“I’m glad to be able help you. I’d do anything for you. Always. All you have to do is ask.”
Colin arches an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
A grin unleashes across my face at his sexual tone. “Absolutely.”
“Well, in that case . . .” Colin smiles lasciviously, confirming what I sensed a moment ago: he’s suddenly feeling hella horny. His dark eyes blazing, Colin motions to my empty plate. “You want more?”
I shake my head. “It was delicious.”
“And so is your pussy.” With that, he rises from the kitchen table and grabs our two plates, revealing the unmistakable outline of an erection bulging behind his sweatpants.
“Well, hello, sir,” I say playfully, my eyes trained on Colin’s hard-on, and he chuckles in reply. Wordlessly, he rinses our dishes in the sink and places them into his gleaming dishwasher. But finally, he turns to face me, and says, “It’s time, Amy O’Brien—time for you to experience The Sure Thing.”
Twenty
Colin
After carrying Amy over my shoulder from my kitchen, I hurl her down onto my bed like a hunter tossing down his haul and she squeals excitedly. Man, she’s easy to please. So fucking fun.
“A few ground rules,” I say, sliding my fingertip underneath her chin while trying to keep my face stern and commanding. “As I’ve said before, your job is to do nothing except react, honestly. No faking. No performing. Understand?”
Amy nods enthusiastically, looking like she’s gripping an electric fence, and it takes all my restraint not to burst into laughter at her adorable facial expression.
“Good girl,” I manage to say calmly, even though this girl is making my spirit soar and my dick pulse. “I don’t want to hear a single sound from you that isn’t one hundred percent authentic. I need to be able to read your body and cues. That’s how I’ll know when it’s time to do the next thing. You’ll mess me up if you’re putting on a show for me. Do you understand?”
She nods like a bobblehead and breathes out, “Yes.”
My heart is palpitating. As excited as I am to get going, I’m feeling a bit nervous here. How else to explain this first-time-ever speech I’ve given? Normally, I jump right in, no instructions given. But this is a unique situation. The first time I’ll be doing this technique on a woman who not only knows about its existence, in advance, but has also watched Keane’s motherfucking video providing step-by-step instructions. That’s a huge disadvantage for me, since the element of surprise is a critical ingredient to making the technique work like gangbusters. The Sure Thing works best when the woman your fingering is wondering, “What the fuck is he doing to me?” Not, “Oh, I thought it’d feel better than that.”
Plus, the dirty-talk component of the technique is all fucked up for me now. Besides being hot and always a good idea, a constant flow of whispered words is supposed to keep a woman from thinking too much. It gets her out of her head. Which, in turn, helps her relax enough for my fingers to work their magic on her.
But now, thanks to me drunkenly babbling to Amy about The Sure Thing like an idiot, she not only knows to expect dirty talk during this technique, but she’s also most likely going to grade me on my performance the whole time. Maybe she’ll think, “Huh. I expected the dirty-talk to be so much hotter than that!” And that right there would be enough of a distraction to keep her from getting into the necessary mindset for the magic to work.
“I’ll do everything you say,” Amy says, staring up at me from the bed. And she’s so damned hot in this moment, so eager, I forget my predicament and lean down to kiss her.
When our tongues meet and begin dancing, Amy’s body jolts and jerks like I’m licking her clit. I suddenly realize my worries aren’t rational. I can make this work for her, whether she’s seen that video or not, as long as I switch things up from the video enough to keep her guessing.
My confidence rebooted, I grip Amy’s neck gently and stare into her green eyes. “Go into my bathroom and take a long, hot shower. Use the handheld spout on the massage setting, directly on your clit.” Her lips part in surprise. “Pull it off before you come. If you reach orgasm on your own, we’ll need to do this another time. Don’t worry, if that happens, I’ll still eat you and fuck you. But we won’t do The Sure Thing today, if you come in the shower. Do you understand?”
Amy bites her lip and nods.
“When you’re feeling relaxed and turned on in the shower, get out and dry off, and make sure to pee. Even if you think you don’t need to go, try. It’s important you know for a fact you have an empty bladder when you leave that bathroom. Do you understand?”
She nods.
“Good girl. Go. Take your shower—and take your time. We’re not in any rush here.”
Amy salutes me, turns, and practically gallops into my bathroom . . . which thankfully gives me time to gather supplies and perfect my game plan.
I grab a couple things from my kitchen. And then a few items from a toy box in my walk-in closet. I grab some white, fluffy towels from a hallway closet and lay them down over my sheets. I close the shades on my bedroom windows and turn on some sensual music to low. And, finally, I strip off my clothes and sit on the edge of my bed, waiting for Amy like a big cat with a hard-on, awaiting his prey.
“Hi,” Amy says shyly. And I swear to God, when I look at her, I physically swoon a little bit. She’s gorgeous. Her wet hair is combed back, drawing focus to every curve and line of her blushing face. Her nipples are hard and her tits mouthwatering. But the best part? That little smile of anticipation. This girl is ready. Already on the brink of her first orgasm.
“Why the towels?” Amy asks, motioning to bed, but she’s no sooner asked the question than she notices the bottle of chocolate sauce on the nightstand. “Oooooh, fun. I don’t remember that being talked about in Ball Peen Hammer’s video!” She squeals. “I’m game, though.” She squeals again.
I chuckle softly at her exuberance. Not to mention, at how fucking amazing I am. I didn’t lay those towels down to protect my sheets from a little smear of chocolate sauce. I’m not going to douse the girl in the stuff, for fuck’s sake, only tease her with it enough to throw her a curve ball and make her feel a bit naughty.
No, I laid those towels over my sheets because, God willing, my little newbie puppet is about to experience her first squirting orgasm before I’m done pulling her strings. Of course, there’s nothing to gain by explaining that to her, however, since Keane didn’t talk about squirting in that particular video. So, why raise her expectations about what’s going to happen to her, even further? No, the best approach is to keep Amy soundly in the dark about that, and let it shock the hell out of her when it happens.
Breathing hard, though I’m trying not to, I grab a bottle of edible massage oil off my nightstand—spiced vanilla scent—and lead Amy to sit on the edge of my bed. When she’s seated, I douse my palms with oil and begin massaging her shoulders. “Clear your mind,” I whisper, before brushing my lips against her neck. “Think about nothing but my touch, baby. The fact that your clit is pulsing. Think about how wet you are for me.”