"Eager, my little dirty girl?"
I glance up at him in the mirror, enjoying the view—him behind me, his shirt off, bare chest glistening with sweat, and his eyes hot as ever as they focus in on me. From this angle, it looks even hotter that I'm in this tight little dress, now bunched up around my waist, with my bare ass sticking straight up in the air behind me, and my carefully positioned wig askew.
He seems to notice the latter at the same time as I do, and gently disentangles it from my hair, bending down across me to bite my shoulder lightly as he does. "Sorry," he whispers against my skin. "But I need to see the real you." Then he runs his hands through my hair—which is a mess from being bunched up under the wig all night, but he doesn't seem to care. He grips a handful and pulls just hard enough to make me arch my neck, watch him in the mirror as his fingers slide forward and start to circle across my clit, increasing the pressure with every rotation.
Before long I'm gasping, finding it hard to keep my breath steady. My chest heaves, and in the mirror, I watch him grin down at me, enjoying the view. "I love when you come for me, Rina," he murmurs.
"I... I'm going to... soon," I manage to gasp, as he increases the pressure, his fingers circling, harder, faster... Then, without warning, he plunges one hand into my pussy, all the way to the knuckle. I cry out faintly, and he steps closer. I thrust my hips back against him, drive his finger deeper, and I don't stop moving until I feel his hips collide with mine, feel the shape of his hard cock through the fabric of his pants.
"Cannon." I meet his gaze in the mirror. "I want... you..."
"Not yet," he replies, his gaze steady as ever, damn him. How is it that he always knows just where to touch, just how to drive me wild, without letting me make him this crazy in return?
I'd say it isn't fair, but right about now, as he adds another finger to my pussy and begins to stroke back and forth, building up speed, I can't really complain. I'm enjoying this way too fucking much.
"Tell me, dirty girl." His voice brings me back into myself, distracts me for a moment from the orgasm building in the pit of my belly. I glance up at him in the mirror. "Do you want to try something new?'
"Try what?" I ask, my voice soft.
He raises a single eyebrow. And then he withdraws his fingers from me, making me groan faintly in frustration.
Then, he places one of those fingers, still slick and wet with my juices, between my cheeks, pointed straight at the tight little nub of my ass. "Do you want me to fill you even more fully this time?"
I swallow hard. Keep my gaze on his. I've never tried this before. Never let anyone take my ass, in any way, because to be honest, while I was always curious about it, it made me too nervous to try with someone I didn't know. I never let any of my casual hookups go anywhere near my ass.
But with Cannon... Things are different. We've tried so many new things. And I trust him. Hell, I wouldn't allow anyone else to lock me into a restaurant bathroom with them.
So I nod, just once, my gaze steady.
Without waiting for any more reply than that, Cannon begins to press his finger forward, gently. Another wordless cry escapes my lips as the very tip of his finger glides past the tight pucker of my ass, inching inside me. At first, it does sting a bit, but it's the same kind of hurt I experience when he bites my chest or when we fuck so hard that it's difficult to walk the next day. It's a good ache, bone-deep. The kind of hurt that borders on pleasure.
And it doesn't last long, either. As he continues to press forward, a centimeter at a time, I can feel my body relaxing, feel myself letting go of control.
"That's it," he murmurs, approving. "Relax. I'm in control now, Rina. As long as you remember that, this will feel amazing."
So I do just that. I let him take over, completely. Surrender myself to his touch, for him to use as he wants. The thought alone makes me wetter, because I love the idea of him taking his pleasure from me, using me however he wants. There's something so hot about the surrender of control there.
He finishes pressing his finger inside me, and for a moment he just holds it there. I breathe in, out, adjusting, getting used to the sensation of having a finger inside my ass.
I'm still adjusting to that when I feel the tip of his cock press against the entrance to my pussy, and now, my eyes widen in the mirror, going wide with surprise.
"You can take this, Rina," he murmurs. "You're a fucking size queen, remember?" His eyes flash where they meet mine, and just hearing him say that, knowing that he knows what he's doing, relaxes me again.
He pushes inside me, and I can't help it. I gasp, loud, in pleasure.
I've never felt this full.
He goes slow, entering me almost as slowly as he slid his finger into my ass. When he finally reaches the end, his cock fully inside my pussy, his balls resting against my lips, he draws back, pulling both his finger and his cock out of me at once. I groan at the sensation of loss, already desperate to feel him filling me again.
I don't have to wait long. He thrusts forward into me once more, and I thrust back at the same time, crying out, forgetting where we are, forgetting everything else around us.
He starts to pick up the pace, fucking me harder, his finger moving in and out of my ass in time with his thrusts. I rock with him, bracing myself on the sink, glancing back and forth between the mirror and over my shoulder, to savor the view of him thrusting into me like this, bent in half in front of him.
That's when a loud knock sounds at the door. "Hello? Miss?"
We both freeze, our chests heaving with breath, hearts racing. I clamp my lips shut to try to stifle the sound of my breathing.
"Are you all right?" someone calls through the door, probably our waiter. "I heard a cry."
"I'm fine," I call back, wincing. "Um... I'll just be a minute."
"Let us know if you need anything," the man calls again. We wait until we hear receding footsteps before Cannon leans down and chuckles softly, pulling my hair back from my forehead to catch my eye.
"I guess we'll have to be faster," he says, already pulling back to thrust into me again. I whimper faintly, and he shakes his head, clicking his tongue. "Faster and quieter, Rina."
I bite my lip and nod, resolving to be quieter as we keep going.
But I don't know how hard that's going to be. Especially with Cannon abusing both my holes at once, fucking my pussy hard, and keeping his finger gliding in and out of my ass. Before long, I'm squirming against the sink, still pinned between him and it, trying my best to keep my hips moving in time with his, thrusting back against him to grant him as much access as I can, to drive him as deep as I can.
Before long, I can feel the orgasm building inside me. I grit my teeth, strain to keep silent, but in the end, Cannon drops his grip on my hair and claps his other hand over my mouth as I groan, unable to stop myself.
Footsteps sound outside again, but I arch my back, urge Cannon with one long desperate look to keep going. So he does. He continues pounding into me, and this time, when the manager calls out again to ask if everything is all right, I'm the only one with it enough to turn and call back to him.
"Just... fine... I'll be there in a moment!" I manage to shout. That seems to buy us time, at least for now.
Thank God, because less than a minute later, Cannon thrusts into me once, twice, a third time, and comes with a guttural growl, deep in the back of his throat. He keeps his hands wrapped around both my hips, so tightly that I know it'll leave a mark tomorrow. I love that. I love knowing he's marked me as his, if only for now.
I love, too, the feeling of his hot cum shooting deep into my belly. Filling me. I love the little popping sound that happens when he draws his finger out of my ass, and I love the hot rush that spills down my thigh as he draws his cock out of my pussy, and our combined juices rush out in a flood of heat.
We both take another minute to clean up, trying our best in the cramped space. Then I reach for the knob, but before I can turn it, Cannon grabs my chin and draws m
y face up toward his, kissing me, deep and slow, our tongues tangling for one desperate moment.
Then we break apart, and I grin at him, eyes alight with mischief. "I'll go out first," I whisper. "You come in a minute."
"I think I'll need longer than that," he whispers back with a laugh, and I roll my eyes and elbow him.
"You know what I meant, Mr. Stamina," I murmur. Then, without another word, I slip past him back into the restaurant, my dress as smoothed as I can make it, my wig crumpled under one arm.
The whole place stares as I return to my seat on trembling, shaky legs. After that fucking, it's harder than ever to walk in these heels. I retake my seat, trying for a casual smile, hoping that nobody else in here can tell that I've just been fucked in the bathroom stall. But to judge by the stares, and the faint snickers and whispers among the staff, it's pretty obvious what was going on.
When Cannon emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, hair a wild mess and his shirt crumpled in places where he's tucked it back in, the whispers and soft laughs hidden behind palms redouble throughout the staff members.
We play it cool for the rest of dinner, finishing eating with hardly a word, because every time we make eye contact long enough to try to strike up a conversation, one or the other of us dissolve into muffled laughter again. Finally, we get the check and pay, and on our way out, the waiter claps Cannon on the back and winks at him, then shoots me a grin.
"Enjoy the rest of your night," he advises us as we pass him by, and that does it. We can't hold it together any longer. We burst into peels of laughter, and grab hands as we hurry across the parking lot toward Cannon's distant car, breathless with amusement, embarrassment, and, under it all, the desire to go home and do all of that right over again.