Page 33 of Overachiever
“Is that any way to talk to someone you want something from?”
The desperation in his face does something to me on a primal level I can’t comprehend, but I know I’m going to shatter him all over this bed.
When I slip the toy over him again, he looks me in the eye. “Please.”
“I’m going to make you come this time. Slowly. Are you ready?”
His head falls back on a groan. True to my word, I build him up with leisurely strokes and his babbling when he gets close is something I’d like to have on my phone to listen to every day. It’s glorious.
“Oh yes, oh please. Remee, it’s so good, please let me come this time, I can’t take anymore…”
I’ve never been a multitasker. My brain struggles to focus on too many things at a time, but it catches every horrifying memory of the next few chaotic moments.
Owen shouts, and his entire body stiffens. The expression on his face is pure devastated bliss, and I watch it the entire time, even as sunlight falls across it. Didn’t we close the curtains? Where’s that coming fr—oh no I forgot to lock the door when the maid left!
Serena, Marty, Graham, and Zara stand in the doorway, mouths agape at the scene before them. It’s like someone dipped the room in liquid nitrogen. We’re all frozen in place for what seems like forever but probably isn’t more than a few seconds.
Marty’s the first to speak up. “What a horrible day to have eyes.”
It sinks in that I’m sitting on Owen in nothing but panties and nipple clamps, my hand still wrapped around a fleshlight that’s covering his wilting dick. He can only stare in disbelief, lost for words for the first time ever, while our friends take in the scene. Owen tied and cuffed to the bed, sex toys scattered across the sheet.
Serena’s the first to move, and her voice is nonchalant. “Sorry, we’ll wait outside.”
The door closes, and Owen stares up at me. “I don’t think we have to tell them now.”
Embarrassment isn’t a strong enough word for what I’m feeling right now, but I can’t help it. My body starts to shake, and I laugh until tears form in my eyes. “They—they saw you come,” I point out, trying to catch my breath.
Owen smirks as I release his hands and reaches up to tweak my nipple. “And they saw your hardware.”
“We’re never going to hear the end of this.” He sits up after I’ve freed his ankles and covers his face.
“Just tell me they didn’t notice the HIS and HERS butt plugs.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out.” My fingers hesitate over a nipple clamp, and Owen grins at me.
“I’ll do it.” He pinches one end of the clamp, releasing it, and an overwhelming, sharp, stinging pain shoots through my nipple.
Clamping my hand over it, I yelp, and leap to my feet. “Ow! Fuck! They hurt way more coming off! Owww!” I can hear him chuckling as I bounce from foot to foot like a cartoon character with a match between their toes, my hand massaging my breast.
“Let me get the other one, Rem.”
One step in my direction has me retreating. “No!”
“Are you going to do it?”
“No.”
“So, you’re just going to wear one nipple clamp for the rest of your life?”
“Looks like it.”
He lunges toward me, and I leap back. “Be reasonable. It’s got to come off. I’ll do it quick, like a band-aid.”
There’s no reason left in me right now. Owen sprints around the bed, and I scramble across it, but I’m not fast enough. How did this become my life? Being chased around a motel room trying not to lose a nipple while our friends probably listen and laugh from outside.
Owen drags me back by my feet and straddles my waist. “Sorry, babe, has to be done.” Leaning over, he kisses the top of my breast as his fingers release the second clamp.
“Ow!” My feet kick against the bed, and he soothes my poor assaulted nipple with his warm tongue.
