The first tingles between my thighs sparked. I focused on those delicious little electric zaps and pumped my pelvis to get the blood flow rushing to my pussy.
My customer hadn’t announced their arrival yet. The green light next to the one-way glass window was still off. I didn’t mind as I loosened up.
I hummed along and glided my hands against my thighs, working myself up quite nicely. I touched my breasts through the T-shirt, pinching my nipples to get them erect. I danced in front of the mirror just as I used to when I was a teenager.
This was what freedom felt like. I could be unapologetically me. Free to express and pleasure myself. I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, especially my dad.
The green light turned on.
A breath hung in my lungs, my cheeks warmed, and I bit my bottom lip teasingly. All part of my performance because I wasn’t the least bit nervous.
I did my routine in front of the mirror as I had done dozens of times. I lifted the shirt above my booty to twerk a little. The motion made my engine purr to life. Foreplay was what I called the first minutes following the arrival of my customer, where I did lots of fondling and pinching of my nipples. It was as much for me as for them.
But whoever was behind the glass window wanted me in the bed. They wanted me to masturbate using my fingers and a dildo.
I’d get there when I was ready.
Right now, I needed to dance some more. When my hands moved under the shirt, my breathing deepened. I dragged my nails across my stomach and dipped them under the waistband of my panties.
I’d gone from zero to sixty in five seconds. Proof of how long it’d been since I got off and desperately needed a release.
I backed away from the dresser, whipping my hips from side to side until I bumped into the bed. I ran my fingers through my hair, exhaling dramatically to show how turned-on I’d become.
I tucked my thumbs into the sides of my underwear and slowly shimmied them down my legs. They bunched at my ankles, and I moved them to the side with my toes.
My customer had requested I keep the shirt on. Fine by me. If all he wanted to see was my hands between my thighs, maybe a glimpse of my pussy, I would give him what he wanted. I liked it when they enjoyed some teasing and mystery. I personally found it erotic as hell.
I scooted back and laid my head on the pillow. I kept one leg bent as I caressed my inner thighs. Soft moans and sighs eddied out of my mouth. I lightly touched my wet center, inching in deeper. I retracted my finger, dragged it to my clit, and rubbed soft circles over the pulsing bud.
A whimper formed in my throat. I fisted the blanket with my other hand and arched my back. I felt my customer’s desire and approval through the glass. Thinking of them made my heart race, my breathing more labored.
I hadn’t been at it long, and my orgasm was building.
Joseph’s face flashed behind my eyes out of nowhere. I didn’t want to think of him. Not when performing for someone else. Disapproval and anger would probably be in his fucking intense dark depths.
Rather than him killing my buzz, I clenched down low.
I slipped two fingers in and out as I imagined him getting angrier and angrier. My cream coated my digits the farther I went in. I bucked my hips in time and reached my hand under my shirt to fondle my nipples.
Take that, Joseph. I do as I please, when and where I want.
The idea of him watching and going out of his mind took me to a level of euphoria I hadn’t encountered when performing.
The thought of him being furious with me made my skin sizzle. I’d like to make him crazy. I’d love to smell envy and jealousy gushing out of his pores because I was doing this for someone else. It’d be gratifying and satisfying and oh-so validating.
I rolled onto my stomach with my hand between my thighs. I inserted a third finger and humped like I was on top of Joseph, fucking his cock. Thrust after thrust pulled a groan out of me that ricocheted off the pink walls and shook the canopy.
“Ooh. Yesss,” I cried breathlessly. Perspiration beaded on my forehead from all the energy I poured into my hand. Each time my clit bumped into my palm took me higher and higher. “Fuck. Ooh, fuck.”
I heard Joseph growl and hiss, but I didn’t understand the Spanish he muttered. Was he encouraging me to keep going or demanding I stop? Did I actually care what he had to say? No.
But if I was truthful, I wanted him to force me to stop so he could ravage my body. Own every part of me. Ruin me for anyone else.
I wanted that sexy Latino to handcuff my wrists to the headboard so I couldn’t touch myself. I’d welcome anything he wanted to give me.
Longed for him to suck on my inner thigh.
Imagined the pain of him biting my clit.