I rub her clit and finger her silky pussy, making sure she’s good and ready for the dildo I hold in my hands. Her juices run down my fingers, into my palm, and down my wrist. She lets out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard.

“Bend over,” I say.

She starts to bend over.

“No, in front of the mirror.”

She stands in front of the mirror and watches me with sultry, hooded eyes. I take her by the hips and turn her so her ass is facing the mirror.

“On your knees,” I say.

She smiles and I can tell she likes where this is going. She kneels down and bends over until the side of her face is against the carpet.

“Can you see yourself?” I ask. My cock pulses at the sight of her splayed and open to me. I love that she’s so confident and there’s not on ounce of self-consciousness while being exposed and vulnerable.

She moves her head so she can watch. “Yes,” she says, panting.

She looks fucking amazing at this angle, and by the way she’s moving her hips to get the best possible angle, I think she knows it. Her pussy is satin-pink, wet, and slightly gaping, her asshole a perfect little knot.

I spread her folds apart, which causes her to drip on the carpet and I nearly come at the sight of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a girl who’s gotten this wet before.

She moans. “Fuck me, please.” When I put the head of the dildo against her opening she begs for it. She gasps when I slowly push it inside of her. It’s halfway in when I finally meet some resistance. She moves her hips and it goes further in and her moans fill the room. I work it in and out of her, enjoying the show of filling her up.

I kneel behind her and suck on her clit while the dildo is inside of her and listen to her chant, “Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes.”

“I want you inside of me,” she says.

I want to fuck her more than anything, but when we do, I don’t want it to be under the weight of this fake marriage.

“Not until the wedding night,” I tease.

“I thought you weren’t old fashioned.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Then I want you in my mouth,” she says.

She rises so she’s on her hand and knees. She grabs the dildo from me and starts working it inside of her with one hand while keeping her balance with the other. I stand in front of her. She opens her mouth and I slip the head of my cock between her full wet lips. I smooth the hair away from her eyes. She looks up at me, watching my face as she gives me head. She does this thing with her tongue where she swirls it around the head and the sensitive under side that makes it nearly impossible to keep from blowing my load. It takes a small miracle to hold it in. I’m not coming until she gets hers.

I force myself to keep my eyes open to see the show, but my body just wants to give into this amazing sensation.

If this were real. If we were real, this could be our life. I could be fucking the most beautiful, fun, amazing girl I’ve ever met on a regular basis. She would be mine.

The sounds of her moans change, becoming desperate. She works the dildo faster, her hand a blur in the mirror as she fucks herself. I know she’s close. So am I. She’s an expert at this, and I still can’t believe I’ve lasted this long.

One more thrust into her mouth and I explode.

Her whole body starts to shake, and I watch, enraptured as she’s racked by orgasm contractions. The dildo slips out, covered in her cum, her pussy raw from friction. She turns over and lays on her back. I lay next to her, utterly spent.

We’re both out of breath, but quiet and content. It was incredible. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman I’ve actually cared about, that I’d forgotten how amazing it could feel with the right person.

“You’re incredible,” I tell her.

She gives me a lust-drunk smile. “So are you.”

I roll over onto my side and kiss her shoulder. I glance over at the dress piled on the floor in the corner. “Why do you hate the dress?” I ask.

She glances over at the white pile of lace and satin and cringes.

“I guess that’s probably not how I should be treating a dress that cost a fortune, but right now I’m having a hard time convincing myself to care.” She looks at me with those beautiful eyes and sex-flushed face. There’s still beads of sweat dotting her forehead. She shrugs. “It felt wrong, picking it out, since this is all fake.”

Even though I’m very aware that our arrangement isn’t the real thing, it still burns to hear her say it. I try not to let it affect me, but it’s impossible. The smile I’d had plastered to my face just moments ago slips away. Now I couldn’t force a smile even if I wanted to.

“It’s fine,” she says quickly, and I know she sees the change in me. “I’ll wear it and do the job.”

I stare up at the ceiling. “If you’d like a different dress, feel free to get it. I’ve left my black card on the kitchen counter for all of your needs while you’re here.” I stand up and put my clothes on. I can’t be here right now. “I have to get back to work.”

I leave without another glance.