Irina's thighs clamp around my ears like the world's most erotic noise-canceling headphones. I've discovered there's no better alarm clock than waking up to a Russian woman climbing onto your face.
I slept like the dead last night. After weeks of soccer hell followed by yesterday's marathon cam session, my body finally surrendered to proper rest. I'm thanking whatever deity might be listening that I never have to play soccer again.
"Use more tongue, Matthew," Irina instructs from her perch above me. Her voice vibrates through her body and into mine.
I adjust my technique, trying to find the right rhythm. This is entirely new territory for me. Eating pussy wasn't covered in my limited sexual education, which consisted mostly of awkward health classes and whatever porn I could find online. Neither prepared me for the reality, the taste, the warmth, the way her body responds to different movements.
"Ladies, as you can see, he's still learning," Irina announces to her invisible audience. "But he's quite enthusiastic, wouldn't you agree?"
Her hand wraps around my cock, stroking with deliberate slowness. The dual sensations, her weight on my face, her fingers around me, make my head swim. It's torture of the most exquisite kind.
I can't see the stream this time, which is actually a relief. Yesterday's session was intense enough without watching myself fall apart on camera. Now I can focus entirely on the physical sensations without the added layer of performance anxiety.
"He's making such progress," Irina continues, her accent thickening as her breathing gets heavier. "Just yesterday, he told me he's never tried this."
She shifts slightly, guiding my attention to a specific spot that makes her thighs tense around my head. When I focus there, she rewards me by speeding up her hand for a few glorious strokes before returning to her painfully slow pace.
"That's it," she purrs. "Right there."
I'm learning her body like a musical instrument, trying different pressures and rhythms, noting what makes her breath catch or her grip tighten. There's power in this, even from my position beneath her. Each reaction I draw from her feels like a small victory.
"The tips are pouring in, darling," she says, her free hand tangling in my hair behind her. "They love watching you learn."
Her thighs quiver against my cheeks as I try a new approach, pushing my tongue deeper inside her. The sound she makes, a low, throaty moan, sends vibrations through my entire body.
"Ahhh," she gasps. "That's my clit, baby. Be sure to say hello, okay?"
I oblige without hesitation, focusing my attention exactly where she wants it, circling my tongue around the sensitive bud. Her reaction is immediate, her back arches and her grip in my hair tightens almost painfully.
"Yes," she purrs to the camera. "I suppose I am being nicer to this one than my previous toys. He's just so... passionate."
Her other hand, which had been mercilessly teasing me, changes its pace. The strokes become gentler, almost tender, as she works me with a rhythm that has me moaning against her flesh.
Her body suddenly tenses above me, thighs clamping around my head like a vise. I hear her breath catch, followed by a low, guttural moan that makes my own arousal spike. My ears are practically sealed by her thighs, but I can still hear her voice rising as she addresses the audience.
"Oh my god, he's found it," she gasps, her accent thickening dramatically. "Look at what this boy is doing to me!"
I double down on the spot that's making her tremble, circling my tongue with more pressure. Her hips begin to rock against my face, no longer under her careful control. I'm being used now, and something about that realization makes me work harder, eager to prove myself.
"Ladies," she pants, her voice breaking between words, "I think your tips have, ah! Motivated him perfectly."
Her hand has stopped moving on me entirely, too lost in her own pleasure to maintain her rhythm. I don't mind. There's something intoxicating about making this powerful woman lose control.
"He's making me…" she cuts herself off with a sharp cry, her body shuddering violently above me. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming on his sweet face!"
Her thighs press even tighter as waves of pleasure course through her. I can feel every tremor, taste the evidence of her orgasm as she grinds against my tongue. Her hand twists in my hair, holding me exactly where she wants me as she rides out her climax.
When she finally stops shuddering, Irina takes a deep breath and leans back, loosening her thighs around my head. I gulp in fresh air, my face glistening with the evidence of her pleasure. She's still perched above me, but her posture has relaxed, the tension leaving her body in waves.
"Oh ladies," she purrs to the camera, her voice honey-sweet with satisfaction, "I think after that performance, he deserves to finish too, don't you?"
She shifts her weight, sliding down my body with graceful movements until she's hovering over my painfully hard cock. She looks at the laptop, still reading the chat.
"And inside me? My, my," she says with a theatrical gasp, "are you trying to get me pregnant?"
My heart hammers in my chest at her words. I know she's playing it up for the camera, but something about the taboo nature of it sends electricity through my veins.
She lowers herself onto me in one smooth motion, enveloping me completely. The sensation is overwhelming after being teased for so long. I can't help the pathetic whimper that escapes my lips as her heat surrounds me.
"Look at me," she commands, her voice dropping to a husky whisper as she begins to move.
I obey instantly, my eyes finding hers. The way she's looking at me is different now, intense, focused, like I'm the only thing that exists in her universe. Her hips roll with deliberate precision, each movement calculated to drive me wild.
"They want to see you cum inside me," she says. Her eyes never leave mine as she speaks, holding me captive with her gaze.
I'm mesmerized by her. The way she moves, the way she looks at me like I'm her entire world, it's intoxicating. I know it's part of the show, but in this moment, I can almost believe it's real.
"They want you to get me pregnant," she whispers, her voice dropping so low I wonder if the microphone can even pick it up.
Something about those words, combined with her relentless rhythm and that piercing gaze, pushes me over the edge. A moan tears from my throat as my body surrenders completely. I feel myself pulsing deep inside her, every nerve ending firing at once as pleasure crashes through me in waves.
Irina smiles down at me, victorious and satisfied as she feels me emptying into her. Her hands stroke my chest gently, almost tenderly, as she works me through the aftershocks.
Irina leans down, her silky hair falling around us like a dark curtain. Her lips find my neck, pressing soft kisses along my throat. My body's still twitching inside her, aftershocks of pleasure making me gasp as her mouth works its way up my jaw.
When her lips finally reach mine, the kiss is surprisingly gentle. It almost feels affectionate. I respond instinctively, my hands finding her waist as she sighs against my mouth.
She pulls back slightly, a wide smile spreading across her face as she looks down at me.
"Well, that's all for today," she announces, her accent making the words sound musical. She glances at the laptop, reaching over to tap a few keys.
As she moves to close the stream, I catch a glimpse of the chat window scrolling rapidly. One message stands out, bigger than the others, someone must have paid extra to highlight it.
"These two are so hot because they look more like lovers than just people fucking. I'm dying of jealousy!!!"
My stomach does a weird flip as I read it. Lovers? Is that how we look to strangers? The thought is both unsettling and oddly comforting.