slender thighs wouldn’t glisten as they slide nervously over one another.
Taking a deep breath, she begins crawling forward. Her pert, round tits sway, precariously hanging from the hammock of her bikini top as she nears my chair. I spread my legs wide, as inch by inch she moves. Finally she’s eye level with my straining cock. Has she ever seen a man’s dick, a real man, not some boy?
I clench my teeth. The thought of a boy’s cock near her fills me with inexplicable rage.
I push away the unease that threatens to derail my desires and ask her what I need to know. “Do you see what you do to me?”
Her eyes veil as she nods, swallowing visibly.
“With you walking around here in nearly nothing, how am I supposed to get any work done?”
Her hands are still on the floor, as she looks up at me from all fours. “I’m sorry, Uncle Max. I could—“ Her voice stammers. “—h-help you.”
My heart thumps with electricity, the jolt painful as it travels directly to my cock. Soon the poor zipper won’t hold. I imagine the metal teeth breaking, individual pieces scattering upon the floor as my dick springs free.
“Sit up, Lace, on your knees.”
She does as I say, her back straight as her painted toes offer her support and her firm ass rests on the back of her calves.
“Tell me the truth, have you ever ‘helped a man out’ before?”
Again, she swallows. Time stands still until she shakes her head slowly, her long wet hair skirting over her back, past the small ties of material holding her tits captive. Damn, she’s killing me.
“Has anyone ever ‘helped you out’?”
This time her gaze leaves mine. “Yes.” Her answer is barely a whisper.
I grip the arms of my large throne-like chair as she kneels at my feet. My teeth clench and I feel my skin prickle. “Who? Tell me.”
I may not have the right to demand such answers, but at the moment, I don’t give a fuck.
When she doesn’t answer, I lean forward and grab her chin. Pinching it forcefully between my thumb and first finger, I pull her green-blue eyes toward mine. “Tell me. Tell me who’s touched you and where.”
Her boobs heave as she nervously breathes, her warm exhale blowing across my grip.
When she doesn’t answer, I pinch her chin tighter. “Tell me.”
“Me, Uncle Max. I’m the one who’s touched me.”
Relief and heat flood my nervous system. “Where, Lace? Tell me where you’ve touched yourself.”
“In bed, in the shower—“
She knows damn well that isn’t what I mean. I interrupt, narrowing my eyes. “Your tits? Your pussy?”
Lacy nods, her lip again disappearing behind her teeth as her face is still held captive by my grip.
“Say it.”
“M-my tits and my pussy.”
“Do you make yourself cum?”
“Sometimes,” she admits.
Sometimes? I fucking could make her cum every time, a thousand times, anytime I want. And I want.
Leaning back again, I say, “Stand up and show me.”
She inhales sharply. The sound of my rushing blood dominates my hearing, which is surprising given that I’d think all my blood is in my dick with the way it’s throbbing. Lacy slowly stands, using my knees to help her rise.
Her innocent touch is erotic as she pushes herself up. Once standing, she dips her fingers beneath the white material.
“No, Lace. I can’t see under your suit.”
Slowly, she reaches for the side ties on her hips. Small little bows connected to the front and back of her suit. As she pulls the string, the material falls open, exposing light golden curls. Next, she reaches for the tie on the other side. As it unties, the bottom of her suit falls to the floor and though I barely move, I hear her gulp for air.
“If I pick that up,” I ask, “will it be wet?” I hold her gaze. “And not from the pool. I know you know what I’m asking. Lacy, are you turned on?”
Pink fills her cheeks, telling me what her words can’t. She is turned on as well as embarrassed. Her eyes fill with emotions she’s