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Chapter 10
"What exactly do you want me to do to help you?" Lu Yao really didn't want to keep wasting time with this scoundrel. She also knew she couldn't outlast him in a battle of endurance. The only reason she'd dragged it out for over an hour was that she didn't want to cave in too quickly. But sitting on that little stool felt like torture; every passing second stretched unbearably. Her child was still at home waiting for her. In the end, she could not outlast Redhead. She stood, humiliated and furious, and demanded to know precisely how he wanted her to help.
"Relax, Lu the Beauty. We're in a hospital I won't make you do anything too extreme," Redhead said, a smug, sly smile tugging at his lips when he saw she had finally broken. "Just pull your pants down under your butt and straddle my cock. Let me fuck that little pussy of yours for a bit and it'll be fine."
"You !" She didn't want to acknowledge even a word of his filth. Before, whenever he said such things, she pretended not to hear. But this time he went too far, and she nearly grabbed the stool behind her to smash him. Pointing at him, eyes blazing, she snapped, "If you want my help, say so properly. If not, I'm leaving right now. Don't waste my time!"
"Hahaha, I'm kidding why so angry?" he said quickly, plastering on a smile. "My demand isn't high at all. Just use your hand and stroke me until I finish."
"Sick," she hissed through clenched teeth at his arrogant, gleeful face. She went to the bathroom, grabbed the towel she had set to cool earlier, returned to his bedside, and prepared to wrap him with it to stroke him.
"Hey, hey using a towel doesn't feel good. Just use your hand directly what's the point of wrapping it?" He darted out the complaint, then muttered, "You're not some innocent maiden. Why pretend to be so prim?"
His taunt made her jaw ache with anger. Still, to end this ordeal sooner, she smothered her humiliation, wrapped the towel around his thick, rigid shaft, and began to stroke up and down.
It wasn't her first time touching him through a towel but it was different now. Before, it had been during "wiping his body," which felt less obscene. This, now helping him in this filthy way burned her with shame and awkwardness. Her hand trembled despite herself. Fine beads of sweat broke along her hairline from the strain of her nerves.
"Don't be so nervous," he said. "Here, I'll teach you." He sat up and guided her small hand with his left, moving it in a steady rhythm. "Just like this rhythmically up and down. Try both hands together; I might finish faster."
Face burning, she followed his movement, eyes refusing to look at her hand. She tried to think of anything else to scatter her focus, but his obscene whispering kept shattering any concentration.
"How is it, Lu the Beauty? Isn't my cock hard? Do you like my big cock? Don't you want it inside your tight little pussy, pounding you hard?" he chattered relentlessly at her ear as he guided her rhythm, undeterred by her silence.
"Lu the Beauty, do you feel anything yet, stroking my cock? Is your little pussy wet? Let me see it," he leered, eyes slipping to the space between her legs. Feeling the predatory filth in his gaze, she clamped her thighs together, turning her head away, refusing to meet his eyes.
"A-are you almost done?" Ten minutes ticked by. Her hand already ached, and still he showed no sign of finishing. Aside from pausing for a cigarette, he kept on and on, muttering filthy things. She ground her teeth, refusing to let the effort go to waste, and continued, stroking relentlessly.
"Hahaha, we're not even close. My big cock is strong can fuck for over an hour. You think I'd finish after just a bit of this?" His smug laughter made her stomach twist.
"C-could you hurry a little? My hand is sore," she pleaded, releasing one hand briefly to flex her fingers but keeping the other working. "If you don't get on with it, I I'll stop helping."
"If you want me to finish quicker, fine. Like I told you the towel ruins the sensation. Take it off and grip me directly; maybe I'll come faster," he said, prying the towel away and tossing it aside. He guided her bare hand around him. "There. Doesn't it feel better without the towel?"
The heat of him scorched her palm; her heart trembled. To finish this sooner, she tried not to think about the fact that her skin now touched his indecent flesh, letting him guide her pace as she stroked.
As she kept the rhythm, his thickness grew even harder, like blazing iron in her grip. Slickness from the crown smeared over her skin, and nausea surged in her chest at the sticky warmth.
"A-are you close yet?" Seven or eight more minutes crawled by. He had let go of her hand and sprawled back, smoking leisurely, eyes glued to her movements. At her question, he smiled lazily. "Don't rush. Not even close. I don't feel the urge at all."
"Do you want me to finish fast?" he added, eyes narrowing as a thought lit up. He captured her hand again, moving it more quickly up and down. He lowered his voice, eyes locked on her flushed face. "If you stimulate me just a little, I'll finish a lot faster."
"H-how?" Her cheeks burned with humiliation, but exhaustion dulled her resistance. Nearly twenty minutes of incessant stroking had left her forearm and wrist aching terribly. She swallowed and asked despite herself.
"There are many ways," he said. "Use your mouth to lick my cock. Or let me touch your tits and pussy. Or let my cock slide inside and fuck you for a bit. Very stimulating." As he spoke, his free hand landed on her thigh over the long skirt, fingers creeping upward toward the heat between her legs.
"N-no!" At his touch, her body flinched, and she shoved his hand away, glaring. "If you dare touch me again, our agreement is void!"
"Fine, fine, I won't touch you," he said with a mock-innocent sigh. "See? I'm even giving you ideas, and you refuse them all. Then keep stroking me; if I can't finish, you can't leave. Otherwise, don't bother coming again."
"You " She had released him when she pushed his hand away. He pointed at himself with a lazy grin. "If you don't hurry, that little bit of feeling I had will vanish."
"None of those things are possible," she said, voice shaking. "I really have no strength left in my hands. Please… please let me go. Stop torturing me. Why must you do this? What do you gain? Tell me what will make you let me go? What will make you stop?" The words burst out, the dam of her patience collapsing. Tears welled up hot, stinging. She choked back sobs, trembling as she demanded answers.
"Don't twist it," he said coolly. "When have I not 'let you go'? Everything you've done you agreed to it, didn't you? From the moment you came to negotiate about your husband beating me every step was your agreement. Now suddenly I'm the one not letting you go?"
"If you don't want to do it, you can leave right now," he added, voice turning cold. "You think I can physically stop you like this? I never planned to settle after your husband hurt me. You begged me. So what's with the tears? Who are they for?"
"You…" His mocking tone cut sharp. She wanted to bolt but the thought of the fallout if she ran made her clench her jaw and stay. "What do you actually want?"
"Listen to you 'what do I want.' I should be asking what you want," he said, lighting another cigarette and then lounging back again, smiling. "We agreed you'd wait until I slept before leaving. You wanted to change it; I didn't object. We negotiated you'd help me finish first your own words. And now? You ask what I want?"
"But you… you can't finish," she muttered, knowing she had no firm ground and unable to say what she truly meant. After a pause, she continued, "Those other things are impossible. Can't you find some other way to finish quickly?"
"Other ways…" He took a long drag, that sinister smile blooming again. He exhaled a smoke ring. "There are other ways depends on whether you'll cooperate."
"W-what way?" The look on his face made her skin prickle. He was up to something.
"If you want a man to finish quickly, you'll have to give something," he said, stubbing out the cigarette and sitting up. His eyes gleamed as he spoke. "Unbutton your blouse let me look at your big tits. Keep stroking me while you do it, and say some dirty things to match. Maybe I'll finish right away."
"No," she said instantly, adamant. His grin widened as he caught her hand and placed it back on his rigid shaft, and his other hand rose toward the buttons at her chest. "If you want me to finish early so you can go, you'll have to put in a little something. It's only letting me look at your tits it's not like a piece of you will fall off. What are you so tense about?"
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