip of himself over my bottom lip, coating it with beads of pre-cum. I jut my tongue out and graze my lips and the smallest piece of him before he pulls away. I close my mouth as he pulls away and let the saltiness of him coat the back of my throat as I swallow.

“Open it again,” he commands, tightening his grip on my neck.

I obey and part my lips one more time.

He spits again, but this time it falls into my mouth instead of over his length.

“Fuck, that’s weird,” Drew mumbles from the couch.

I turn in Vincent’s hold and look at him. “Is it? I think you’re just upset you haven’t gotten another taste of him.”

His grin widens. “Maybe you’re right.”

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