Blake Puts Me In My Place

This isn't the first time I've had something inside of me. Hell, I think even Blake was inside of me last night, even if only for a few fleeting moments.

But when my finger presses forward it might as well be the first time. When the first inch of my digit parts the folds of my sex and slips into the inner warmth, it might as well be the first time I've ever had anything inside of me.

I am tight. Hot and wet and warm. The walls of me clench around my finger, squeezing so tightly that I can barely even move myself.

In my shorts my hand squirms and twitches, my fingers tensing out and then curling in and as they do the side of my thumb brushes against my clit and sends a shock of pleasure that reverberates through me.

I gasp and my mouth falls open, my eyes clenching shut as a moan of pleasure is ripped out of me.

I need more.

My finger presses forward, down to the second joint on it as I plunge it into me. Hotter still than before and now even tighter as my body reacts to this welcome invasion, as the walls of my sex clench and almost pull at me, begging for a deeper thrust.

But I need to pull back in order to do that and I do, the wetness of my eagerness coating my finger as I pull it out of me and play it up and around my clit in a circle. I feel my body tense, my back almost arching away from him, as I focus on myself and not on Blake.

And he doesn't like that.

His hand snaps out and grasps the back of my head and roughly he tugs me forward, drawing me back to him. As he does his hips thrust forward until the head of him lifts out of my cleavage as if he's plunging into the depths of me, filling me with his thrust.

He holds me there. Holding me until my eyes open up to look at him and meet his gaze. And I know that's what he wants so I don't give it to him, not yet.

He wants to remind me that I belong to him. He wants to show me that this moment is about his pleasure, not mine. He wants me to swear myself to him, as any man who gets off on the possession of women does.

And that's what he wants from me, that's his whole damn point here.

Every compliment and every insult. Every thrust and every bit of pleasure. It's all dedicated to making me want him and crave him and need him and a part of it is working, but another part of me knows that it won't.

Blake can't play me like that. Because I've been with others too.

With Lucas, all his hard maturity and his patience. With Jake and his power and strength. With the stranger from the library, the one who drew me in without me even knowing his name.

They all have their own appeals and Blake does too, but they all have bring something to the table that he could never find it in himself to give.

All those men are generous. They want but they don't want to keep. They have, but they don't need to hold.

It's enough for them for us to have our fun.

They don't need to own me too.

I register all of that in the instant where he tenses, where his hand grips me harder. I realize it all in the moment before my eyes open and so when I do lock eyes with him, he has no power over me.

"This is mine, today," Blake snarls at me, "You understand? I come first."

I nod as my fingers thrust forward, as I plunge them back into myself and give myself over to myself first and foremost.

"Yes Sir," I lie, "It's all about you."

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