“D’you hate me?” I asked.His laugh was barely there.“How could I hate you? You’re – clean.”“I’m not. I’m a mess. Isn’t it weird ...hat I called you?” I laughed a small insincere laugh. “Isn’t this whole thing inappropriate?”“Is it?” He didn’t sound like he particularly cared. He tilted his head just enough to look at me. “So why’d you call me, Taylor?”God, the way he said my name. From him it sounded special, loaded, like it was full of something he wanted. I met his gaze. The streetlight hue. Now it was my turn to play.“John, have you ever been the one to be teased, and made to cum, over and over?”His eyes were bugging out, and he was sweating.“Did I forget to mention John, that I enjoy BDSM?”His head bobbed up and down.“John, do you know what a cock ring is? Do you know what they're used for? I know you do.”“Do you know what else I have for you baby? Nipple clips! I want you to know how it feels when my nipples are being pinched.”Teasing him, I pushed my breast around his face. I. More

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