I felt myself grind my hips against him, and felt the sudden wetness dripping from between my legs, running down my thighs. The scream turned to a muffled moan as I closed my eyes and returned his kiss. My arms slid around him, my eyes closed as I pressed my body against his. I wanted him to use me, to push me down and take me roughly, to pleasure himself with my body, using me for his own masturbatory delight, hard and uncaring...

"No!" some small part of myself silently screamed. I'd never gone to that place with anyone but Robin. I wanted to stop him, to push him away, to scream "How dare you!" to him-this man who'd watched me without my knowledge, who'd come in through the front door believing I would give my body to him. That tiny, secret part of me withdrew from myself, and watched as if from outside my body in horror as I moaned against his tongue. He kept pulling my hair as his other hand slid between my legs; my knees buckled and I felt a wave of raw animal pleasure wash over my body as his blunt fingers forced their way roughly into me. I made a gutteral noise in the back of my throat; the small part of me that still knew reason raged in silent fury at myself as I spread my legs wider for him, allowing easier access.

And then his fingers were thrusting inside me, and his tongue was thrusting in and out of my mouth in the same rhythm, and that small part of me that still knew to object went somewhere else. I felt my legs open further, inviting him in more deeply; I felt my arms slide around him, felt my body press against him, heard myself moan as his fingers tightened in my hair...

...and just like that, his mouth was gone, his fingers slipped out of me, and he had released me. I stared at him, panting, struggling to control myself as waves of conflicting emotions washed over me. I felt naked, exposed, vulnerable, ashamed...and beneath it all, frighteningly, desperately aroused. My need was obvious to him; it had to be. He could see how hard my nipples were, could see the creamy juices running down my legs; knowing that he knew made my arousal that much more desperate.

He brought his fingertips up to my lips, brushing them very lightly; without hesitation, I took them into my mouth, and closed my eyes as I drew them in. My hands found his; I closed my hands around his hand and held it still as I moved my head, swirling my tongue around his fingers.

His eyes flicked back for a moment, and a rush of euphoria rose in me. Seeing him respond made me feel intensely desired, and the thought of giving myself totally to him suddenly became almost intoxicating. I opened my mouth, smiling at him as I guided his hand deeper, until I could feel his fingertips at the back of my throat. I wrapped my lips tightly around his fingers, kissing his knuckles, and drew his fingers slowly from my mouth.

"Mmm," he said, watching me through half-closed eyes. "Seriously, I wasn't sure that I would know what to do with you. You know, there's even a part of me that thought I might chicken out at the last minute." He drew his hand away from me, then caressed my cheek gently. "But watching your show on the cameras gave me some ideas." Without warning, his hand was curled in my hair again, pulling hard, forcing my head back, making me cry out. "Kneel," he said, his voice harder.

I sank to my knees in front of him. His hand stayed with me, his fingers still curled in my hair. Without hesitation, my hands went to the bulge in his jeans, straining at the denim, and as I caressed and stroked him through the material, I felt a small spot of wetness seeping through the fabric.

Without thought or hesitation, my fingers found the button on the waist of his jeans, and I pulled it open, and yanked down the zipper eagerly. His erect cock sprang out, smacking me on the face, and I realized with surprise that he wasn't wearing any underwear. His cock, hard and very thick, rolled wetly off the side of my face, and a momentary flash of shame blazed over me. From somewhere far away, the reasoning part of me reasserted itself, and I leaned back on my heels, looking up at him.

He pulled my hair sharply, bringing my face closer to him, and turned his hips, slapping my cheek with his erect cock. A glistening drop of warm wetness fell from the head of his penis, splattering on my leg. He brought the head up to my lips. "Open," he said, his voice still hard.

Another flash of humiliation. I froze, my heart hammering, and didn't respond. No way, that small voice said, this isn't a fantasy any more, this is too real, I don't want to do this, I am not taking this man's cock in my mouth! I barely know him! I felt hot; beads of sweat formed on my body and rolled down my oiled skin. What the hell is wrong with you, on your knees in front of this man...

His erection remained motionless, pressed lightly against my lips. His fingers curled tighter in my hair, and he began pulling harder, increasing the pressure very slowly until I cried out in pain. I looked up at him from beneath my bangs. He looked down at me with eyes filled with hunger and greed and pure sexual desire...

...and in that moment, I knew he'd won.

I knew that look, very well-that expression of pride and possession and raw carnality. Ranbir lacked Robin's presence, Robin's easy and natural authority, his commanding aura of control, but that look...that look of hungry, confident lust was the same. And I could not stop what it did to me.

My lips parted and I opened my mouth for him, sending that still small protesting voice somewhere far away. Moving with studied deliberation, he placed his hands on the sides of my head, holding me tightly; then, very slowly, he pushed my head down onto his erect cock, sliding it slowly into my mouth, deeper and deeper, until I felt it against the back of my throat and my nose pressed against his pubic hairs. "Suck," he said.

His cock felt strange in my mouth, slightly shorter but significantly thicker than Robin's. I began moving my head slowly, running my tongue along the soft underside of his shaft as I slid it almost completely out of my mouth. My tongue swirled in circles over the head of his cock, drawing a shuddering moan from him, before I took it deeply into my mouth again. His breathing became ragged as I worked his cock slowly, sliding it in and out of my mouth in long, lazy strokes as my tongue danced over it. Unconsciously, my hands slid between my legs, and I began rocking my hips against them as my fingers slid over my clit.

I felt wetness pour over my fingers, and I closed my eyes again, moaning around his cock as I slid my fingers slowly into my dripping sex. I took his rigid penis deeply into my mouth again, very slowly, letting my tongue play over the soft skin as it sank into my hungry mouth. I held him there for a long moment, his cock filling my mouth and my fingers deep inside myself; then, slowly at first, I began sucking him in earnest, sliding my fingers in and out of my dripping pussy in time with the bobbing of my head.

His breath sharpened as I increased my pace. I closed my eyes and began sucking in earnest, my head bobbing more and more quickly. I rocked my hips against my hands, my fingers dancing over my engorged clit, as I grew increasingly aroused by the feel of the strange penis in my mouth. I moaned around his cock again as I plunged my fingers over and over into my dripping pussy, and felt his cock stiffen in response. I drew it deeper, knowing his orgasm was close, longing to feel his warm thick come spurting against the back of my throat as I brought myself to orgasm...

"No!" he said, pulling my head away from him. His penis made a wet sucking sound as it slipped out of my mouth. He took a step away from me, and I froze again, my fingers buried inside myself, looking up at him. His face was flushed, and I could tell he had interrupted me as he was just on the edge of orgasm. Disappointment and shame battled in me, disappointment because I was so close to feeling the warm, delicious spurt in my mouth, shame because I wanted it so badly.

"No, I'm not going to come in your mouth," he said. "I have a better idea. Stand up." He reached down, offering me his hand, then pulled me to my feet. "Lie down on the couch on your back."

Without a word, I did as I was told, first setting the speculum and the dildo I'd used earlier on the coffee table, then lying on my back on the leather couch. I spread my legs widely, expecting him to mount me, to push his cock into me, but instead he kneeled over me. "I got this idea from watching your performance in the shower," he said. "Your little show nearly made me come." He straddled my body, pressing his erection between my breasts. "And since your body is all oiled up, that makes things that much easier."

He began rocking his hips, sliding his cock between my oiled-up breasts. "Press your breasts together," he said. I whimpered, arching my back and moving my hips in need, my pussy burning and ignored, as I pressed my breasts together. He moaned, his eyes rolling back, as he moved more quickly, his penis sliding in the cleavage between my breasts.

It didn't take long. I felt his body tense as I pressed my breasts around his cock, and he threw back his head and screamed as it began gushing wildly. The first spurt arced up over my chin and left a streak of wetness across my face; the next spurts hit my chin, gushed between my breasts, and spattered over my shoulder. He sat upright and took his cock in his hand, still moaning and gasping as he stroked himself and continued to come. Gush after gush sprayed over my body, covering my breasts and belly in warm, thick goo.

Finally, it was over. His moans subsided as he stopped stroking his cock, and he stood up, dragging his limp, wet penis over my breast and across the side of my face. "Whew!" he said, breathing hard.

I lay on the couch, my arousal at a fever pitch, feeling the puddles of warm wetness between my breasts.