06: C*m For The Camera.

Barbara.

**

I started walking toward the house.

My legs felt weak and my chest was still tight from everything that had just happened.

I had barely taken three steps when his hand closed around my wrist and pulled me back hard.

He dragged me closer until my body was almost pressed against his.

“Do it here.” he said.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

The night air was cool on my skin but heat was already climbing up my neck and into my face.

We were still outside in the open yard with the car right there and the house lights glowing behind us.

Anyone could walk out.

Anyone could see.

But he did not care and neither did I because all I wanted was for him to stop looking at me like I had already lost him.

The fear of losing him sat heavier in my chest than any shame, and I would do whatever he asked if it meant he stayed.

He leaned back against the side of his car with one ankle crossed over the other and took his phone out of his pocket.

He unlocked it, opened the camera, and pointed it straight at me.

The little red light came on.

He was recording.

He set the phone carefully on the hood so the lens faced me fully, then he settled against the car again and watched.

“Take the dress off.” he said quietly. “Slow. Let me see every inch.”

My fingers found the zipper at the side of the dress.

It stuck for a second so I had to wiggle it free and the sound of it coming down felt loud in the quiet night.

I pulled the straps off my shoulders one by one. The fabric slid down my arms and I stepped out of it carefully.

He did not speak.

He only watched.

His eyes moved over me the way they always did when he wanted me to feel both small and wanted at the same time.

My breasts felt heavy in the night air and my nipples tightened from the cold and from the way he was looking at me.

I was completely bare now and the air touched every part of me.

“On the ground.” he said. “And on your back. Right there where I can see you.”

I lowered myself carefully and looked up at him.

He was still leaning against the car with one hand near the phone to make sure it stayed steady. With the other hand he opened his belt, pulled the zipper down, and took his cock out.

It was already hard, thick and heavy in his hand.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and started stroking slowly.

He moved his hand from the base all the way up to the tip, then back down again in a long steady pull.

His thumb brushed over the head each time, spreading the wetness that was already gathering there.

The sound of his hand moving was soft but clear in the quiet and he never looked away from me while he did it.

“Open your legs.” he said. “Wider. Show me.”

I bent my knees and let my thighs fall open.

The night air touched me between my legs and I felt completely exposed.

Heat rushed up my neck and my heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat.

He kept stroking himself slower now, watching every movement I made.

“Touch yourself.” he said. “Show me. Show the camera. Show me how you make yourself cum when you think about me.”

My hand moved down my stomach, and my fingers slid between my legs.

I was already wet.

I rubbed slow circles over my clit the way I always did when I was alone and thinking about him.

My breath came out shaky.

He watched and his hand kept moving on his cock in the same slow rhythm, up and down, base to tip, thumb sliding over the head.

“That’s it.” he said, voice low and rough. “Look at you. Spreading yourself open on the dirt like a finished woman. You know no man is ever going to love you the way I do. No man is going to fuck you the way I will. They will use you and leave you empty. But me? I own every part of this. Every sound you make. Every time your legs shake. You belong to me.”

His words sank into me deeper than any touch.

I rubbed faster.

Two fingers slipped inside me and I pushed them in and out while my thumb stayed on my clit.

My hips lifted off the ground without me telling them to.

The stones dug into my back but I barely felt them because all I could feel was the heat between my legs and the way his eyes stayed locked on me.

He stroked himself harder now.

His hand moved faster and I could see the muscles in his forearm working.

The wet sound of his fist on his cock mixed with the soft wet sounds of my own fingers.

He never looked away and the camera kept recording everything... except him.

“You almost lost me tonight.” he continued. “You almost let another man sit in the place that is mine. But look at you now. On your back for me. Touching that pussy like you need to prove you still know who it belongs to. Say it.”

“It belongs to you...” I whispered.

“Louder!”

“It belongs to you, Dante.”

He groaned low in his throat and stroked faster. His hand twisted a little at the top of each stroke and his hips pushed forward into his fist.

I could see how hard he was.

The head of his cock was shiny and dark.

He was close but he was holding back, making me watch him while I touched myself.

“You are mine to break and mine to put back together.” he said. “You cry for me. You beg for me. You cum for me. And when you are done you will still be mine. No other man gets this. No other man gets to see you like this. Only me. You are a finished woman without me. You know that. Say it!"

“I am a finished woman without you..” I said, and my voice was shaking.

My fingers moved faster.

The pressure built low in my stomach and spread down my legs, and my thighs started to tremble.

I kept my eyes on him even though it was hard.

He looked beautiful and cruel at the same time, leaning against the car with the phone recording and his hand working his cock in long hard strokes.

Every time his fist reached the tip he squeezed a little tighter before sliding back down.

“Cum.” he said. “Cum for the camera. Cum so I can watch it later and remember how you looked when you finally understood your place. Cum while I stroke my cock for you. Let me see that pretty face when you fall apart.”

The orgasm hit hard.

My back arched off the ground and my fingers stayed pressed against my clit as the waves rolled through me.

I cried out his name and the sound felt torn out of me.

My whole body shook and my legs closed around my own hand.

For a few seconds I could not see anything clearly and the night sky blurred above me.

I kept rubbing through it until the shaking slowed and my body went soft against the cold ground.

When I finally opened my eyes he was gone.

The car was still there.

The phone was still on the hood, propped up, the red light still blinking.

He had left it recording.

I lay there for a moment, breathing hard, the cool air drying the sweat on my skin and the wetness between my legs.

I sighed heavily and a small smile pulled at my mouth.

This was his way of forgiving me.

He had taken what he needed, left the proof, and walked away, and he would come back.

He always did.

The thought filled my chest with a quiet shaky happiness.

I was still his.

He had shown me that in the only language he knew how to speak when he was angry...I did not need soft words.

I needed this, the proof that he still wanted me enough to make me do this for him.

I stood up on unsteady legs and walked over to the car, my knees felt weak.

I reached for the phone to stop the recording when a message notification sat at the top.

The name of the sender was Lydia.

My hand froze as the name hit me like a cold wave.

Lydia.

The same name that had been circling in my head all night.

I had never searched his phone before because I had never needed to.

But the name was right there and my fingers moved before I could stop them.

Quickly, I opened the message and read through.

It said:

*THE MONEY ISN'T ENOUGH, DANTE.... KEENAN WANTS HIS FATHER. HE NEEDS YOU. PLEASE COME BACK.*

I read it once.

Then again.

Then again.

The words did not change.

The screen started to blur and my eyes burned as one question kept slamming into the front of my mind over and over until it was the only thing I could hear.

Does Dante have a child?