Work in Progress

"Which part is that?"

Caitlyn bit her lip and smiled. "I'm an exhibitionist. I like being watched. I didn't realize it about myself until I was... gosh, a year into camming? You know, since I started transitioning, I've had some... changes? One of those is that my..." Her cheeks and chest flushed with color. "My erections are different? I don't get them as often. Once I'm there, it's fine, but it can be a little harder to get there in the first place. With the phone sex, it's basically never. Escorting is, I don't know, maybe fifty-fifty... but with camming? It's, like, a hundred percent. A thousand. It's almost like before I transitioned, and I'm so turned on."

Phillip shifted again, and she couldn't help notice that his way of sitting wouldn't have been comfortable. Which meant that it probably had ulterior motives. Which made her smile.

"There's something about having someone watch me that... I don't know. I don't know how to describe it. That's the weird thing about turn ons, right? Most of the really big ones almost don't make sense. You can obsess about that, if you want, or you can just go with it! That's what I try to do now."

"I hope you won't take this the wrong way," he said, "but it sounds like you're really good at your job."

Caitlyn laughed and smiled. "Thank you! The hardest part, about using my exhibitionism as part of my job, is keeping from being exploited, and to a lesser extent being objectified. My sister really helps me keep perspective there."

"I always thought Tori was kind of a badass."

"She is!" She chuckled and shook her head. "She's been amazing."

Phillip squinted and tilted his head. "Something in the way you said that makes me feel like there's more to it."

Caitlyn's heart leapt again. She licked her lips, took a breath, and laughed nervously when she said, "I'm really not used to other people reading me."

"Oh." He sat up straighter, looking ruffled, and she rushed to continue.

"No no! It's... It's like the most endearing hecking thing you could do. I swear!"

"Hecking?"

"What?" she giggled. "Shut up!"

"Okay, I guess I'm not sorry I asked a follow up question?"

Caitlyn nodded. "What you so cleverly caught—I don't know if it was my expression or a pause or what—is that Tori's being awesome is especially important because my parents..." She swallowed and nodded more firmly. "They're still coming around... about my transition. They will, eventually. I know it."

Phillip reached across the back of the couch and, for the first time, laid his hand over hers. "I know how that can be. It... it was for me too."

Caitlyn nodded vigorously. "But you," she said, with just a slight hitch in her voice, "have been... I don't know. There's a parallel there, with Tori. You've been really observant, and caring, and I..."

He squeezed her hand, and then let go. "Do you need a tissue?"

Caitlyn shook her head as she blinked away a tear. "I'm okay. I'm just... I'm starting to feel like... Like now that I'm saying this out loud, it's too much. Who could..." She wiped at her eye. "It wouldn't have been fair to you to keep it a secret, but I don't know how anyone..." She pressed the back of her hand to the tip of her nose, and held out her other hand, palm out as if to stop him. "I really wanted tonight to go different."

"Cait," Phillip said, "I... I'm not... like... like, I think I don't care."

"And if that's true," she said, voice breaking even more, "it'll still be true in a day or two. You should think it through. Don't... rush into this, because it's a lot."

"Cait, please."

She shook her head and set the pillow down on the couch, and it took everything she had to stand up. "I'm trying to make this fair to you. I'm not... I'm not breaking up with you. I just need you to be sure."

"I am sure," he said, as he stood too.

"The hardest part of my job," she said, holding his gaze, "is hearing exactly what I want to hear."

Phillip continued to make sounds that weren't quite words as she moved around the couch and picked up her purse.

"Thank you for dinner," she said.

"Cait," he called, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other until the door shut behind her. Then she could cry.

She sat on the top step for a minute, with her arms wrapped tight around her middle, and tried to keep it to a light sob. Her body betrayed her when she stood up; she found herself facing his door with her arm raised to knock, but she held back at the last second. She made it down two steps before she turned around and went back to his door. And then the fifth step, before she turned around and went back to his door. And then the landing...

...and then, just as she pulled out her phone to call her sister and put an end to her dithering, his door opened and light streamed out into the night. Phillip moved quickly, and seemed surprised when he spotted her. He looked like he'd been expecting to run down a car that was already pulling out on the street. She backed up against the railing, and he came to a stop in front of her. They stared at each other for a long moment there.

"I don't want to go," she whispered.

"Kiss her!" came a shout from a building behind her.

"You know that... that other cliche," she said softly, as she stepped closer to him, "where sometimes a girl wants to be chased? And-and wants to feel wanted?"

"Yeah?"

"Just kiss her!"

"Yeah," Caitlyn said.

"I don't want you to go."

"Do it already!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Papasian," he called back.

Caitlyn took a deep breath, tilted her head in the direction of the voice, and said, softly, "She's right."

Phillip grinned, and when he held her she felt weightless. Free floating, and yet safely tethered. His kiss was tender, and soft, but his arms... his arms were like iron bands. He lifted her into the air, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her tennis shoes twined around each other, and she squeezed him for all she was worth.

"I didn't want to go," she said, in between kisses. "I didn't."

Phillip said nothing. He didn't have to. The way he held her did it for him, and when he turned and headed back up the stairs, still carrying her, Caitlyn thought she could hear cheering coming from the apartments across the way.

He kicked the door closed behind him, carried her across to the kitchen, and deposited her on the countertop. She kept her legs tight around his middle, and he didn't fight her grip. All she wanted was for him to keep kissing her, forever, and damn the need for air.

Of course, no matter how much she wanted to drown in him her body simply would not let her, and nearly a minute later she was panting and staring up at him. Feeling very exposed, and kind of loving it. The way he looked at her was unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

"I have a lot of regrets in my life," Phillip panted, "but not kissing you before now is suddenly very high on that list."

"We kissed before!" Caitlyn laughed, breathlessly.

"Not like that," he replied.

"Not like that," she agreed.

His hands moved to her ribs, thumbs and fingers split out in different directions. "I did some reading," he said, still short of breath, "and watched some things, and they all said that I should... I should..."

"You are so cute when you're flustered," she said, and she kissed him again.

"That I should ask you what kind of sex you want. Find out what you're comfortable with."

Caitlyn bit her lip and smiled.

"What?"

"You."

"What?"

"Look at you. Bein' all considerate."

He looked down for a moment. "I don't want to screw this up. I felt something when we went out for coffee. And-and-and who knows? Maybe I felt something for you long before that, and idiot me just—"

Caitlyn grabbed his shirt and cut him off with another kiss, this one longer. His hands gripped her tightly, and she squeezed right back with her legs. When their lips parted, she whispered, "Don't do that to yourself, okay?"

He nodded.

"It was lovely of you to ask," she said, voice still low. "I appreciate that."

He nodded again.

"I think that you'll find that, once we get started, I might not be hard enough to... to do that. To you."

"Okay," he said, nodding and staring into her eyes. They were such a pale green. Almost gray.

"If you ever wanted me to I have pills and I don't mind it, but it's not usually what I want." She swallowed hard. "You asked, so..."

"So, what do you want?"

Caitlyn pushed him back, away from the counter, and dropped to her feet. He smiled as he backed up, around the couch, and with a gentle shove he fell backwards into a big arm chair.

"I want you there," she said.

She kicked his feet apart with a smirk, and slowly lowered herself to her knees. His eyes were on her the whole time, knuckles whitening as he gripped the armrests. Caitlyn smirked, unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, and folded each side back. The muscles in his neck stood out when she reached into his boxers. A little purr escaped with her breath when she took him in her hand, and pulled him out.

"You can touch yourself," she said, "if you like, but I want you to watch me."

Caitlyn hooked her thumbs into the heel of her shoes, held them flush to the floor, and stepped out of them one at a time. Her tall while socks still clung tightly to her feet and calves. She swayed across the room, making each step a statement, and picked up his remote control.

"Play Dangerous Woman, by Ariana Grande."

She ran her hands through her hair, elbows raised over her head, and swayed back and forth slowly. The plucky, sparse guitar danced and skipped around the beat, and the more it built, the more she moved. Phillip made a sound that sent a shiver through her spine as her stretchy pants slid down over her ass, little by little, and when she stood back up in just her top and panties, she felt like a queen.

When she saw that he was, in fact, touching himself, she felt like a goddess.

In her head, with no time to plan it out, she'd thought that she would have gone on for longer, but seeing him sitting there staring at her was just too much. She crawled onto his lap, lip firmly pinched between her teeth, and took both of his cheeks in hand as she brought him into a long kiss. It felt like it happened in slow motion, or maybe that the rest of the world flew by around them.

She could feel the heat of him, pressed up against the swell in her blue-black panties, and it made her giggle into the kiss. His hands were on her, sliding up under her loose shirt, and every part of her was cheering him on. She bit his lip and pulled, and his eyes narrowed to slits. He didn't cry out, though, and he didn't stop exploring her body. When his hands slid up over the cups of her bra, she shivered. The feeling of being touched through fabric was, in some ways, even better than without it in the way.

When he grabbed the underwire of her bra, and pushed it up along with the front of her shirt, it took her by surprise. She sat back with a gasp, and groaned as he took her nipple into his mouth. Her nipples were very small, extremely pink, and were as hard as diamonds under his touch. He brushed a thumb back and forth gently over her other nipple, working both of them in time, and her head fell back.

The longer he went, the more he groped and squeezed. Sucking harder. Tongue lashing. Biting. She ran a hand through his hair, holding him against her chest, and writhed in his lap. Hips grinding. When she finally pried his attention away from her breast, and made up for lost time kissing, the feeling of his saliva cooling on her skin was such a ridiculously wonderful thrill. She had never felt more wanted in all of her life.

"Bed," he whispered, and Caitlyn nodded.

He pushed her top and bra up, without unfastening the band, and the feeling of it scraping across her skin was such a gorgeous little prick of pain that she couldn't stop from gasping. There was something about the take-charge-ness of it that was almost too much, and she was worried as she slid backwards that her legs would give out.

She followed his eyes as he stood, intuiting where the bedroom was, and pushed him back into the chair with a flirty grin. She winked over her shoulder as she walked ahead of him, making each step count as she worked her hips for everything they were worth. Behind her, Phillip groaned loudly. She cupped her breasts, hands crossing to cover the other, as she slipped through the door. The light from the hall was enough to find the bed, and she stopped right in front of it to slide down her panties.

When she turned and curled up on the bed, he was standing next to his dresser. Unbuttoning his shirt, wrists first and then down the middle. God, he's sexy, she thought, and he checked off a lot of her boxes. Broad shouldered. A chin you could cut yourself on. A shadow of stubble.

All of that paled in comparison to the intensity of his eyes.

Caitlyn laid on her side and raised her knee up toward her shoulder as he watched her. She got her arm in under the knee, pulled it back, and held his gaze as she took a firm grip on her semi-hard cock and gave the head a lick. Phillip froze in place as he watched, and she couldn't help but smile. She could go further, and had on many occasions, but the real effect of it wasn't for her. Sucking herself off felt nice, yes, but the greater thrill was in watching him watch her. The way his skin flushed. The way his pupils dilated.

It was a party trick, but it was a good one.

"Condom," she said, in between taking the head of her own cock in past her lips. She kept her eyes on him, and the way that he stammered as he tried to think while watching her was such a personal triumph. She was fairly long, a couple inches longer than average, and her compact five foot five frame helped considerably. Caitlyn had never had the opportunity to do it in person, with someone else watching, and all the practice she'd put in doing it over the years was paying off exquisite dividends.

He climbed onto the bed a minute later, tossed the condom down beside himself, and grabbed her other leg. Before she knew what was happening, he rolled her back onto her shoulders, so that her hips were over her head. Her knees didn't quite reach the bed, but her shaft thickened considerably. It wasn't until she felt his lubed fingers pushing gently against her anus, as he stared down at her, that she understood. It was hard to bob her head from that angle, to work any amount of the shaft in or out, but she tried and he ate up every ounce of the effort.

"My god," he said, hoarsely. "You're incredible."

Upside down though she was, she reached back behind and fumbled around his body until she found his cock, and gave him a few quick tugs. He swatted her hand, and she grinned around the shaft. His two fingers probed her, pushing deeper and spreading the lube, while he braced his body against her. With his other hand, he brought the condom wrapper up to his mouth, tore it open with his teeth, and spit the foil away. For the first time since she'd re-entered the apartment, his attention was split. He looked back and forth at her, and then down at himself as he worked the condom down around his own head, and as soon as he could he grabbed her hips with both hands. Caitlyn's whole body was alight as he moved her around at will. Her lower back came down against his thighs, as he sat on his heels, and she felt his shaft between her legs. The head of his condom-wrapped cock peeked out past her balls, and it was magnificent. Thicker than she was, or had ever been.

She worked against his arms, lifting herself into the air slightly, and when she came back down he had aligned his cock with her hole. It slid inside of her, spreading her apart, and Caitlyn let out a long, low groan. She brought her knees back toward her shoulders, feet pointed straight up in the air, and reached around her hips to grab at her cheeks. Her fingertips dug into the soft flesh, nails scratching, and she pulled herself apart. She wanted to open herself up to him as much as she could.

Phillip grabbed the backs of her knees, rolled her back onto her shoulders a little bit, and thrust into her. The pace was quick, but not overly so.

"Oh gosh," Caitlyn groaned. "Oh gosh, that feels so good."

Phillip said nothing. His face was pinched with effort, and his eyes were transfixed on her shaft as it swung and bounced back and forth across her belly. Precum dribbled from her slotted tip, dotting her abdomen, and she reached up to take the shaft in her hand. As soon as she did, Phillip's eyes went wild and his thrusting practically doubled. Best of all was that the faster he went, the less control he had over the depth of his thrusts, and his hips started to crash into her ass with more and more ferocity. She loved the feel of it. The reckless abandon. The sensation of him inside of her was wonderful, but the way he was losing control was absolutely divine.

His cheeks and forehead turned a bright red, and she lurched from her languid imaginings to action. The position they were in was putting strain on him, and her natural instincts took over.

"Lay back," she gasped. "On your back."

She rolled her hips, kicked her leg over, and slid to the side. His cockhead made a pop as it exited her that she thought she would remember for the rest of her life, it was so distinctive. Just as she thought, perspiration was running down his chest. He didn't complain, but he also did as she asked, and Caitlyn was thoroughly pleased to take over just a little. She moved his legs so that they were near to each other, and straddled him.

Again, his eyes were drawn to her semi-flaccid shaft, and she felt her middle twist just a little. She wanted attention there, and wanted him to want her as she was, but there was always the risk that he wanted her solely for that. She blinked, smiled, and banished the worry from her mind for a while. There would be time to assess later.

She bit her lip and winced as she guided him back inside of her, and once the head slipped in behind her ring the mixture of relief and strain was amazing. Phillip had a very pronounced cockhead, and it was such an event when it entered and exited her. It was wonderful. A little shifting of her legs, and a little squirming, as she sat down as far as she could. She reached back and planted her hands on his legs just above the knees, and off she went.

This was a pose she had worked often with toys, in her cam show. It worked her thighs and abs as she popped up and down, but her body was ready for it. She had been preparing for this, without knowing it, for a long time. As she settled into a rhythm, her cock picked up a lot of momentum, like a spring.

Her shaft had a slight downward curve to it at the best of times, and it never got hard enough to where the veins protruded anymore, but when she moved like that it became something else. In her mind, her cock was a thing to behold more than it was a tool of penetration. It moved like a snake, and she was it's charmer. With a little bit of care, she could even make it whirl in a circle.

She never got the chance. After a minute of bouncing, Phillip reached down and made a fist right at the root. The strength of his grip was such that that the head swelled, blood rushing outward, until it was nearly purple, and Caitlyn gave a shrill whimper. And then she bounced faster.

"Oh god," he groaned, face tight. "Oh god."

"Do it," she whined, "please," but her pleas had been unnecessary.

His last words stretched and warped, and she felt his shaft pulse within her. There was a slight swelling deep inside of her, where the condom was no doubt capturing whatever he had produced. She worked her hips in a circle, squeezing her core muscles as tightly as she could, and Phillip fell back against the bed with a gasp.