Page 29 of You're So Vine
Cam’s expression shifts between interested and wary.
“Me on top,” I add. “With a twist.”
He seems reluctant to move. Fair enough; guess his cock’s pretty happy where it is.
I slap him lightly on the shoulder. “Up and over, my guy.”
A more pleasing flex of arm muscles as Cam cups my ass and pulls me over with him with minimum interruption of sexual connection. I settle myself on top, lay my palms flat on his abs, and relish the flinch of desire that instinctively drives his cock deeper into me. But he can only go so far because Iam in charge of the rhythm, and I can lift myself up and, cruelly, off him. Or I can just let the tip of his cock in, which is both cruel and maddening. I’ll do that for a short time, shall I?
Cam’s glute muscles are fully engaged as he strives to get all the way in. His jaw is tight with frustration, and I know he’s a nanosecond away from clamping my hips so he can take back control. Time for phase two: the twist.
I lift off him. He curses under his breath.
“Dammit, Ava.”
“Stay cool,” I tell him. “It’ll be worth it.”
I do a swift one-eighty turn, so I’m now facing away, and Cam has a view of my back and ass. Slowly, I lower myself down onto him again, and he groans and gives in to grabbing my hips. Thing is, in this position, I’ve got even greater control, especially as he’s raised his knees a little, giving me more leverage. I also have easy access to his balls and his sensitive rear zone, along with my own front-facing erogenous go-tos, my breasts and clit. He is absolutely at my mercy and I’m going to drive him insane.
I love this position, and I let myself sink into the pleasure of it, moving slowly up and down the length of his shaft, letting my hands wander over my body and his. Setting mypace, despite Cam’s clear wish to make more of a contribution.
Not seeing your partner’s face means you lose a little something, but what you can’t see, you can totally feel. And hear in their breathing and involuntary noises, including the odd expletive that lets you know you’re on the right track. I reach down to cup Cam’s balls and he swears quietly but with feeling. I lick a finger and run it from his balls southwards, and he bucks underneath me like I’ve plugged him straight into a power socket. Take that, Mr Slow and Steady.
His hands are so tight on my hips now, they’ll probably leave marks. His own hips are driving upwards, all restraint gone now, and I hear a muttered stream of “Fuckfuckfuck.” He’s close and he’s desperate. I won’t let him suffer too much longer. But first, a little attention to my own needs.
I prize one of his hands off my hip and place it on my breast. My other hand gets busy with my own pleasure, and with every gasp I make, I feel Cam get more and more worked up. He’s caught between wanting to do right by me but worrying that his balls will literally explode if he doesn’t come soon.
I don’t know if it’s on purpose or an accidental reflex, but he tweaks my nipple hard, and it’s enough to send me over the edge. The instant I start, he drives his cock into me in strong hard thrusts until I feel the surge of heat as he comes with a shout of relief and release.
My finger is still on my clit, which starts protesting at the pressure. So, I give it a break and let myself sink onto Cam’s knees, drawn all the way up now, and rest my head on folded arms. I wouldn’t be able to do this if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, and I’m making the most of it.
Under my ass, I can feel Cam’s diaphragm heaving up and down, as he gets his breath back. His cock is jumping lightly inside me, still hard but not for too much longer.
Cam’s hands slide off my hips and start to fondle my ass.
“So,” he says. “What do you call this position?”
“No idea,” I tell him over my shoulder. “But I like to think of it as the position where I got you to lose control.”
“That important to you?”
I shrug, which isn’t an answer. “It’s fun.”
“You know, I’m four times your size,” he says. “I could pin you to the bed, no problem.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I grin.
His cock is slipping now, and he carefully extracts himself. I dismount, so to speak, and lie back on the bed to enjoy the sleepy post-orgasm glow, and the fact that it’s Cam who has to trot all the way downstairs to the bathroom to deal with the condom.
The ceiling of Cam’s bedroom is simply but beautifully constructed. I stare up at it, listening to the quiet noises from downstairs. All of a sudden, like it’s emitting a subsonic message, I become acutely aware of Cam’s phone. I trust that he turned it off, I really do. But what if he only thought he did, and I can see what Lee Armstrong actually texted him?
I trust that he told me the truth about what she said, too. But it’s those little touches, the emojis, the xx’s, that change a standard message into one that’s more … intimate.
What I should do is ask Cam straight out. Ask him about Lee, and their shared past. What I shouldn’t do is snoop.
But it’s calling to me, like some possessed object. And all I have to do is roll over and quickly tap the screen. Work of a moment.
Cam must have been already halfway up the stairs. His bare feet don’t make the noise of his boots. He comes through the door, glass of water in each hand, to find me lying on the edge of the bed, arm outstretched, one hand on his phone.
