Obey Chloe: Bonus Chapter

I’d barely knocked before Petra pulled me inside. Her place was dim, soft lamplight spilling across the living room, and I caught a faint trace of wine and vanilla candles. My heart was pounding—not just from nerves, but from the dress she’d convinced me to wear. Black. Silky. Shorter than anything I’d ever dared to put on before. 

Petra shut the door behind me and leaned against it, letting her eyes travel from head to toe with no attempt at hiding her smile. The air between us seemed to hum.

“My God,” she whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to laugh it off, to make some sarcastic remark, but the weight of her gaze pinned me in place. “I… I still feel… a little bit ridiculous,” I whispered. “Like, maybe the dress is too short.” But I knew it wasn’t true. I knew the dress was just right. It was just… more revealing than I was used to. I knew I was sexy. But my outward confidence just hadn’t caught up to what I knew deep down. 

She pushed away from the door and crossed the space between us, her hand rising to brush along my jaw. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver through me. “You don’t look ridiculous. You look cute. I know you know it. You’re just being modest—or maybe you’re fishing for compliments.” She winked and giggled and I bit my lip, trying to maintain my composure.

Her fingers lingered, tracing the edge of my lips as if she was daring me to contradict her. I didn’t. I couldn’t. My heart raced, and in the next moment her mouth was on mine.

The kiss was light at first—testing, searching—but my gasp only encouraged her. She smiled against me, then kissed me harder. My arms moved on their own, clutching at her waist as if afraid she’d pull away.

“See?” she whispered when we finally broke for air. “Not ridiculous.”

I stared at her, dazed, and then we were kissing again, deeper this time. She tangled her fingers in my wig, tugging gently. I couldn’t wait until my hair had grown long enough that I could ditch the wigs. I couldn’t wait until she could playfully tug on my real hair. This was all so new to me. Now, instead of breaking the illusion, the reminder of what I was wearing only made my pulse race. A hot, dizzy thrill flooded me as I kissed back harder, giving in completely.

Her hands slid down, skimming my waist, my hips, the small of my back. The way she touched me was different from anything I’d ever felt before—hungry, possessive, unable to keep herself away from me. I wanted that. I needed that. 

She looked at me as if she couldn’t get enough.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered against my lips. “How much I want you like this?”

I nodded breathlessly, too overwhelmed to speak. My body trembled, and not from fear. I’d never felt so desired—not as Ethan, not as anyone.

She looked down and giggled. “Wardrobe malfunction?” she asked.

I looked down and saw it: my cock stretching my dress out. I blushed all over. “The panties you gave me… they’re small.”

“You’re bigger than me,” she said. 

She pressed me backward, guiding me step by step until the backs of my knees hit her bed. I sat down clumsily, my chest rising and falling, watching her with wide eyes.

Petra stood over me, her expression equal parts tenderness and fire. She reached down and took the skirt of her dress. Slowly and playfully, she danced it up, up, up her hips, until her panties were all that was left. Then, she gently pulled them down to let her veiny cock pop out. She grabbed it and stroked it gently, pulling back her foreskin. She spat into her hand and did it again, making her shaft glisten. I stared at it, dizzy, worried I was going to pass out.

“You really like my dick, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” I said, heart pounding.

“That’s good. Because a couple years ago, I really thought about getting the full bottom surgery. I’m glad I didn’t. I feel like you would be disappointed.”

I blushed all over. 

She reached down, brushing her thumb across my cheek, then trailed it slowly down to my collarbone.

“Tonight,” she said softly, “you’re mine.”

The words made my head spin. This was just too good to be true. Even after weeks with Petra, I still felt like I was waiting to wake up from a dream. 

She leaned down, capturing my mouth again, her body pressing against mine, her hands wandering in ways that made my laugh falter into a helpless moan. My fingers clutched at her shirt, desperate, unsure if I wanted to pull her closer or stop myself from falling further.

But when her lips moved to my neck and I felt the hot breath of her whisper—“You’re so beautiful”—I knew I wasn’t stopping anything. Not tonight.

It was just foolish to resist her. 

Piece by piece, clothes slipped away, tossed aside like afterthoughts, until all that was left was the heat between us. She kissed me again and again, each one deeper. She sat on my sat, gently grinding back and forth, her bum cradling my cock. I was trembling all over. 

Embarrassingly, I came—before I was inside any part of her. She gasped, feeling the warm gushing on her bum. “Are you really cumming right now?” she asked.

“Sorry,” I said.

“I’m supposed to be the premature ejaculator here,” she giggled. Then, she bit her lip, reached down and gently fingered her tip—and that was enough to produce her own splattering orgasm, all over my stomach. “Fuck,” she moaned.

So maybe we both had a premature ejaculation problem… Or maybe it wasn’t really a problem, because we were both able to recover fast—before we even went soft. 

It was only seconds before I had her cock in my hand and she had my cock in her hand, and we were jerking each other while kissing. “At some point I want you inside of me,” I moaned. 

“You’re always in such a rush. We have time,” she smiled. She spat into her hand and kept jerking me off. I moaned, worried I was about to cum again. “Besides, I always end up cumming the second I’m in you. It’s a problem. I feel like I disappoint you every time.” 

“What if I told you that’s my favourite part about you?” 

She grinned. “Then I would say… Bend over.” 

So I did. She pushed into me.

And she wasn’t fibbing. It was only about fifteen seconds later that she was trembling, moaning, and gushing warm sticky goo deep inside of me. 

She pulled out slowly, her cock now slumping, drained, exhausted. Cum gushed out of my hole, down my thighs—and dripping off my ball sack. She fell onto the bed, eyes glossy like she was high. “You might have the perfect ass,” she said. 

“It’s yours whenever you want it,” I said, rolling over to face her. I could still feel my hole draining. 

“Just give me ten minutes,” she said. “I just want to stare into your eyes for a while.” 

“That sounds fine,” I smiled.

And while she stared into my eyes, she reached out and grabbed my cock—maybe to even it out, or maybe because she just couldn’t help it. She gently jerked me off onto the bedsheets, staring into my eyes, giggling because it felt so naughty—yet somehow so right.