The Gift of Orgasms - Cheerful

"It was amazing," I said. "Thank you very much."

Niki bit a painted lip, as if trying to phrase something. "Mind-blowing?"

"Oh shit! Of course," I said. I focused my eyes on her, about to give the mental command.

"Wait!" Niki said, her eyes growing wide. She hurried over to my kitchen table (in actuality just a card table with a thrift store tablecloth over it) and sat down. Then she nodded at me.

I focused on her and commanded in my mind, "Cum". I felt the whooshing and she started. Maybe it was because she was ready for it or getting more accustomed to it, but I could actually see the orgasm pushing through her in waves, building, swelling, receding, and repeating. I noticed this because she was topless and it was very evident from how her tits bounced when she was feeling a swell. I was watching closely.

She finished, breathing deeply.

"Ohhhh my god," she muttered. "That's... oh that's just incredible."

"Well, I had a lot of fun too," I said. I stood, pulled on my underwear, and went to the kitchen. I wanted some pizza.

"Was that... was that mind-blowing enough for you?" Niki asked.

With a slice of pizza in my hand, I answered honestly, "That was the best sex I've ever had. And you are the hottest girl I've ever had slept with. And together, that is indeed a mind-blowing thing."

"Did you want... you know... anything different next time?" Niki asked.

Next time. The words echoed in my brain for a long moment before I actually processed them.

"You'd do this again?" I said. My plan had ended when I came on her chest--and even that had not been the plan.

"I had assumed that you would want more," Niki said. "You know... if... if you were still willing to keep giving me..."

I realized that I did want her again. I wanted her a lot. I had her mouth and I had her tits. I hadn't even tried her pussy yet. I had never tried anal before, but I was down to try--although Madi in yoga pants floated through my mind here. I did want to fuck Niki a lot. And I wanted it like this, where she did the work. What had Madi called it? I wanted the "porn star treatment".

That meant that I needed to keep Niki hooked on what I could give her. And as dark and greedy as this thought was, I wanted her to try just as hard next time. I wanted her desperate. I was worried that if we came to an arrangement, she might not try as hard the next time. Part of what made this so damned sexy was the obvious effort, forethought, and depravity she brought to the table. I didn't want that to slack.

"How about this?" I said, pausing to take a bite of pizza and think about my words. "You did a really good job. You made me feel like a king or something. So let's make an agreement.

"If you put in the work, act sexy for me, and get me off, I'll give you one orgasm."

Niki's eyes flashed hungrily. She had just gotten off, but was apparently eager for the next one. That was good. I could use that. I continued.

"But if you blow my mind... really, truly blow my mind, and I'll give you three."

"Three orgasms?" Niki clarified, her voice desperate. It was like she was afraid I was about to pull the rug out on her.

"Yes, three orgasms. If you truly blow my mind. That's up to you to figure out how to do, by the way. And it's totally up to me to determine if my mind has been blown. No arguments. Agreed?"

Niki nodded furiously.

"But if you show up and I feel like you're half-assing it.. not really trying to make me happy, just trying to get yourself off... then our arrangement is over."

Niki's eyes widened in a sort of panicked reverence. "No more... at all?"

"Correct," I said. "I have the ability to give you the best orgasms of your life. I expect you to put in the effort to thank me. If you're not going to bring your A-game every time, I can just as easily find another girl who will." I took a bite of pizza, letting the implications flow through her mind. I swallowed, then added, "I mean, look how far I got you in just one day. I could do that with someone else too."

That was the seal. I could see it. She believed that I could find someone to replace her and the idea terrified her. "I promise," she said, her voice desperate. "I promise I'll make you really happy. I'll try really hard and I'll never skimp."

"Not like this morning," I observed, "where you offered a hand job and didn't even want to take your top off."

"No, no!" Niki said, her voice almost frantic. "Not like that. I promise, I'll be really sexy every time. Anything you want. Everything you want."

"And you'll do the work," I observed mildly.

"Yes!" Niki nodded.

"And you'll come up with ideas," I said. "Sometimes I don't know what I want. Sometimes you just offering 'whatever you want' might come across as lazy."

"I'll come up with ideas!" Niki nodded vigorously. "I won't be lazy. I promise."

I nodded, approvingly. "Good." I took another bite of pizza. "And if you try hard every time and get me off, then I'll keep giving you orgasms. And if you really, really do a great fucking job, then I'll give you three."

Niki's eyes flashed again at the prospect.

"That reminds me," I said, although I had never actually forgotten. This was the all important part. I had established a stick, but now to really hammer home the carrot. "Go climb on my bed. Get comfortable."

Niki hurried over to the bed, laying down. Her breath was already picking up in anticipation. I focused on her and commanded her to cum. She did, thrashing about my bed and making a racket. She rested, then, catching her breath. After a minute, I focused again and commanded her to cum. She did, the third time in a row. I feared that it had reduced in potency, but if anything they grew more powerful. Her body writhed more, she moaned more, and they lasted longer.

Finally, Niki collapsed after her last orgasm. She lay there, her bare chest heaving. She looked amazing. I was very glad to have waited for a real offer in exchange for his services.

Niki suddenly snapped to attention, sitting up. She stood, straightened the sheets, and said, "Sorry. I... I don't mean to just lay here like this."

"That's fine," I said, munching again on my pizza. With a full mouth, I added, "I want you to enjoy your reward."

I reached for a grocery list, tore free the first sheet, and jotted down my number on it. Niki picked up her bra from the ground, but was very carefully not covering her tits. She stepped forward, gingerly, and accepted the number from me.

"Text me when you want to please me," I said. "You know, so you don't run into..." Something occurred to me. "You know I am propositioning other girls, right?"

Niki nodded.

"That doesn't bother you?" I asked.

Niki shook her head. "If you keep giving me orgasms like that... I don't care. I don't care at all. I think that... maybe I might just be afraid that you won't have time for me." She was grasping the paper and her lace bra like they were lifelines. Those orgasms had hit her harder than I thought they would. Uncle Pete had said they were addictive, but... geeze.

"I'll text you," Niki said softly, then hurriedly added, "You know, like you said." She pursed her lips, looked down, and added, "But... if you need me. You know... if you want someone to play with... I'm right down the hall. I can be dressed up, made up, and ready to go in fifteen minutes notice. You know... if you want some entertainment."

I smiled at her. The memory of her crossed arms and ungrateful expression from just this afternoon flashed through my mind. Now, she was puddy in my hands. What had she said yesterday? "I'm not some whore." Now, she was offering moments-notice sex. The irony wasn't lost on me and I was feeling a power trip. Maybe it would have been kinder to let it lay, but I couldn't resist.

"In case I need a whore to suck me off?" I said. I intended a little bit of spite, but apparently the orgasms had sufficiently chastised her.

"Yes," Niki nodded furiously. "I wanna be your whore. Whenever you want." She heard the words come out of her mouth, then quickly added, "But I'll have ideas how to please you! I'll invest ways to blow your mind. Like a good whore should. I promise."

Woah. Not the reaction I expected. Then again, not entirely unwelcome.

"Ok," I said. "Text me so I have your number." I pointed toward the door. "You can go."

"Ok," she said. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She bent down, picked up the jacket she had worn on her way over, and hurried out the door. I had expected her to get dressed before stepping outside, but she didn't even bother putting the bra back on her huge tits.

I sat quietly, eating pizza and reliving the experience. Sexiest girl I had ever slept with, doing the most depraved shit I had ever done. I guess in retrospect, it could have been worse stuff, but I hadn't exactly been Hugh Heffner so far in my life. The question that probed my mind most of all was what would she have continued to do if I hadn't cum when I had? For such a high-intensity experience, I think I lasted admirably long.

My phone buzzed. I looked down. It was a text from Niki. "This is Niki, your on-call whore." This was a far cry from a clothes-on hand job. As if to drive the fact home, a second text arrived, containing five different pictures of her in various states of undress. Another text explained, "Your own choice of contact picture. If you want, we can take more next time I'm over. ;)".

I picked the one that showed her topless, on her knees, looking up at the camera with desperate eyes and an open mouth.

"Wow," I muttered. "I guess it really is addictive." I was beginning to realize that I might have to be more careful how I used this. Then again... Uncle Pete had lived it up. Suddenly, his example seemed pretty good.

---

Work was boring. The entire day, it felt like I had woken up from a dream--one with magic powers and sexy women ready to do my bidding. Work just felt like... work. I got coffee, I proofread articles, I made minor suggestions, I showed my boss how to save a PowerPoint as a PDF. I was back to my life as usual.

When I finished work, I went home. I was half convinced that I none of it had happened at all. It seemed so far-fetched. I opened my phone, looked down at the text messages, and saw the ones from Niki. I scrolled through the pictures again. I wondered if her mind had sobered at all or if she felt like she was waking up from a dream herself.

I microwaved a meal, sat on the couch, and turned on the television. I scrolled through streaming options for a moment, but eventually lost interest. I sat there on the couch, looking at a bunch of TV shows that I didn't want to watch, holding a bowl that was empty.

I looked again at my phone. Almost as if on cue, I got a text message. The number was unknown--I had not yet saved Niki's number in my phone--but it came through just below the nudes she had sent yesterday. It read, "Been thinking about you today. ;) If you're feeling bored, take a look through this album. Favorite whatever you like and I'll be sure to wear it for you. XOXO, BJBJ".

There was a link to a shared photo album. I stared at it a moment, then glanced back at the text above it. Did I dare? Yes. I dared.

As soon as the link opened and my phone's screen filled with the dozens of pictures of Niki in various frilly, revealing lingerie, I knew that this was wrong. So I copied the link, sent it to myself, and opened it on my computer, where I could see much better. Satisfied now, I went through the long, arduous process of scrolling through every picture.

Naturally, there were multiple pictures of the same lingerie from different, sexy poses, but I was surprised by the vast variety. I spent a long time appreciating a red, mesh baby-doll. Her tits were easily visible through it, but supported and staged by it too. The silky dangling fabric looked great on her midriff. I favorited each and every one of those pictures. Others were a swing and a miss, like the latex and leather. I had heard a theory once that men, more or less, broke down into "leather guys" and "lace guys". I was definitely the latter.

There were 142 pictures in the album. While I thought that I was taking my time and going through slowly, I quickly found my way to the end. Almost as I reached it, however, that number jumped to 143. When I flipped to the last one, I found a video instead of a picture. Niki was in the red, mesh baby-doll that I had favorited. She started close to the camera, so she could press play, then backed up into her apartment. She lifted her arms, spun in a tight circle as she wiggled her hips, and displayed herself from all angles. She approached the camera, bent over, grasped her tits, and shook them in front of the camera, smiling teasingly as she did. Then, she knelt on the floor, reached up to grab the camera, and pointed it down at her. Her leasing smile was replaced with a look of hungry longing. Her lips--so distracted I was by the lingerie that I hadn't noticed until now that they were covered in a matching red--parted. A slow, intentional tongue ran its way over her lips, then she opened wide. Her intention and invitation was clear.

I watched the video twice. Halfway through the second, I had to actively remove my hand from my pants, where it was unconsciously rubbing my dick through my pants.

I favorited the video and pressed the "next" button, expecting it to bring me back to the beginning. Instead, it took me to a new picture. Apparently, Niki had uploaded one more picture while I ogled her in the video.

She was still in the red, leaning up against a wall with her arms above her head. She was looking into the camera with a sultry gaze. She reminded me of a model. While the picture was great, it was the words that really stopped me. In a "word art" style, positioned carefully above her to not block my view of her body, was the message: "You like your whore in red." Written below in similar form was, "I'll be wearing it all night if you want to try it out."

Instinctively, I favorited the picture.

I stood up, pacing my living room. Uncle Pete's warning about the orgasms flashed through my head: "Be warned, it can be rather addictive." That made sense, I supposed. Orgasms ordinarily were the greatest pleasure the mind had, how much more so with this sort of super-orgasm? It was like a drug, I supposed. How many doses had it taken to get Niki hooked? I counted quickly. Two orgasms--and denial of a third--had put her at my doorstep in lingerie with intention to blow. After that... after that I had given her three more. I had been very satisfied and it had seemed like a good idea, but had that pushed her over the edge into full-fledged addict? Just five orgasms?

What's worse was that she had only given me one (excluding the many that she had given me through my own imagination), but I was having a very difficult time resisting the urge to capitalize on her need. Why shouldn't I enjoy it? Why shouldn't I get hot girls hooked on what only I could give them? Again, Uncle Pete's words sprung to mind: "They're using you for pleasure. Return the favor."

I thought again of the five orgasms I had given her. I thought again of the one that she given me. Of course, the red mesh baby-doll wasn't far from my brain either.

In retrospect, I wasn't actually sure if I ever really considered not doing it.

"Come entertain me," was the text I sent. I went to my "favorites folder", filled with images of Niki in lingerie, and shared my screen with the TV.

My phone buzzed. "Yes sir."

I set the favorites album to slide show and my TV filled with the best images of Niki's sexy, porn-like photoshoot. I approached the door. She knocked before I reached it. This time, there was no reason to wait to make her think I wasn't eager. I opened the door.

She hadn't covered up with a jacket this time. She stood in the mesh, red baby-doll, smiling seductively up at me. She was barefoot this time, instead of in high heels. As a result, she was shorter. In some fucked up way, this was exciting to me--did smaller mean more submissive in my head? It didn't matter.

"May I come in, sir?" she said softly. I realized I had been standing in the doorway, ogling her and blocking the way. "Or would you like me to kneel and beg for the world to see?" It wasn't sarcastic. It was an offer. I realized then that her last inhibitions were long gone. If I wanted to parade her in front of the world, she would gladly go with it, so long as I got her off after it was all done. Of course, that wasn't what I wanted... probably... I was pretty sure.

I stepped aside, gestured with my head instead, and said, "Inside."

She smiled up at me, then stepped into the apartment. I looked down the hallway in either direction. It was empty, but that wasn't exactly the point. The point was that Niki apparently didn't care if anyone stepped out and saw her in a "fuck-me" outfit outside my apartment.

"Aren't you worried about being seen?" I asked.

Niki was looking casually at the TV, that showed pictures of her. She looked at me and a flash of worry crossed her face.

"I thought you might like it, actually," she said softly. "A sexy blonde, dressed up to play, knocking on your door. If anyone saw me, they would know that you have a private plaything." She batted her eyelashes at me. "I don't mind people knowing that. But if you would prefer, I can be more discrete."

"I... I don't know," I said honestly. I was far too horny to be logical.

"Same with the pictures, of course," Niki added, looking with a smile again at the TV. "They're your property. Share them with your friends if it turns you on. If it satisfies you." She smiled and crossed the room. I watched her legs with fascination. She ran her hands up my chest and planted a small kiss on my collar bone. "Or we can take some more. I'm sure there are some poses... some acts... that you wouldn't mind preserving or sharing."

Five orgasms was apparently the necessary bridge to transition "Never spoken with you" to "offering to be a personal porn star". Still, I had 144 more sexy pictures than I had the day before. In fact, combined with the five from yesterday, I have 149 more than I had two days ago. I was more concerned with the things that she could do for me in real life.

"Let's save pictures for another time," I said. "What else do you have in mind?"

Niki's red lips curled up in a promising smile.

I laid back on the bed and positioned my head comfortably on my pillow. In my foreground, I could see Niki in the red baby-doll. In the background, she was staring out of my TV in black lace and a thick black collar around her neck. She unbuckled my pants and I eagerly helped her remove them and my underwear. Niki dropped the panties from underneath the baby-doll, then climbed on top of me.

"Sir," Niki said softly as she took my dick gently in her hand. "I want you to remember..." She gave it a long, tender stroke with both hands. "...that I am your own personal whore." She lifted herself with her knees, positioned her pussy over my dick, and gently positioned my cock inside her. She descended slowly, sensuously. "I am not to be respected." She lifted, descended, and then twisted her hips in a circle, as if really drilling it into her. "I am not a girlfriend or even a one-night stand. I am a whore." She started bouncing. "I am property, sir. Your property."

I was frozen in place, watching the bombshell impale herself on my cock. Her words were hot, but what did they actually mean? I was fucking her.

She clarified. She picked up my hands, lifted them to her neck, and positioned my fingers around her throat.

"I want you to treat me like a fucking whore," Niki said, her voice and the bounce of her pussy both growing in intensity. "Choke me. Slap me. Hurt me." My fingers tightened and I felt that same power trip that I'd been riding off and on for the last few days.