Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
The barely audible grunt tells me he won’t tell me off for it. It shouldn’t be a turn-on, but I remember his lips on my fingers, and here we are.
“It’s… okay. Do what you have to.”
“Back at the house, I used a dildo too. It’s so awkward that you saw it fall to the floor,” I whisper, wanting to remind him of the pink Cyberskin, the flared base, and the veiny texture of my favorite toy. I want him to imagine it buried between my cheeks as he listens to me touching myself. I wish I could see his skin turning pink again.
He’s weird, no doubt about that. But maybe he’s also shy? People don’t end up doing crazy shit like sleeping under beds without it having some fucked-up origin earlier in life. And what’s a weird kink when he could be collecting people’s teeth for a new set of maracas? It’s harmless.
“F-fine,” he chokes out. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you. I was worried you might think badly of me. But I just really like how it feels,” I say innocently, even though I know what my words must be doing to him. Is it weird that I’m getting off on his desire for me? That I enjoy this teasing? If I asked him for help, would he crawl from under the bed and touch me?
But I don’t want to overdo it when I don’t know much about Creep, so I settle on stroking my body up and down while my cock hardens further. Now that I’m no longer terrified to the bone, imagining him here with me, smelling me while I sleep, is kind of hot. Is he actually a creep and goes further? Or is his satisfaction in the secrecy? I don’t even know if it was the first time he was under my bed or if I’ve had a secret guest in my house for months.
I don’t hold back when it comes to stroking my cock. I want him to hear it. I might pretend I’m stifling a moan, but in the dead silence of the cave, it’s pretty obvious. Is he touching himself too? I was frantic when he appeared in my room, but I swear his fly was unbuttoned.
My legs are spread wide, and I spit on my fingers before massaging myself with both hands. I imagine him crawling from under me in this darkness, face so close I could accidentally brush against it as I lift my hips, fucking my own hand. A part of me hopes that each time I’m lowering my ass to the mattress, it dips and brushes Creep’s erection.
Because he must be hard, right? I would be offended if he wasn’t.
I’m either hearing something shift in the darkness, or it’s my own horny imagination. For all I know, he could be peeking out, and I wouldn’t know. I have to bite back a stupid smile when I imagine him in night vision goggles, snooping on me, maybe even jerking off to what he sees.
“Oh yes… like that…” I whisper into the dark. He can imagine it’s absentminded mumbling for all I care, but I want him to hear my stifled moans. I want him to imagine himself on top of me as his obsession grows. “Inside me…”
I’m not sure anymore if my eyes are shut or not, but as I give in to pleasure, ghosts of fingers slide my thighs open, as he’s watching me, listening—
I’m not even trying to pretend I want to be quiet at this point, and when the haze of desire takes over, I stretch out limply and catch my breath. My first instinct is to reach for the box of tissues, but I’m not at home. I’m in Creep’s cave, and he’s under the bed.
Is he waiting to lick me again?
My skull echoes with my own heartbeat as I let my cum-stained hand hang off the mattress. Like an angler who’s just thrown in some bait, I need to wait.
Will he be able to see it? And if not, will the smell be enough to lure—
The tip of his tongue meets my middle finger. I’m shocked how intimate that feels. He takes a little lick, then kisses two fingers, and then the wet heat of his mouth engulfs my sticky digits. I don’t do anything, letting him indulge while I rest, my body relaxing as he shamelessly laps at my palm. It’s so ticklish I have to bite my cheek not to giggle. I don’t want him to think I’m laughing at him.
I whimper when he finishes by sucking on my little finger.
It’s strange. But so unexpectedly erotic, I’m flushed as if he’s given me head.
I don’t ask about it. The tension between us is too fragile, and I’d hate to shatter it.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, but here I am, dozing off with a smile on my face.