He used me! He so fucking used me!
I didn’t really think twice about the chances of him filming us – I mean, when you’re about to get into your girlfriend’s pants for the first (and so far only) time, who spends too much time worrying about spy cameras looking in?
So at first I couldn’t really see the big deal when he sat me down beside him on the big couch in his living room and started to screen the 3-D footage on his wallscreen (pretty state-of-the-art equipment for an itinerant writer, really – I guess I should have looked a bit harder at the outset – seen past the grunge to the money underneath).
It was a shock to see how I looked – so abject and whiney, a real wench. She looked sensational, though, a complete sex-goddess. I didn’t even fight too hard when his hand crept up my skirt and onto my cunt. If he hadn’t started it, I might soon have started rubbing myself down there anyway, like an old dog against a chairleg.
“What will your mother think?” he asked, after a while. “Does she know you’re gay?”
“What d’you mean? You wouldn’t show this to her, would you?” Yes, humble reader, that’s the best I could come up with in the way of snappy rejoinders and quickfire cut-and-thrust ...
His hand kept up the relentless rub and tweak motion he seemed to have decided was most likely to make me come. So far he was pretty much on the button there, too, damn him!
I tried to push away the hand. Suddenly it was as if my whole insides had filled up with ice.
“You wouldn’t! Why would you? Girls have been having a good time with other girls for centuries. It’s not a crime. She’d probably be just as shocked if she saw some film of what you’re doing to me now …”
“Maybe you’re right. Shall we dial her up and see? I could invite her around to watch you in big screen comfort, or maybe just send her the file on her home communicator. That way she can view it in bed, or maybe flick it on to your father if you think he’d be amused as well.”
I started to cry. My God, I haven’t cried in years. But the thought of all those people, the people I love most, watching me crawling around on a bed, begging my lover to come in my mouth, just dropped the whole bottom out of my world.
I was whining and crying and writhing all at the same time, but there was no getting away from him, the bastard. He always took care to cuff my hands before we began our sessions.
Only so far all they’d involved had been a little touching and feeling up before I went down on his big soap-smelling dick (I guess he didn’t want me to gag on his scent this early in the game).
The truth was, a truth I can hardly bring myself to admit to myself, that the whole thing was a little exciting as well. I felt totally out of my depth, true. I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry for my mummy. But there was another part of me that could see that there was something really cool about all this – as if I’d grown up at last. I was the kind of chick who got blackmailed over sex tapes … my gorgeous youthful body would writhe in people’s imaginations the way I was writhing now. Even Pat might stop patronising me now and treat me as an equal – a real adult lover rather than an overgrown Barbie sextoy.
“What do you want from me?” I managed to gasp out at last, as his hands tweaked at my taut nipples.
“Ah, good. The right question at last. I knew I hadn’t misjudged you … that you were too smart a girl not to see all the angles. Of course it’s very pleasant to manhandle you like this – and I’ve very much enjoyed your oral ministrations over the last couple of days – but clearly obtaining a young girl to play with wouldn’t involve nearly so much planning and work. All I’d really need to do would be to hang around the entrance to your school with a fistful of credits and a backstage pass to Xanadu to have enough company to last me till Doomsday. Yours is not a particularly discriminating generation.”
“So why did you set up all this?”
“Clearly not to punish you (or your parents, for that matter) for your being gay. That’s between you and your maker. It’s true that you might have made a more discreet choice of girlfriends, but then, given your inexperience, I must confess to being rather impressed at your ability to get her to go out with you at all. I know that young girls tend to fall for older, sophisticated women, but it’s interesting to see that the reverse of the equation operates even with someone like her.”
“Someone like her? Is she the one you’re interested in?”
“Of course! You couldn’t possibly imagine that it was you and your mother I wanted to check up on … The two of you are model citizens so far as I’m concerned. I know you think that you’re quite a bad girl, but your pussy is as squeaky clean as the rest of you so far as I’m concerned.”
And at that the fucker pulled his hand out of me, inhaled the fragrance on his fingers, tasted it, then gave them to me to suck.