Page 79 of Switch
Now that I’m up here on the platform, I feel completely exposed.
“You want me to get you naked, baby?”
“Yes, Keeper.”
“Keep your eyes on me,” he says as he unbuttons my shirt.“I’m cool with the thrill of fucking you in public, but all of you belongs to me.Right?”
“Right, Keeper.”The relief that sweeps through me takes me by surprise.When Marina shared me with her friends, I was fine with it.I didn’t complain.Still, I like PJ’s idea of ownership better.
PJ pushes off my shirt, my slacks, and everything else with the same steadiness, laying my clothing over a tufted bench at the back wall of the cage.Then he leads me to sit on the raised platform in the center while he takes off his own.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
I think back to that night here.The couple.The tenderness between them and the ache it gave me to watch.
In the distance, someone drops a glass.The sound of it shattering reminds me of where we are.Reminds me of the people watching.Every hair on my body stands on end.
As PJ commanded, I keep my eyes on him.“Make love to me, Keeper.”
And he does.He lays me on my back on the padded platform, never breaking eye contact as he preps me, crawls between my legs, and takes me into his mouth before sliding into my ass.
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you, Keeper.”
When I saw that couple making love in this cage, I was envious.Disheartened.I couldn’t imagine having anything like that for myself.Now here I am, months later, with PJ, and it’s better than I could have imagined.It’s not some imagined fantasy.It’s him, and it’s real.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he reminds me when I close them.
“I’m focusing on how good it feels, Keeper.”
He’s good at reading me, always knowing the right angles.I love it when he talks to me during sex, reeling out a steady stream of “do you like it when I do this?”and “does that feel good?”But I like this too.This quiet knowing between us.
It’s new for me.It’s good.
He keeps his gaze on mine, occasionally glancing at one part of me or another.
“I’m okay,” I tell him quietly.“I’ll tell you if I’m not.”
“If you’re only okay, then I’m doing something wrong.”
The rhythm of his thrusts is steadier than usual—a swift push in, followed by a secondary thrust to really make me feel full.Then he pulls out and does it again.It’s not quick, but it’s thorough.
When we met I was drawn in by the fact that PJ didn’t give me what I wanted; he gave me what I needed.Tonight he’s giving me both.
What do we look like to the people watching?Do we look as fluid and intimate as the couple I remember watching?Are they tittering over a man my size submitting to one who’s younger and smaller?
I know they’re out there; it’s impossible to forget.There are murmurs and hushed whispers coming from the dark room beyond, and from the far end of the room also comes the crack of a whip.We’re not the only ones performing right now.
“I could stay buried inside you for the rest of my life.”PJ sighs as he pushes into me again.“Too bad I’m not independently wealthy, or I think I might try.”
“Yes, please.”I clutch at his back hard enough to bruise, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
We’ve never really discussed that I am, in fact, independently wealthy.He must have some idea.He knows about Marina.He’s seen my house.My car.But it’s not the sort of conversation one has in a sex club.
Probably.
We sink into each other, moving together like the tide flowing in and out.In sync.Natural.By the time I come, with PJ pinning my wrists to the platform and whispering filthy things in my ear, I’m surprised to find I actually have forgotten about the crowd.
