Chapter 22

DIMITRI

“Tell me what to do, Daddy.”

Anya’s words pull a growl from my throat before I rise from the desk and take the laptop with me to my bed. Placing it in the center, I lie down so Anya has a fuller view of me on her screen.

“Take off your shorts, Anya.” I slip into the tone I use with her when we are at the club. “Spread your legs for me. Show me how desperately you want me.”

She parts her lips in a smile, nodding eagerly. After pulling the laptop nearer, she shifts her body to the side, hooks her fingers in the waistband of her shorts, and drags the material down her legs.

The shorts get discarded, and she faces me again, spreading her legs and giving me a frontal view of her pink pussy. Her lips are already swollen and glistening with how wet and needy she is.

“Fuck…,” I groan, reaching my hand down to grab my cock.

Seemingly encouraged by my actions, she slips the straps of her tank top down her arms, freeing her full breasts. She touches her nipples and moans softly as she pinches the brown buds.

“You show me too,” she says through a moan, one hand now making its way between her legs. “Show me how hard you are for me.”

From my view, my erection is glaringly obvious, but I remind myself that she is seeing me almost straight on. Keeping my gaze on her, I roll onto my back, and her mouth opens before she bites her lower lip. Then I pull the front of my pants down and hook it under my shaft.

Anya’s hands work faster on her hard nubs when I squeeze my thick length in my hand. Two strokes of my cock are enough to make precum ooze out of its pink tip, and I swipe my thumb over it.

“That’s right, baby girl. Touch yourself,” I rasp, my body vibrating as it seeks more pleasure. “Touch your pussy like a good girl.”

She lets out a soft cry as her fingers tweak her clit, rubbing in circles. Her eyes close momentarily as she bucks against her hand, thrusting against her palm. “Oh…Dimitri,” she moans. “Stroke your cock, please. I want to see it.”

I oblige her, adjusting my laptop with my other hand to bring the device closer. Anya has a clear view of my cock as I please myself. Leaving the laptop, my hand moves to massage my big balls. “Fuck…fuck,” I grunt, thrusting into my fist while locking my eyes on Anya’s hands.

After she slips two fingers inside her glistening pussy, she moans and spreads her legs wide. “Oh…oh, fuck. Yes.” She cries loudly, seemingly unconcerned with how sensual they sound and who would hear them.

“Just like that, baby girl. Imagine I was there, with you, fucking you with my thick cock.”

She works her fingers in and out, her digits wetter with every stroke. Her other hand massages her tit, flicking the nipple with her thumb.

The noises we make bounce off the walls as we both chase our highs while watching each other, our eyes glued to the screen.

“Dimitri! Oh…oh…fuck,” Anya cries, her thighs stiffening and her fingers working faster.

“Use your thumb to rub your clit, baby girl. Follow Daddy’s orders,” I say, beating myself to the pace of her hands.

She complies, rubbing circles with her thumb. Soon, her whole body trembles, and the wet spot on her bedsheets grows.

The sounds of her fucking herself greet my ears, and I stroke faster, wanting to cum at the same time as her. When my balls tighten, my release unfolding itself from deep within, I grip my length tighter. “Cum for me,” I order in a gruff voice filled with pleasure. “Cum. ~Cum~.”

A scream so loud that it gets muffled by the network rips out of her as she cums, and my release hits me at the same time. My eyes see only black as spurts after spurts of cum spill from the tip of my cock, falling over my clothes and bedsheets.

My orgasm is deep, erasing all the worries of the day, and its intensity surprises me. My past hand jobs were never like this, so I suspect it has to do with us doing it on camera. It really was a fucking exotic feeling.

We both take time to climb down from the euphoria, me on my back and Anya shifting to look at the screen. Her skin is flushed, and her tits are out; she looks like breathtaking erotic art.

“Wow!” She exhales a breath. “That was…”

“Magnificent, wasn’t it?” I finish for her, putting my cock back in my pants when the door to my room opens abruptly.

“Dad—”

I jump from the bed, slamming the laptop closed with a thud and turning my back to Blake while I adjust my semihard member. “Yeah?” When he doesn’t respond immediately, I turn back around, fearing the worst.

Standing by the door, he is looking at the floor with wide eyes. His cheeks are pink when he finally manages to meet my gaze. “Were you watching porn? Seriously?”

He didn’t see her. ~Thank goodness~. I release a breath at the thought, but guilt forces me to avert my eyes. Clearing my throat, I sit on the bed and grab the laptop. “You’re back. Thank you for coming home early.”

Blake rolls his eyes and throws something at me that I am quick to catch. My fingers curl around a cool beer bottle from my favorite band, which I have been searching for the past few days after finishing the last of my stock.

“Found this. Your favorite,” Blake says, spinning on his heel and walking out.

The warmth that spreads through me because of Blake’s kind act only serves to ramp up my guilt. “Thanks, Blake.” I give him a genuine smile—the first in a long time—not that he can see it. ~Maybe our relationship is turning a corner~.

“Whatever.” He gives me the finger again, and then he disappears up the stairs.

~Guess not.~

Once his door slams shut, I breathe a sigh of relief and open my laptop again. Anya is gone from the screen, and bile rises in my throat.

Everyone at the club knows, Vanessa knows, Sage knows—how much longer can my dirty little secret remain a secret?