I hold her eyes when I say firmly, “For her to die.”
She swallows, then nods. “I am so very sorry that happened to you.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and wipe away a tear sliding down her face.
“Don’t be. My dad found the best counselors, and I’m fine. Yes, I hate thinking about it, and I hate the woman even more, and sometimes I still have dreams, but I don’t let what happened affect me. I don’t give her that power. She had the power for way too long, and I refuse to give her more of it.”
“I hate her, too. I hate that you didn’t have a mom that loved you the way she was supposed to.” She looks to the side, then brings her watery gaze back to me. Her voice is a bare whisper when she says, “I can’t wait for her to die too.”
I smile sadly at her, then lift her up so she’s sitting sideways on my lap. I tuck her head against my shoulder and lazily run my fingers against her naked back.
“How long have you been into exhibitionism?” she asks, running her fingers absently through the short hairs on my stomach.
“I’ve always been into it.”
I know where this is leading, and I don’t know what to tell her, because I don’t know the answer.
“Do you…” Her fingers stop moving at the same time she stops talking, then they both start again. “Do you think what happened to you as a kid has anything to do with that?”
“To be honest, I have no clue. I don’t want to think that she influenced my life in any way, but I can’t say for sure. When I’m with someone and someone else is watching, I don’t think about the past. I don’t think about the men watching me as a kid. When I think about those men getting off on what someone was doing to me, it makes me sick and rage fills me. I’m not some sick person with mommy issues, trying to still please her as an adult. All I feel is hatred for her. But now, as an adult, with other adults in the room, I get hard knowing others enjoy what my partner and I are doing. I like showing others what I have. It’s hard to explain, but having power over giving pleasure to another adult is a huge turn-on for me.”
She’s quiet when I’m done talking, I’m sure analyzing my words. I’ve thought over my need to have people watch while I have sex and the need to show off my lover many times. I’ve even talked with a counselor about it. He told me that, although it’s not common practice for people to have that need, the fantasy of being watched is more common than people think. However, when I was younger and first experimenting with my need, my case was a more extreme one because I didn’t care where I was. Hell, I could be in the middle of the mall and want to find a willing partner and fuck her in the food court. I had to learn to curb my appetite for that, and I now have control over it.
“I like it,” Willow says out of the blue.
I smile and kiss the top of her head as I tweak one of her nipples. I’m glad we’ve moved on from talking about my mother. She has no place in my life anymore. Hasn’t for a long time. The bitch can rot in hell while I smile and pinky wave at her. Besides my father, and the couple times I’ve spoken with my friends about her, I never bring her up.
“I know you do.”
My hand moves down her flat stomach until it rest over her pubic bone. Her breath hitches, and I love the sound. My dick starts growing against her hip, and I know she feels it when she shifts away slightly to give it room to expand.
“I never thought I would be into something like that, but like you said, there’s… just something exhilarating about knowing you have the power to make others feel good.”
This woman totally understands me.
With her still in my arms, I swivel my hips around and touch my feet to the floor. Bridal style, I lift her from the bed. Her arms go around my neck, holding on tight. I fucking love the feel of her in my arms.
“Where are we going?” she questions against my neck.
“I wanna fuck you in the shower.”
She moans and licks up the side of my neck, sending shivers of fucking delight over my body.
The night started out great, and then turned intense. I’m about to end it on an explosion.