Page 63 of Nightmare

“What if I don’t want it anymore?” I go on.

“You tell me to stop, I stop.”

It’s that simple.

But is it?

I nod, a small, sharp jerk of my head.

“Strip,” he orders, his face expressionless.

Right now?

Here?

“R-r-r-right here?”

“Right here.”

Oh god.

What have I gotten myself into?

~*~*~*~

WITH SHAKING FINGERS, I gently reach for my pants, unbuttoning the top. I’m generally a confident person but stripping in front of a man that looks like Western, is unnerving to say the least. I’ve seen his wife, and I’m certain that if he wasn’t married, the kind of women he could have would be out of this world stunning. That isn’t me. I’m beautiful in my own way, sure, but I’m not a magnificent woman who knocks men off their feet.

“Shirt first,” Western orders and I pause, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t...”

“Now.”

He told me I can stop at any moment, but the truth of the matter is, I’m not going to. We both know that. I’m not going to stop because I want this encounter with him. Partially because I’m hoping it’ll open him up a bit more to talk about what happened that day, but also because I have a lusty crush on the man, and I want to know what it will feel like to be beneath him, his cock driving into my flesh, his big body hovering over mine. I need that.

I’m desperate for it.

Reaching for my shirt, I take the hem and slowly lift it over my head, tossing it on the floor. My hands automatically cover up my pudgy little stomach and his eyes flash with frustration. “Hands down.”

“I’m not skinny and lean like your...”

“Now.”

His voice is gruff, and he’s not taking any shit from me.

Swallowing, I move my hands. His eyes scan over my body and heat rises in my cheeks, but I don’t cover myself up again. Instead, I reach around my back and unclip my bra, letting it fall to the ground. My breasts jut forward, bouncing just a touch. My nipples harden almost immediately when Western’s eyes fall on them, and I can’t stop my hands from shaking and my skin from prickling. His face doesn’t change, which is incredibly frustrating because it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking. His eyes don’t flash with desire. He just stays impassive.

“Keep goin’,” he orders, his voice a tad huskier now.

The only sign that he’s enjoying this show.

I go back to my pants and slowly shimmy out of them before hooking my fingers in my panties and lowering them. Taking a quick glance, I’m thankful that I got a wax a few days ago. Generally, I let it grow because nobody is actually looking at it, but I wanted to tidy things up. I straighten, holding my breath as I present myself to him, fully naked, not a single thing covered.

His eyes drop to my pussy.

Blood runs directly to it, and the ache that was already forming, turns into a throb. I want him to touch me, to put his hands on me, to glide his tongue through my flesh. I want everything he can offer me, and the fact that he’s in control only makes it that much more arousing. Exhaling the breath I’m holding, little by little, I let my hands fall calmly to my sides and I wait.

Wait for his instruction.

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