Giovanna waited for a few moments before pulling a small, thin vibrator from a side compartment in the couch. The horny bitch had always kept a sex toy or two stashed away in various rooms in the house even when she was married, just so she never had to travel too far if a sudden urge hit. Since she had met Cameron however, the number of toys, gizmos and gadgets she owned had almost tripled. She had at least one in every room in the house (without counting the literal treasure chest she kept in the master bedroom for both of their enjoyment) and used them frequently without a care who knew it. She once had a visiting girlfriend call her out on the number of toys she possessed. Vonni challenged her to let Cameron fuck her one time and see if *she* could go a week without acting like a damn crack addict. Cameron had started working at a local hospital as a medical equipment technician, which meant Vonni was left to her own devices nine hours a day, five days a week.
As long as she was left alone to pursue her own interests Giovanna was fine, but more often than not that was not the case. Cam had gotten into the habit of sending her explicit text messages or e-mails during the day, and it was a battle of will power to keep her from masturbating, a battle she fought to the end but always ultimately lost. And if he managed to slip away for a few minutes and make a call, it was over. The aura of sexuality that radiated from him apparently carried on his voice as well, because Cam rarely got three whole sentences out before she had a toy in hand, and she *never* let him hang up without hearing her bust at least one nut.
As she activated the clit tickler and placed its humming head directly onto her love button, Vonni was not waiting on a phone call at all, but the tell-tale tromping of giant footsteps through the hall and down the stairs, signaling her pussy's impending doom. As moments turned into minutes, she began to worry that something might be wrong; perhaps she had bound him too tightly for him to be able to get out. Then why wouldn't he call for help, she wondered. Then it hit her: Cameron was making Giovanna wait. He was making her think about it. This was now a mental game of anticipation, and it had worked to perfection. She was spread wide on their sofa fondling herself *waiting* for him to come and fuck the high unholy hell out of her.
Vonni got up and started up the stairs to confront Cameron, but both feet were still on the living room floor when she saw what little light there was in the house cast his silhouette against the darkness of the hallway. Seeing him like that always frightened her some but excited her more; he seemed to become one with the darkness that surrounded him, like it was a part of his own body. She slowly backed away from the steps, but every step of hers was matched by one of his as he emerged from the darkness. For reasons unknown Giovanna suddenly broke into a sprint for the back of the house, but Cameron effortlessly hopped the banister and reached out for her. Had he been a split second slower he would have missed her, but his hand slapped square on the back of her neck. He squeezed firmly enough to hold her but not hard enough to harm her, which sent a jolt through her entire body. From the first time he held her neck like that and forced her head into a pillow when he was hammering her ass from behind one day she had loved it. In fact, it was that day she had resolved to stop comparing her sex life now to the way it was when she was married to Ronnie.
Sex with Ronnie had always been pleasant and satisfying, but the whirlwind that had come into her life called Cameron Javier Dent was a different animal altogether. She would do anything for Ronnie if he asked for it, but she would do the same as soon as she *thought* it might be on Cameron's mind, and enjoy it twice as much. Ronnie asked for or requested too much; if Cameron wanted something he *took* it. If he wanted her in a certain position, he *put* her there. If he wanted her out in public, he *took* her there. If he wanted a particular object in one of her holes, he *put* it there. Well, he usually just had to show it to her and she did the rest, but it was just the same. Their styles were different, their techniques were different, their attitudes were different, and their dicks were different. Simply put, Cameron *wasn't* Ronnie. It was like life had taken away her 1990 BMW and handed her a 2008 Hummer, and she was bound and determined to ride harder, drive faster and take more chances than she ever had in her life.
All these thoughts buzzed through Giovanna's head in the split second it took for Cameron to fling her effortlessly toward the sofa. The momentum from his toss was perfect: just enough to carry her to the edge of the sofa, where she sold a flop. Granted, they both loved rough sex, but injury was going too far. "So you wanna play games, huh?" he said in his best Latino-gangster-knockoff voice, wrapping her mid-waist-length braids around his hand.
