"Is that one too hard for you?" She wasn't even trying to be concerned now. Her voice dripped with condescension and lust.
His eyelids had lost the battle to stay open after the word "foggy." It was easier to close his eyes, to let the thick, gray mist swirl around his brain. He didn't need to look at the page anymore. The letters were hopelessly jumbled. He knew she would help him. She would guide his hand to where it needed to go. She would guide his erection where it needed to go.
He hoped she would hurry up with that. His pants were now getting quite uncomfortable. He shifted in the chair again. If his muscles weren't so limp, he would stroke himself. He moaned in frustration.
"Okay, we'll do one more word." Her voice sounded as though it was traveling over a great distance to reach his ear, yet he knew she was standing next to him. He could feel her breast pressing into his arm. "The last word is 'will.'"
She picked up his unresponsive hand, closed his fingers around the pencil, and circled the word. "This one might not seem like it fits in," she explained. "I'll tell you why I chose it, though. Your will belongs to me." She came around the chair to face him. "I decide when you're awake. I decide when you sleep. I decide when you're turned on. And I decide when you get to come."
He moaned in response. The little voice that had been so active earlier was now muted. Instead, he heard her voice. It was telling him what to think, what to do.
Right now, her voice was telling him to stand up and follow her into her bedroom. Next, it told him to stand still as she undressed him. Slowly. Teasingly. The voice told him that every time she touched him, he would feel warm pleasure. She traced her finger down his sternum. He moaned as liquid heat flowed through her finger.
Her voice told him to lay on the bed. The only position that he would be in is the one she chose for him. Tonight, he would lay underneath her, on his back, as she rode him.
"I tell you when to come," she panted as she bounced on top of him. "I, oh, I decide, oh! And I decide, ah, you can't come, ah, until I do!" She gasped.
If his eyes had been open, he would have seen her throw her head back, her breasts heave. He would have seen sweat glisten off their bodies. He would have loved watching her on top of him, bouncing up and down, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy, in triumph.
He didn't mind that his eyes were closed, though. He felt too good to care much about anything. The warm, liquid pleasure was flowing through his entire body now, not just his erection. He was being carried on a gentle wave of pure bliss. It began rising higher and higher, carrying him on a current. The current was rising. It was going to crash onto the shore. He had never been so excited to be swept away.
When he was allowed to reach his climax, he let out a soft moan. His body shuddered. The orgasm was so strong, his head lolled onto the mattress.
"Here's another word that was in the word search," she said shakily. "Sleep." And because she told him to, he did.
