Page 117 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“The Matrix,” he responds, his eyes drifting down to my wet tank top before he speaks again. “Firstly,The Matrixis an entirely different world where you find out you’ve been living in a simulated reality.The Truman Showis just normal life on Earth.” He stops talking when I lightly kick my feet in the water again. “Your skirt is...really short.”

“It’s not something you’ve complained about before.”

“I’m not complaining about it now. It’s just an observation.” He spreads his arms out along the edge, his eyes never leaving me. “The second reason would be that inThe Matrix, the whole world is being lied to. InThe Truman Show, it’d just be me they were keeping in the dark.” He’s speaking to me, but his focus is nowhere near my face. “It’s one thing to find out your whole life is a lie. It’s another thing entirely to know that the people you trusted intentionally lied to you to keep up the fallacy.”

I’m trying to maintain this conversation, but I’m a little distracted because he’s still tracking my every movement. “Dirty thoughts of me running through your mind, De Lorenzo?”

“Very dirty.” He’s pensive as a smile slowly curves on those cherry-red lips. “Can you take off your panties?”

Over the last six months, I’ve discovered that Dylan has some voyeuristic tendencies. He likes to watch. He was so nervous at first, and I think he was more comfortable taking a step back and just watching while he tried to build enough confidence to actually do the deed. I enabled this behavior by putting on a show for him, doing all sorts of things to myself while he looked on, and I’m not sure if I should have done that because this somehow became a habit, almost a fetish, as time progressed. Yet still, I indulge him every time because nothing turns me on more than watching him watch me.

Sometimes he acts on it, sometimes he doesn’t, so half the excitement comes from not knowing whether he’s going to just keep leering at me or pounce on me and fuck my brains out. I enabled this behavior as well by going on the pill. There were a few occasions when his big body came over me hot and fast, and reaching for a condom was an afterthought. That was a big problem because both of us have some trouble with impulse control, so we had to correct that quickly. Six months later, and this is what our sex life has become.

Without a word of protest, I keep my eyes locked on his as my hands creep under my skirt and I shift one leg at a time to drag my underwear down. I toss it to him, and it lands in the water right in front of his chest, lightly brushing the scar across his left ribs.

“Thank you.” He glances at the pink lace floating on the surface before those molten brown eyes return to me. “Spread your legs for me.” The command is thick and gruff, and I make him wait a moment before I comply. He groans, tilting his head a little to the side so he can get a better look under my skirt. “Fuck, your pussy’s just glistening...like it’s silently begging for me. Is it?”

I catch my lower lip between my teeth. Aroused and electrified, I can only nod.

A naughty smile quirks his lips up, a smile that shows both the hesitant shyness of a boy as well as the ravenous intent of a man. He still doesn’t act on whatever it is he’s thinking. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he bites on his thumb as he watches me. It’s only after a minute or two that he realizes we were in the middle of a conversation. “Oh, yeah,The Truman Show. I can’t think of anything worse than living a lie.”

His lascivious gaze becomes a living thing because I can feel it travel over my body. It’s hot as it moves over my breasts, causing my nipples to harden in anticipation. My wet top is clinging to me and does nothing to hide this.

“Remember when we were talking about Schrodinger’s cat?” I ask, my voice sounding huskier than normal. “You said that until the box is opened, the possibility that the cat is dead and alive exists at the same time. The same applies here.” When his eyes settle between my legs, it might as well be his hand because my clit swells. I’m getting wetter, my body already preparing itself for the penetration of his fingers. I try to breathe out the expectant energy building inside me and force myself to continue talking. “You’d be quite happy to live a lie as long as the alternative remains a mere possibility. It only hurts once the truth is revealed and that possibility becomes your new reality, so maybe the key to eternal bliss is to...notopen the box.”

“Hmm...What if your new reality ends up being better than your old one?” He finally lifts his eyes to meet mine and the raw lust I encounter makes my breath catch in my throat. “You’ll never know unless you open the box.”

“Can we stop pretending that either of us cares about the cat or the box...orThe Truman Show?”

“Who’s pretending? I’m genuinely enjoying this conversation.”

“Sure, you are. I’m going to quote Mark Twain here...”

“Don’t.”

“...as I believe it was he who said: Why feed the cat when you can eat the pussy?”

He splashes me with water to show how distasteful he found that but still plays along. “Twain had such a way with words.”

“Indeed.”

He smirks because he knows that I know every dirty thought running through his head. He’s trying to keep his voice steady and his face neutral, but he’s dying to fuck me. I can hear it in his uneven exhales. I can see it in the way he keeps biting his thumb, as if he’s using that as a mechanism to restrain himself.

I don’t have that kind of control, though. At this point, I am so turned on and desperate to be touched that my hand slides up my thigh, and he sucks in a breath as I drag my skirt up an inch higher. I massage my aching clit to relieve the pressure mounting inside me before dipping two fingers into my slick folds. He lets me do it. He watches me do it as desire and tension between us rapidly escalates.

It’s the small murmur of his name that sets him off. He crosses the pool in a few quick strokes, grabs my waist, and drags me into the pool with him. I gasp, the cool water causing a prickle over my highly flushed skin.

Pinning me against the wall, he lifts my legs up, shoves his swimming trunks down, and then the thick head of his cock is pushing inside me. The water offers some resistance, and it takes a few forceful thrusts to get himself all the way in. I find that he’s always a step ahead of me in this game of lust. I’m still whimpering, trying to adjust to the heat and the cold and the thickness I’m straining to accommodate while he’s already ripping the tank top off my shoulder, his hard nails grazing my breast as he frees it. A rapturous moan bursts from my lips when he takes my nipple into his mouth. Rolling his tongue over the swollen peak, I again have to contend with the varying temperatures on my skin. I’m overwhelmed with need and pleasure and just...the feel of him. My head drops back, and he kisses his way up my chest to my collarbone.

“There’s nothing better than being inside you,” he whispers, licking droplets off my earlobe.

The second I feel his teeth scrape along my neck, I coil my legs around him and brace myself for the impact. It’s that raspy groan against my ear that lets me know he’s about to lose control. I have that effect on him because he simply can’t get enough of me. He wraps my hair around his fist, yanking my head back so that my lips are there, waiting for him...and he can take all of me at once.

His thumb runs over my mouth, moistening it for the impending assault. The tip of my tongue swirls around it and his cock twitches inside me when I pull it into my mouth. His lips take possession of mine at the same time his hips begin to rock, claiming me with fervent hunger. Water laps between our bodies, surging up with every thrust. My back bears the brunt of his urgency, the coarse texture of the wall grating my skin.

I’m not sure if he notices, but he turns. He’s against the wall, but that does not mean he’s given me control. Gripping my hips, he yanks me onto him, moving me up and down his length like I’m just some pleasure toy for his dick. One time...onetime I told him that he could do whatever he wants to me, and he took it as a blanket rule.

In the grander scheme of things. I can’t complain. I’m quite useless at this moment, just a pile of quivering limbs, moaning in ecstasy as he plunges harder and deeper. All I can do is hold onto his shoulders, his muscles hard and rigid beneath my palms. My moans get louder, and I burst.

---