The Object

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He snapped open his zippo and lit his cigarette, took a long drag. “You know she hates it when you smoke in here,” I reminded him.

“She’s not here, is she?” and then took another long drag. “Want some?”

“I always do,” I said. He didn’t pass it to me, though. He held it just out of reach of my mouth, and waited. I wrapped my lips around it and inhaled the smoke. They were a little sore from the pounding they’d just taken from his dick. “Another guilty pleasure,” I said as I blew out the smoke.

“Why should you stop there?”

“She’s going to catch us one of these days. She’s not stupid. Don’t you feel bad about it at all?” We’d been carrying on for months right under my roommate’s nose. Something about it was so exciting, but the guilt was a bit more than I wanted to deal with. Well, maybe it wasn’t guilt. Maybe it was more of a disappointment in myself for breaking the unwritten code, becoming one of the women I’d always looked down on before. I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who would betray a friendship for some cock.

“Not one damn bit. Why, do you?”

I smoked some more of Chris’s cigarette while he held it out for me. He was always so thoughtful after a good blowjob. ” How can you not feel bad?”

“It’s not like we’re married. She sees other guys, too. Besides, you fucked me already while she was watching. What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know. I just feel bad sneaking around.”

“I like Bayındır Escort it, myself,” he grinned. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. He put out his smoke and sat up and reached for his t-shirt.

“Are you leaving already? I thought we were just taking a break.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of ya,” he grinned,tossing the shirt. It landed right over my face.

“Hey!” I started to move it, but he stopped me. It was soft and dark, and smelled like Chris—a mixture of dial soap, smoke, and coffee.

“Don’t look, or I’ll stop.”

Then I felt his mouth on my throat, his teeth and his tongue biting and tasting me. He worked down to my tits, sucking one nipple, then the other, then squeezing them together and sucking and biting both at once. He traced a finger over my stomach, down my thigh…started stroking up again. He was teasing the hell out of me…and I really wanted to watch. Finally his fingers slid over my clit, and I felt my whole body try to grind against him, get just a little more pressure there. He pulled away, stroking my thighs again…and then there was nothing but the sound of footsteps walking away.

For what seemed like forever, there was silence. Every inch of my flesh was alive and aware, waiting. I realized I’d been biting the shirt a little, unclenched my teeth and let it go. The curiosity was killing me…. Where had he gone? What was Bayraklı Escort he going to do to me next? What was taking so long? I wanted to uncover my eyes, but knew he meant it when he said not to look or he’d stop. Whatever he had planned, the last thing I wanted was for him to stop now.

More footsteps. The springs of the bed under his weight. He pushed my knees up and apart. “Oh, thank God you’re back and you’re going to do something about my pussy,” I thought. Out loud there was only a slight gasp and a slow moan.

I felt something tracing the same route Chris’s mouth had before…over my throat…across my nipples…circling my tits…down my belly…along my thighs. “What is that?” I asked. It was cool and thick and heavy, with some kind of…ridges? notches? Was it metal? Glass? Some kind of plastic?

“Just a little something I found. I don’t think I’m gonna tell you what it is,” he said. “You just rest assured that it’s nothing that belongs there.” He moved the cloth and kissed me long and deep on the mouth, taking care that my eyes stayed covered, teasing me with the object the whole time. I felt it trace a path over my cunt lips, then felt his fingers spread me open. “Do you want it inside you?”

I did want it inside me, whatever it was. The thought of him fucking me with some random thing had me so wet and hot and worked up that all I could do was mutter an “Mmmhhhmmm.”

“Gotta do better than that,” he kept teasing me with it, rubbing my clit with it as he spoke, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me with it…. Please put it inside me…. You’ve got me so fucking horny—Just put it in me!” I was lifting my hips, grinding against it, getting so frustrated…I’ve never been good at waiting.

Then I felt it penetrate me–it was so thick and hard, the ridges so familiar, and it was so cold as it sunk into me. All I could hear was the rhythm of my own breathing and moaning, and the slick, almost splashing sound of it sliding back and forth, in and out of my pussy…slow at first, then faster…. I knew whatever it was, he was just watching it glide in and out of me, watching me fuck it, meet it with my hips. “What is it? What are you fucking me with?”

“I’m not gonna tell you, but it sure looks pretty going into your pussy. You’re gonna have to wonder what it was from now on. You’re gonna see all kinds of things around the house and wonder, ‘Was that it? Is that what he fucked me with? Is that what I came all over?’.”

Every stroke brought me closer to the edge, and thinking about what he said put me right there, right where I wanted to be. I felt his fingers circle my clit while he fucked me with it faster and faster. My pussy wrapped it tight, clenching and unclenching, my thighs unconsciously squeezing together as I came in hot, wet waves of pleasure.

I don’t know how much time passed before Chris asked for his arm back, and I let my legs fall open again. He eased out…whatever it was…and was off. I heard some water running, and then he was back again, his zippo snapping open and striking. He uncovered my face then and asked, “Want some?”

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