Sloth Extra #3

Re-read last time's addition, if you want a refresher. It starts here:
CHAPTER FIVEKELLAN
I’m such a fucking liar.I think the thing about it that bothers me most is how weak it makes me feel. I sigh and start to count them. One: I can’t cook. That time, I started out on the right course. Would she believe me if I told her I was a pretty damn good cook? I’m not sure why I asked. It doesn’t matter if she’d believe me, because I am. I’m a great motherfucking cook. I cooked for my sisters and my brother, Lyon, for years. Two: chocolate ice cream. Why did I tell that tall tale? Having her in my house did something weird to me. Made me uneasy. As much as I want her here so I can fuck myself into oblivion, I caan’t stand anyone close. Everything about me is… It’s forbidden. So many reasons. I rub my temples as I stare up at the canopy.Lie three: telling her I vacated the master bedroom so dealers-in-training could stay here. I close my eyes and I can feel my hand against the glass wall out in front of me. I can feel the heat of my cell phone pressed against my ear. I can hear the awful sound that came out of my throat that day. The day I found out. I moved out of this room because I couldn’t stand to see the window anymore. Because, after that moment two months ago, I dismissed my submissive-in-residence, Gina, without a single word and told myself she’d be the very last.There were more fallacies. Implying I live at the frat house sometimes. Intentionally omitting that if she moves here with me, she’ll spend most of her time cuffed or tied spread-eagle in the middle of this bed. On weekends, she’ll watch the sun rise and go down as she hangs here, getting fucked as many times as I need her. I’m not finished with this. I just…can’t be. It’s my addiction. I swing my legs off the side of the bed and step onto the thick rug, walk over to the hook on the door, and grab my black silk robe. I try the balcony outside the library, but despite its size, there’s not enough room. I feel pinned in. Edgy. It’s a problem I have often.I go downstairs and make a kale shake. Drink it down and fuck with my phone. I’m still wired, so it’s the workout room. I run for an hour before my heart starts beating too hard, then hop off, pace around, lift some weights, and hit the elliptical for forty.I’m climbing up the stairs when I give in. They say willpower is finite, and tonight, I’ve used up all of mine. Not going after Cleo and giving her the whipping that she earned. Not calling one of the other girls on my list of dirty fucks. I pull up the text feature first, but I know as soon as I see it that I’m not going to text Cleo. I need to hear her voice.I punch her number in and sit at the top of the stairs, looking down on the foyer: a dark cavern, sparkled and polished—all for naught. No one who comes here cares about those sorts of things. No one but me. I like order.Cleo lets it ring so many times, I’m surprised when the ringing gives way to silence. A little rush jolts through my body when I realize she’s breathing into the phone. “Cleo.” It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, she sounds as young as she is. “Yes—it’s me.”I curl my fingers around the phone, remembering the sweet scent of her pussy. My dick hardens, and as it does, my balls draw up and ache. I try to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. My hand drifts down and wraps around the thick head of my dick. I tug and grin, imagining how I’m going to discipline Miss Cleo when I get another chance. “What do you have to say for yourself?” I ask.I know she’s got something else to say to me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have answered my phone call. I wait a minute or so, stroking my dick through the opening of my robe. Finally she says, “What do you have to say for yourself? You made me feel cornered and scared. It’s not my fault your balls had to pay the price.”I laugh, a low hoot, surprising myself. “Is that right?”“Yeah. That’s right. I don’t like you, Kellan Walsh. I don’t want to talk to you again.”“Tell me—how does your pussy feel? My cock is wounded. Even now, as it salutes her, it feels…misunderstood. Discarded.”“Are you really trying to sexy talk me after what happened today?”“No trying. I am. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”“Is that a threat?” Her voice is high, like she really thinks it might be.“Cleo. Cleo, Cleo… We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, I’m afraid. If you think I would hurt you, I’m forced to wonder if you’re fanaticizing. I’d never hurt a woman who didn’t beg for it.”“What does that mean?” she whispers.“Have you ever been whipped, Cleo?”“No.” Her voice is still a whisper.“Have you ever had your cunt spanked?”“No.”“Ever been bound?”She hesitates. “You have.” My pulse quickens. “Not really. An old boyfriend tried to bind me to the bed posts with one of his dress ties.”“What did you think of it?” My throat is so dry, the words stick a little.“It was fun enough, I guess, but it wasn’t very effective. I got out pretty easily.”“Houdini, are you?”“I guess so.” Another pause. “Kellan, can I go now? I’m sorry I offended your dick or whatever it is you said. I kicked you and ran because I was scared. Thank you for not following me, and for not threatening me or being any weirder. You know I enjoyed…” She fumbles for the words.I stroke my dick. “You enjoyed my mouth on your pussy?”“Yes,” she murmurs. “If you must put it that way.”“My tongue in your slit? My lips on your clit? You’re right—I know that you enjoyed it. I’d like to do it again.”“Not happening.”“What will it take? How many bricks?”“You would pay me like a prostitute, with marijuana?”“I’d make an exchange involving that, yes.” I add, “Don’t say it on the phone, Cleo.”“And you would get what?” She scoffs. “My body?” “Yes.”I picture her lying in her bed, shirtless with her nipples hard, curling a phone cord around her finger thoughtfully. “And I would get….a bunch of free weed?”“That’s right. We’d divide the profits. Sixty percent for you, and forty for me.”“That doesn’t sound so great for me.” I imagine her scrunching her nose.“The product would be freeto you.”She sighs. “Thereby making me a whore.”“My whore. I treat my whores better than most men treat their wives. I should add…you would get my body, too.”She giggles. I arch a brow as I stroke my aching dick. “What’s so funny, Cleo?”“I just can’t believe I’m talking about this. With you of all people.”I lean back against the wall and lift my legs up onto the second-story floor. I raise my knees and spread my legs slightly. “Judging me again for my involvement in the SGA, I see.”She snorts. “You’re an uptight, rule-following jerk—or so I thought.”“First impressions aren’t always right.” In my case, almost every one of them is wrong. I hear her yawn. “I never thought I’d be discussing any of this with you. Kellan Walsh. I can’t believe you called me after I kicked you in the balls.”“I didn’t call to chat.” I’m going for stern, but I feel like I can hear a smile through the phone line when she says, “What did you call to do?”I imagine her pussy, spread open; pink and dripping. “I wanted to give you one more chance to work with me. To live with me. To be fucked by me.”“Your arrogance astonishes me, Mr. Walsh.” I try to analyze her voice and find it curious. Soft and feminine and definitively curious, despite her saying I scared her.She wants me. Just like I want her.“Let me make you come—right now. With just my words. When I do, you’ll agree to my proposal.”
* This is where the new material begins. Not safe for work, church, or the subway. LOL.
CLEO
Damnit, but his voice is really sexy. It’s even sexier over the phone than it is in person. He’s got a bad-sounding voice. It sounds like sin. It’s the kind of voice that pervert hypnotists use…right before they tell you to strip off all your clothes.Just a voice. Not a person. That’s what I tell myself.“Where are you, Cleo?” it purrs. “Tell me, are you in your bed?”“Yes.” I’ve got a soft, fleece blanket tucked around me, and I’m looking up at the glow stars on my ceiling.“Tell me what you’re wearing,” he instructs.I hesitate while my heart pounds, and in between my legs, I start feeling warm and kind of…heavy.Should I lie?I open my mouth, and the truth tumbles out. “Just a t-shirt.”“Take it off for me, Cleo.” My hand, between my legs, freezes, as I argue with myself over what to do. I would probably be masturbating even if I wasn’t on the phone with him, so I’m not doing this for him. I’m just…feeling sexy right now. Yeah. And so what? He might be crazy, and a total ass, but I’m attracted to him. So what if I use his deep voice to get myself off? I can do this if I want to. “Are you naked, Cleo?”“Yes,” I lie. “I’m naked.”“You’re not naked. Take your shirt off, Cleo. Take it off now, or I’ll come and do it for you.”My eyes widen, and I’m not sure if I should laugh or cream my panties. “You’re good, Walsh.”“That’s Master Walsh to you. Pull your shirt over your head and cup your breasts, Cleo.”I put the phone down, and yeah, I actually do it. I pull my shirt over my head, and my hair falls around my shoulders. The cool stream of air from my box fan makes my nipples harden. I sink down into the covers, holding the phone to my ear like a sixth grade girl talking past curfew on a school night. “What do the sheets feel like against your skin?” his voice rumbles.I stroke my hand down the inside of my thigh. “It’s not a sheet. It’s fleece.”He purrs, just like a tiger. “So it’s soft.”“It is.”“Is it cold in your room?”“Now that I’m naked it is.” Reality slices through my fantasy, sending a pulse of fear through me, making me feel vulnerable, like tomorrow I’m going to find a recording of our conversation shared all around the campus web forums. “Are your nipples hard?”I bite my lip. “I’m not telling until I know something about you.”“What do you want to know?” My stomach twists a little. I still can’t believe I’m doing this with him. I could stop right now, but…I can’t seem to say the words. In fact, I hear myself ask him, “What are you wearing?”“A robe.”“What color is it?” I whisper. “Black.”My cheeks heat up as I imagine his glorious body draped in a black robe. How it would hang off his huge, ripped shoulders. If I was there, I could part it and see his eight-pack…and his happy trail. “I’m sitting at the top of the stairs, in a dark house, but I think I’ll get up and go back to your room now. Getting up…” I hear the sound of fabric swishing, followed by his deliciously low voice. “My cock is so hard, it’s bouncing off my abs as I walk. I’ve got my hand around the head of it. Put your hand between your legs, Cleo.”With a picture of his perfect cock inside my head, I slide my hand back down between my thighs. “Touch yourself,” he orders. “Rub your fingertips over your clit—lightly—and then stroke down. Nudge your finger in between your lips so you can feel how soft you are. So warm and wet, aren’t you? Glide your fingers through your wetness.”My fingertip circles my clit, almost against my will. “Good girl. Don’t be embarrassed. You’re fucking sexy, naked with your fingers in your pussy. My cock is aching for that tight, hot pussy. Slide one finger down, and push a finger into yourself. It feels like velvet inside, doesn’t it, Cleo? Push in—all the way. Do you like that?”God—for shame. I push my finger up inside myself, and it’s all I can do to swallow back a moan. “Tell me, Cleo—do you like to be finger-fucked?”Heat sweeps through me, making my whole body tingle with sweat.“Yes,” I whisper. “Clench around your finger. Clamp down with your pussy. Are you doing that?”I nod.“Now drag your finger out. Not fast. I want you to move slow.”Damn me, I’m doing what he says. “You’re empty now. All wet with no cock inside,” his low voice whispers. “Push your finger back into your cunt. Then slide it out. I want you to finger fuck yourself. Like I would do if I was there.“My robe is coming off, Cleo. I just hung it on the door, and I’m walking to my— to your bed. I’m getting up on it now, Cleo. I’m naked. Can you see my chest and shoulders? I’m stroking my cock. Squeezing it. It’s really fucking hard. Makes me even harder.” I rub circles around my clit, tensing my legs. “Doesn’t it…hurt?”“I’m sore, but you didn’t break it, Cleo. It’s got no problem standing up for you.”I picture it standing at attention, long and thick and striped with veins. His hand around it, stroking as his balls bounce underneath.“Can you stroke your clit with your thumb while you slide another finger inside? I want you to feel full, so when you close your eyes and imagine my cock, you can almost feel it. Almost.” He laughs, a low, hoarse sound that turns me on even more. “Are your fingers in your pussy, Cleo?”I’ve been holding back a little, but now I push two fingers in and spread my legs a little. My clit throbs. “I’m imagining your mouth around my cock. My cock down your soft throat. You give a good blow job. I’m thrusting in and out of your mouth, pushing myself down your throat, because I’m getting close. “Do you have a vibrator?”I can’t speak, so I just swallow. I lie still for a minute, with my fingers in my pussy and my thumb stroking my swollen clit. Then I reach over to my nightstand drawer and pull my little bullet out.“I trust you’ve got your vibrator in hand. Blow on it a couple times. Get it nice and warm, and then position it right over your clit. You’re throbbing, aren’t you Cleo? I can smell how wet you are.“I’m wet, too. I’m so fucking hard for you, I’m leaking. I’m gonna stroke it down and coat the top part of my cock. I’m so hard it almost hurts. My balls are drawing up, and that hurts, Cleo. That’s your fault. But it’s a good hurt.”I drag my finger up, through my pussy lips, and swirl it over my clit. I’m starting to pant, so I angle the phone away from my mouth. “Turn on your vibrator. If you pulled your fingers out of your pussy, I want you to stuff them back in, nice and deep. Unless you have a dildo. Do you have a dildo?”“No,” I rasp.“Stuff yourself. Two fingers. Three. As many as you can fit. Shove in as far as you can go and picture my cock buried deep inside you. I’m thrusting in and out of you. I’m dragging my tongue over your clit. Rub the vibrator over yourself and feel my tongue. It’s soft and hot. I’m teasing you. I’m lapping down around your cunt. Licking back up to your clit, so everything is soft and slick.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Work my fingers in and out of myself. Quicken the tempo on my clit.“I’m thrusting into you. Slamming your hips into my hips so I can sink myself so fucking deep. You spread your legs as far as they can go so you can take in more of me. Till I’m impalingyou.”“Yes,” I pant. I don’t mean to. I just…can’t help myself.“I’m coming now, Cleo.” I hear a little groan—and that’s all it takes for me.I roll over the edge with a little gasp, and I hear Kellan’s chuckle.“Did you come, Cleo?”I shut my eyes and breathe as he says, “I got myself off imagining that pussy. This is the last time I’m going to imagine it.”I shake my head and curl over on my side, hugging myself as all the tingles work themselves out of me. “You’re wrong,” I tell him. “I didn’t come.”Another laugh. “I heard you, Cleo. I heard you panting, and I know you came.”“That’s not true.” I can’t believe I did that. Holy shit.
“Tomorrow, Cleo. Pack your bags. I’m bringing you home with me tomorrow.”

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I'm already working on the material for Friday. I don't want to be late again. For what it's worth, I was late for this in part b/c I wrote a lot of the end of this. :)