A few guys put in tips, begging Oliver to do this or that, or to show them my pussy again. He obliges those wordlessly, spreading me open once more and keeping me there for them to see. It’s just as embarrassing as it was the first time, so I bite my lip and try not to bury my face in his throat.
Unfortunately, with my eyes mostly closed, all I hear is his laugh to know that someone has probably put in a large tip for a suggestion on how he should fuck me. “Why thank you,Framed_Failures.It’s great to see you made it over here, by the way. And since he’s the highest tipper by a mile, thanks to that three hundred dollars—”
What? Threehundred?
“It looks like we have a winner.” I had expected him to tell me what it was. I thought he’d warn me, or tell me how to move. But instead, Oliver all but picks me up, just to shove me forward until my face is shoved against the mattress, just below my laptop. It’s a wonder I hadn’t knocked into the keyboard, but Oliver is better than that.
“Look at your viewers, sweet Envy,” Oliver growls as he drags my hips up off the bed. I feel a yank, then the tearing sound of my lacy underwear that makes me want to hiss at him in irritation.
“Let them see all the pretty faces you make behind that mask while I fuck this pretty cunt.” I hear him unzipping his jeans, and reach up to maneuver the laptop enough that not only can they see part of my face, but now Oliver is perfectly in frame, as well. It requires the shoving of some of my pillows, but the result is… shocking.
I get to watch as Oliver grips my hips and drags them up to him. I shudder as he runs his nails down my curved spine as he nearly vibrates with excitement.
“Happy Halloween, everyone,” he says, and rearranges his grip on my thighs.
I don’t know what I’m expecting. For him to be gentle, maybe? But he’s not. Maybe it’s because of my goading, or maybe it’s what Rook requested. Either way, Oliver slams into me until his hips are against my ass, and I cry out at the feel of him stretching my body.
“Fuck,” I gasp, closing my eyes and burying my face against the pillows. He doesn’t let me rest for long, though.
Oliver reaches out to thread his fingers in my hair, yanking my face up for my viewers to see. “Tell them how I feel,” he orders, and when I only whimper, he lightly slaps my thigh. “Don’t tease them, Envy, baby. That’s not very nice.”
Neither is he, and I worry that I’ve gotten in over my head this time. His grip on my hair causes my scalp to prickle and burn, but it’s definitely not the worst feeling I’ve ever had.
“He’s so big,” I tell my viewers, my voice soft and trembling. “He’s so fucking big and—” I trail off with a grasp as he pulls out just to thrust back in. I close my eyes and arch into him, letting out another breath as he sets a rhythm for my viewers.
While I’m having problems getting more than one word out, Oliver certainly isn’t. He tells my viewers how hot I am, how tight I feel around him, and lets them know every fucking time my muscles clench around his cock. He basks in their attention and their questions, and indulges every fantasy about all the things I probably like.
Meanwhile, I can barely answer the most basic of questions for them. They don’t seem to care, just like Oliver predicted. They care more about him telling them everything about me, and my uncontrolled reactions to his movements, than anything I might have to say.
“You really don’t think I can feel how close she is?” The words drag me out of my haze, and it hits me that he’s right. I want to come so badly, and not just because of how thoroughly he’s fucking me.
It’s the humiliation, too. The way he talks about me like I’m barely here for more than for him to fuck.
“I can feel it,” Oliver assures them. “You don’t know how well I can feel it. She’s so expressive with her body. All right. One last question, and whichever answer gets the most tips, wins. Should I come all over her, or should I fill up her sweet cunt before I leave so she has to lie here and remember how good I felt while it drips out of her pussy?”
I know what I’d vote for, but I’m not exactly someone who has a vote.
“Hurry up now,” Oliver urges. “Once she comes, I’m not going to last long. And she’s so close, chat. She’s begging me to make her come.” He leans over me and watches the screen, setting his mask against my shoulder as he does.
“Better look up, Envy,” he growls, close enough for both me and chat to hear him. “Your viewers have decided what they want.”
I try to math through the small tips, but right now that’s impossible. I can only make a high, questioning noise and wait for Oliver to tell me, or at least tell the chat what he’s going to do, since my math skills have regressed to that of a first grader.
“Guess you’ll be dripping cum for the next few hours,” he laughs darkly, and grips my hips more tightly. “But you’re going to come for me first, baby.”
I swear softly, coming up off the bed on all fours until he shoves me back down with the palm of one hand.
“No, stay right there. They have a perfect view of your face and how I’m fucking you. Don’t take that away from them,” he taunts, switching the angle of his thrusts just enough that he rubs against the spot inside of me that makes me see stars every single time.
It’s enough to slam me into an orgasm, and I cry out as I come, hands fisting the sheets and twisting them. I nearly lose my mask, though I manage to keep it from popping off just in time, as Oliver slams into me again and holds me in a grip that’s bruising while he comes as well.
“So good. Such a good Halloween treat. We just don’t deserve our Envy, do we chat?” His voice is rough, and trembles as he keeps himself deep in my body. Oliver moves his hips a few times, just enough to drag another whimper from me, before he finally pulls out and lets my hips fall to the bed.
“Seems she’s a little fucked out right now,” he tells the viewers, lifting my face up with his fingers tangled in my haironce more. “But I’m sure if she wasn’t, she’d tell you all how happy she is that you’ve made this a great Halloween for her.”
I stir, not wanting to let him take the whole burden of ending my stream. “He’s right,” I say, a smile curling over my lips. “And I’ll have to apologize again to Jay for not having any candy, when he was coming here to trick-or-treat,” I say, trying to match his savage enthusiasm.
“Nah, I got the sweetest thing for my trouble,” he replies, and tilts his head to read the messages of envy and how much most of my viewers wish they could trade places with him. “Sorry guys,” he apologizes, a cocky note entering his voice. “Maybe next year you’ll knock on the right door too. But this year?” He shoves me back down flat, his knee pressed between my thighs. “This year, she’s all mine. Remember her stream schedule, and mine, and we’ll see you again.”