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Mark was huddled into a pathetic, trembling ball on the floor. He worshipped the ground I walked on, but the problem with worship is that it doesn’t fulfill needs. The problem with Mark was that he was soft, in every sense of the word. And when it came to fucking me, he was simply inadequate. He knew it, I knew it, and frankly, we both grew tired of the inevitable disappointment that followed his pathetic, brief attempts at trying to make me cum. So, I decided to give him exactly what we both needed – the chance to watch a real man take what he couldn’t.
I checked my watch. “Get up, Mark,” I said, excitedly. I was looking forward to seeing him realize his own inadequacy reflected in the eyes of a superior man. “Julian is coming over,” I announced, pouring myself a drink. I took a slow sip, while watching him. “You’re going to stay and you’re going to watch.”
Mark can’t make me cum
He looked at me with that desperate, hollow longing, nodding subserviently. It was obvious that he actually wanted to feel the crushing weight of his own insignificance while Julian fucked and stuffed me with his giant cock.
When the doorbell rang, I walked over to Mark and tilted his chin up. He looked so fragile and so utterly diminished by his own insecurities. “I need you to be very quiet, Mark,” I whispered. “Stay in the corner and learn what you’re missing.”
I opened the door, and as Julian walked in, Mark instinctually retreated to his spot on the floor. As Julian pulled me close, I turned my back to Mark and felt a cruel sense of relief. Tonight, I wouldn’t have to pretend. I wouldn’t have to lower my expectations or fake a climax, either. Tonight meant being fucked by the cock I deserved, instead of pretending to be happy with the extra piece of skin Mark refers to as a dick.
And pathetic little Mark would be forced to witness the reality of his own shortcomings, serving as nothing more than a spectator to my pleasure.
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