A source of unending fascination

‘Take off your skirt,’ he says.

She’s not prepared for this, having come over expecting to be taken out to dinner. But she does it anyway.

‘Now your knickers.’

She lets them fall to the floor.

‘Come and sit opposite me on the sofa,’ he says, patting a place. ‘Turn towards me, knees bent, legs open.’

She does it, not without shyness. He stares at her exposed crotch.

‘You feel uncomfortable, don’t you?’ he says.

She nods.

‘Why is that, I wonder,’ he muses. ‘I’ve seen it all before.’

Somehow it doesn’t seem to get easier.

‘It’s because you aren’t sure about your cunt, are you? You aren’t sure if you like it. You aren’t sure if I like it.’

She can’t look at him. She can feel herself blushing.

‘But I do like it, very much,’ he says.

‘You don’t think,’ she says, finding her voice at last, ‘it could be a little less….’

‘No,’ he says. ‘It’s perfect.’

She absorbs this, trying, not for the first time, to believe him.

‘It’s a source of unending fascination to me,’ he says. ‘And a thing of beauty.’ He reaches out and strokes it for a moment.

‘It feels good,’ he says. ‘Touch it.’

She puts her hand there, feels herself gently.

‘When did you last masturbate?’ he asks.

She starts to blush again. She knows he will wait till she answers.

‘This morning,’ she says.

‘While you were still in bed?’

She nods.

‘With your hand?’

She nods again.

‘Show me,’ he says. ‘Show me how you did it.’

I don’t know if I can do this, she thinks.

‘I want to see it,’ he says.

She knows she can’t win. She starts to touch herself with more purpose, her fingers sliding over her lips, prying, exploring, one slipping inside. She closes her eyes, to concentrate, but also so that she doesn’t have to see him watching.

‘Show me your clit,’ he says. ‘Pull back the lips and show it to me.’

She does this. She can feel his eyes on her.

‘It looks a little swollen,’ he says. ‘Coax it.’

She rubs her finger up against her clit, the way she likes.

‘Keep touching, and tell me what you thought about,’ he says. ‘While you were doing it.’

It’s hard to speak. She has to force the words out. ‘There were men. Lots of men.’

‘Fucking you?’

‘Everything. All over me. Abusing me.’

‘Were they rough?’

‘A little. Quite a bit.’

‘Did they take your ass?’

‘Yes.’

‘And your mouth?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did they come on you?’

‘Yes, lots of them.’

‘They soiled you with their semen?’

‘Yes,’ she says in a whisper.

‘Come now,’ he says, ‘as soon as you can.’

When it’s over he tells her to get dressed. She feels bolder now. ‘Aren’t you going to fuck me?’ she asks.

‘After dinner.’

‘Promise?’

He kisses her. ‘You can count on it.’