I practically choked on the inhale, pulling the joint away. "What?!" I looked back at the screen and mentally flashed through the several hundreds of pictures I'd just seen. I shook my head and tried another toke, looking back at his cock. He was still standing next to me, the head of his thing bobbing up and down.
"Hey! Don't get the wrong idea. That's just my take! I split it with 'em. Hell, it's their bodies and their fantasies, I just take the pictures and make sure they get properly distributed and paid for."
He slid down onto the couch next to me, his naked thigh brushing against mine. He pushed me aside slightly, reaching for the keyboard. His arm brushed my nipple; I felt it start to pucker.
"By the way," he started typing, " Ben called while you were asleep. He said the customer was very pleased and gave us shit for doing such a crappy job..."
I smiled kind of funny, taking another drag.
"...and he was curious about the pictures."
I did choke this time, the smoke whooshing out of me with a terrible coughing fit. I put down the roach and tried to catch my breath.
"Hey...try to hold it together there, cowgirl." He rubbed my back, trying to comfort me. The little electric shocks from his fingers against my naked skin reminded me I was deeper into this shit now than I was 12 hours before. "I have the pictures. They're safe. Ben was just wondering why they weren't in the camera."
Pot does funny things to me sometimes. Depending on the weed and a bunch of other things, the body rush can be intense. When I fuck up, like coughing, I knew the rush could be bad. I sat back trying to get control of the spasming. He got up to get me a glass of water, and even in the middle of my growing panic, I watched his cock bobbing in front of him, somewhere between hard and soft. His balls were tight against the base, his scrotum smooth. As the pain from my lungs began to subside, I started to feel my nerves tingling, especially around my clit and vagina where he'd been playing. It was hours ago, but the sensations were still fresh, made all the more intense by the smoke.
I closed my eyes and breathed as steadily as I could, taking a long drink. Usually that helped, but in this case all of the images I'd been browsing came rushing towards me, one after the other. With each heartbeat the pulsing between my legs got stronger. I felt as if my vagina was swelling, like there wasn't enough space between my legs for it anymore. I opened my thighs a little to give it space, but it didn't help.
"Look." I snapped my eyes opened and looked. His fingers flicked across the keys, bringing up a browser. In a moment he had several windows open, each one pointing to a different porn site, each of those with dozens of women in various states of exposure. "Marcia." He pointed to the photo I had just been looking at, only now it occupied a slot among several similar shots, none of which were even remotely interesting in comparison. "Top performer on that site. Shit, look at the competition...as if."
"What do you
do
, Tim?" The high was coming on stronger now; I was beginning to feel a lot like Alice falling into the rabbit hole.
Things definitely weren't what they seemed to be a few hours ago, but one thing was clear: I was sitting naked, next to a naked guy, looking at naked women, and no one, not a soul, knew where I was. The body rush, my racing heart, didn't help reduce my growing anxiety, or the hallucination of my gigantic vagina.
"That's a good question " He stopped and turned to face me a look of pure desire on his face. I felt pinned where I was, the last 24 hours collapsing around me, the images of the women, my own willingness to play along with him. I watched, frozen, as his hands gently separated my legs, opening me wider, his eyes traveling down to my crotch. "An equally good question would be: what do
you
want me to do?"
The moment his hands touched my thighs an electric spasm shot up my spine, crystallizing the body rush into a single tight nerve. I gasped and my arms jumped involuntarily. I didn't intend to swat him away -- they just jumped like when a doctor tests your reflexes.
His penis did its own little jumpy motions lifting off his thigh as his fingers brushed my pubic hair. His index fingernail lightly brushed my clit and I jumped again, the pulse of electricity forcing a moan from me. I could feel moisture beginning to seep down to my entrance. My heartbeat was going crazy, the body rush in full bloom, my body started to vibrate uncontrollably. I moaned, not because of what his fingers were doing, or about to do, but from the rising panic that sometimes comes with the beginning of a high. I shifted on the couch, trying to find a position that would calm everything down and realized I had made it easier for him to access me. On top of everything else I blushed, a deep red starting from the top of my head that I knew would be pink to my nipples.
"It's okay," he said as his finger gently stroked me. "I know you want it. Nobody would sit here looking at all of this, naked in a guy's house, if they didn't want it." His voice was like honey and his touch was electric. All of a sudden, all of the craziness going on everywhere else in my body suddenly stopped -- the entire energy focused on the tip of his fingers. It was like a laser beam was stroking my lips; lips the size of the couch cushion, my vagina blossoming into a Georgia O'Keefe flower. What had been an electric buzz now became a super-nova spreading at the speed of light from the tips of his fingers up into the spaces inside my abdomen, swirling like a small electric tornado. Over the years I've revisited that moment and tried to describe it, to myself, to my closest friends, but I've never been able to capture it -- electric, exploding suns, none of it makes sense.
The hot glow, centered in my groin, swirled up towards my spine, a thin finger stroking at the base of my brain. I was so fucking high and all I wanted was to feel him stroking me, honing the electric current tighter and brighter. And then, everything shifted again, the sensations all focusing on a twisting complex intertwining, a snaking of sensations that shot into my brain. I laughed, even then, at the clichés of fireworks, but in some weird way, that's exactly what happened: the twisting energy shooting up my spine suddenly burst into my brain like those bright white balls you see at fireworks displays. No booms, just bright. So bright I closed my eyes instinctively, even though the explosions were inside my head.
Suddenly, in one of those intense 'religious moments' I had a clear vision of what I should be doing for my life. All at once, all of the loose ends I had been ignoring suddenly wove themselves into a clear pattern -- the brightness in my head lighting up a path towards a future, clear and so certain I could practically touch it.
In that moment, the twisting energy fed by his fingers flitting over my clit, I knew I could easily do what some of those women had done. I had a better looking body, and I had some better ideas for what would turn a guy on. Just sitting there, with Tim doing all the work, I had given him an erection for the third time in 12 hours.
I groaned as his finger entered me, the probing finally pulling me out of my vision and I sat back against the couch, opening wider for him. I wanted to cum and I wanted him to make me. I wanted him to photograph me, just as he had videoed me earlier in the day. The image of being videoed as I orgasmed pushed me over the edge; as the orgasm pulsed through me, my cunt grabbed his finger, pulling him in deeper. I groaned so loudly I laughed. I'd never made noises before...but then again, I'd never done it with a guy quite like this before.
The high hit full tilt, my brain blazing with ideas about what I would do. He kept pulsing his finger inside me, rubbing my clit and a spot deeper than I usually reached; I panted and put my hands on his wrist.
He kept his finger in me as he shifted, lifting his leg over me. I looked down at his cock, now hard and sticking up at my breasts, his hand crossing his body to disappear between my legs. He rose up on his knees, our combined weight on the couch pushing us into the cushions. The position was anything but relaxing, but I could tell relaxation wasn't his intention. He put his free hand on the couch back, just behind my head and leaned up.
I knew what he wanted and I hesitated only a little. He had said I would be swallowing his cum before the end of the day; apparently this was it. His finger kept me going...I didn't know what it would be like to take his crème in my mouth, but I was so stoned and turned on there was nothing that could stop me.
