I Let Him Watch Everything He Lost When He Left Me
There’s an armchair at the back of the set, out of the reach of the lights, and you’ve been sitting in it for half an hour. You haven’t moved. You haven’t said a word. I, on the other hand, have spent all that time on my knees on the concrete floor, tied to an iron column, with my legs spread wide open, my cunt wet and gleaming under the light, my tits hanging heavy forward and my nipples so hard they hurt. And I can’t stop searching for you with my eyes.
I wanted you to come. I asked the producer to let you in. Let him watch, I told her. Let him watch until his cock breaks in his pants.
A few months ago I was something else. I was the proper girlfriend you were going to marry, the one who said “not tonight” more times than she said “yes,” the one who covered herself with the sheet up to her neck when you wanted to eat me out. You wanted me like that: quiet, clean, yours. And when you got tired of waiting for me to stop being afraid of your cock, you left. No yelling. Just a suitcase and a slammed door.
Look at me now.
Renata is at my side, standing, holding the leash clipped to my collar. She’s the actress I share the scene with: tall, red-haired, with the calm of a pro I still don’t have. She tugs the leash just enough to force me to lift my chin and look at the camera. The operator adjusts the frame, counts backward with his fingers, and the whole room falls silent.
—Ready? —Renata asks quietly, just for me.
—Ready —I answer.
But before the take starts I turn my head again toward the back. Toward you. And there you are, elbows on your knees and your jaw clenched so hard the muscle in your temple stands out. You’re looking at me with something I can’t tell if it’s hate or desire. Probably both at once. That is exactly what I came here for.
***
The first scene is simple, almost soft for what comes later. Renata unhooks me from the column and leads me on all fours to the center of the set, where there’s a padded bench under a top light. The crew move around with cables and reflectors, indifferent to my nakedness, and that indifference turns me on more than any look could. I’m not a person to them. I’m a shot that needs to be lit properly. I’m a cunt and a mouth that have to be framed well.
She makes me lie on my back on the bench. Her hands travel over my stomach, my breasts, my neck, slowly and deliberately for the camera. She pinches my nipples until they turn purple and I gasp. She opens my legs with her knee and leaves them apart, my thighs trembling, my cunt open to the light. I know you’re measuring every inch she touches. I know you’re remembering all the times I pulled your hand away from my body because I was sleepy, because I had a headache, because I was embarrassed for you to put your fingers in me.
Renata kisses the inside of my thigh, climbs with her tongue very slowly, and when she reaches my slit she blows on it before licking me from bottom to top, long and flat, like someone tasting something for the first time. I arch my back and let out a moan I’m not faking. I learned long ago not to fake it. Her tongue lingers on my clit, circles it, presses it with her lips, sucks it. A choked “fuck” slips out of me.
—Chin higher —the operator says—. Let’s see her face.
I lift my head and, in the same movement, find you again. Your right hand is clenched in a fist on your knee. Good. I want it to hurt. I want every moan I make to be a bill for everything you didn’t give me.
When two of Renata’s fingers sink into me in one thrust, I really moan, and the sound bounces off the bare walls of the set. She curves them inside, finds the exact spot, and when she does she starts pumping me while she keeps sucking my clit without mercy. I’m so wet you can hear it. An obscene, filthy splash, amplified by the crew’s silence. Someone clears their throat. You shift in the chair, uncomfortable, and for the first time in half an hour you look away. Only for a second. Then you look back, because you can’t not look. That’s why I invited you.
Renata slips in a third finger and I spread my legs wider, shameless, pushing my hip against her face. I come like that, with her tongue on me and her fingers inside me, a short dirty orgasm that leaves my thighs shaking and a string of spit hanging from my chin. She stands and licks her fingers one by one, looking at the camera. Looking at you.
***
The operator signals and the scene changes. Renata helps me up and positions me standing against a scaffolding structure they’ve set up on the left side. They strap my wrists to the metal bar over my head and spread my feet with a rigid bar between my ankles. I’m left completely exposed, stretched out, with no way to close myself or hide. My cunt is dripping down the insides of my thighs and I can’t even bring my legs together to pretend otherwise. That’s what I want.
The first of the male actors appears. He’s a man I hadn’t seen before the shoot, broad-shouldered, calm, with the confidence of someone who does this every day. He plants himself in front of me, naked, already hard, his cock thick and pointing at my stomach. It’s bigger than yours. Much bigger. I don’t think it out of revenge, I think it because it’s a fact, and I know you’re thinking it too. He waits for the cue. The operator nods.
What comes next I feel and let write itself across my face, because I know the close-up goes straight to you. The actor grabs my hips, positions himself between my open legs, and runs the head of his cock over the lips of my cunt a couple of times, soaking up what Renata left in me. Then he pushes. In one go, all the way in, to the hilt. I throw my head back and let out a long groan that has nothing acted about it, a rough “aah” that rips out of my throat when I feel myself being opened from inside. Renata, behind me, holds me by the hips and murmurs in my ear.
—Your ex can’t take his eyes off you —she says, amused—. He’s suffering. You can see the bulge from here.
—Good —I say through my teeth—. Let him suffer. Let it swell up and let him not be able to touch it.
And you are suffering. I can see it. Your breathing is faster and your back is rigid against the chair. You’ve brought one hand to your thigh, near your crotch, and left it there, halfway between desire and the shame of wanting me in front of all these people. Go on, I think, touch your cock. No one’s going to stop you. You’re just not going to get to put it in me.
The man sets a rhythm and I let myself go with it. Every thrust shoves me against the restraints, makes my tits bounce, and the pull on my wrists wrings a new sound out of me every time. He fucks me slowly at first, almost pulling out completely and sliding back in with calm precision so the camera can catch it well, and then he speeds up, slamming my hips against the scaffolding with a dry crack that echoes through the room. The wet slapping of his cock going in and out mixes with my moans and with Renata’s breathing behind me, as she pinches my nipples in time with the thrusts.
—Say it —Renata whispers—. For him. Let him hear you.
—Fuck me harder —I pant, looking to the back, searching for you—. Deeper. Break me.
The actor obeys. He grips one thigh, lifts it, opens me even wider, and starts pumping me with a force that makes me see lights. I don’t come yet, but I’m close, and I play with it, I hold it back, I let it grow, clench my cunt around his cock to feel every inch, because I know the longer it lasts the more unbearable it will be for you.
***
Renata steps away for a moment and comes back with a thin leather whip. It’s not part of my punishment: it’s part of my pleasure, though you never understood the difference. When the first lash cuts across my back, I don’t scream in pain. I moan. The line of fire it leaves on my skin connects straight to my filled cunt, to the cock still pumping me, and my whole body contracts at once. The second actor, who has come in on my left without my noticing, takes advantage of that instant to grab my hair and make me open my mouth.
He drives his cock all the way in without warning. My eyes fill with water, I gag, and he lingers there for a second, enjoying my throat closing around the tip, before pulling out and shoving back in. Now I’m two things at once. A mouth and a cunt, both full, fucked from the front and the back, trapped between two men I don’t know while a red-haired woman marks my back with a whip and an entire room records it. Spit runs down my chin, drips onto my tits. The mixture of cum and my juices streams down my thighs every time the man behind me pulls out to the tip. And at the back, always at the back, you.
I think about the times you asked for a threesome and I made a face of disgust. The times you asked me to suck your cock and I told you it made me gag, that I didn’t like it, that it was dirty. The times you asked me, afraid of offending me, whether I had ever fantasized about anything more, and I told you no, that this was fine, that sex was for loving each other. I was lying. I was lying because the girl I was then was terrified of the woman I had inside me. You didn’t kill that woman. You only locked her up for a while. And look what happens when I finally let her out. Look how she sucks cock. Look how she gets fucked. Look how she swallows all the way down what she denied you.
The whip comes down again. The actor in front holds my head with both hands and starts fucking my mouth to his rhythm, not letting me breathe between thrusts. The man behind digs his nails into my hips and speeds up. I come with my back burning, my mouth occupied and my cunt clenching around an unfamiliar cock, a long orgasm that shakes me whole, and my cry comes out muffled, turned into a dull moan that makes the man in front of me tremble. He comes in my mouth at the same time, a hot spurt filling my tongue and forcing me to swallow. A thread escapes from the corner of my mouth. The one behind me pulls out, grabs his cock, and comes over my ass and across my marked back, splattering my skin opened by the whip.
The operator comes closer with the camera to capture the moment. Cum sliding down my back, my thighs, my chin. I know what face I’m making. It’s the face of a happy whore, of a well-fucked woman, a face you never got to see me make, because I never let you. That is my cruelest revenge: not that I get fucked in front of you, but that you finally see what you missed. Everything you could have done to me and never did because I never let you.
***
There’s a technical break. They change a flickering light, someone offers me water with a straw and I drink without releasing the restraints, still tied, still open, still dripping cum down my thighs. My body is trembling, but it’s a good kind of trembling, the kind a machine gets when it has finally found its speed. Renata wipes the sweat from my forehead with a towel and smiles at me.
—Can you take another one? —she asks.
—I can take as many as you need —I tell her, and I look at you when I say it.
Because this is for you. Every scene, every strap, every cock in my mouth, every load on my back, every orgasm. I didn’t come back to this set for the money or for the thrill, though I have both. I came back because I wanted this exact image: me, free and undone under the lights, my mouth still shining with cum, and you, nailed to an armchair by your own pride, your cock hard inside your pants, unable to do anything but watch what you let go.
The last take is just Renata and me. They unhook me from the structure and leave me on my knees in front of her, seated in a chair with her legs open. The crew gathers around, the lights close in on the two of us, and I lean toward her without anyone needing to order me to.
Her cunt is wet, swollen, and smells like hot pussy. I run my tongue over it from bottom to top, the way she did to me before, and I hear her sigh. I part her lips with two fingers, find her clit with the tip of my tongue, and suck it slowly, hungry. She grabs my hair, not to pull me away but to press me closer, and pushes her hips against my face. I slip two fingers inside her and curl them while I keep sucking her clit, and her breathing breaks. My face gets covered in her, in her juices, my mouth, my nose, my chin.
As I please her with my mouth, I lift my gaze one last time over her thigh. You’re standing now. Your eyes are shining and your face is wrecked, your hand pressed against the bulge you can no longer hide, and for a moment I think you’re going to cross the set and make a scene that ruins the take. The producer watches you from the corner of her eye, ready to call security.
But you don’t. You don’t dare. You never dared anything with me, never fucked me the way I needed, never asked me twice, and that’s why we are where we are.
Renata comes with a long sigh, her thighs squeezing my head, her cunt clenching around my fingers. She takes my chin and forces me to look at the camera with her taste still on my lips, with her juices shining on my chin. The operator yells “cut,” and the room bursts into the ordinary murmur of people gathering cables and talking about the day’s work. The magic breaks. I’m a person again.
I cover myself with a robe, barefoot on the cold concrete, and walk toward the back. Toward you. For the first time all night I’m at your level, looking you in the eyes instead of searching for you from the floor.
—Why? —you ask, and your voice breaks.
I could give you a thousand answers. I could talk to you about the woman you locked away, about the fear I don’t have anymore, about everything I discovered when I stopped asking your permission to want it, about the cocks I’ve sucked and the ones I’ll suck without thinking of you. But none of those answers are the one you came to hear, and we both know it.
I step close until my mouth almost brushes your ear. I let you feel that I still smell of cum and someone else’s cunt.
—Because you wanted to watch me —I whisper—. All night. And at last I let you.
Then I turn around and go back to the set, where someone calls me to review the takes. I don’t look back. There’s no need anymore. I know you will, and I know that tonight you’re going to go home and jerk off thinking of me, cock in your hand and my face in your head. Like every night, from today on.