NOTE: This is an excerpt out of a much larger (300+ pages) story that I am close to finishing. Obviously, that's way too long for Reddit. So please enjoy this short extract. In the lead-up to this scene, a young girl named Kaylee had just finished giving the narrator a blowjob, after which he had taken a shower only to find that she hadn't swallowed his cum yet. Apologies for any paragraph issues. This was originally written in a word processor.
 
…and- action!..  
When I came out of the shower, Kaylee was kneeling in the middle of the hotel room. She crooked a “come over here” finger at me and then waited while I finished toweling off.
I was already hard by the time I got over to her. I’m pretty sure her original intention was to give me a last-minute blowjob, but when she tried to fit me into her mouth there was simply too much sperm. With just the head between her lips, it started squirting out from the sides. Kaylee tilted her head to one side, shrugged, and then wrapped one hand around the base of my cock and began to jerk off the head with the other. Switching hands, playing with my balls, altering from fast to slow strokes, she quickly brought me to an explosive orgasm that left her face coated in sperm.
She ran over to the desk and scribbled on the memo pad. “Take me for a walk,” it read. “Down the elevator, through the lobby, and then around the square. You have time before your ride gets here.”
“Kitten, you are going to give me a heart attack if you keep this up,” I replied, gasping at the thought of what we were about to do.
I dressed quickly while Kaylee did the same. She nearly balked at the hotel room door, backing away with a frightened jump.
“Having second thoughts?” I asked her. Kaylee shook her head, causing a glob of cum to land on her blouse. She pointed at me, jabbing her finger at my chest and then pantomiming pulling something, like a mime pretending to do a tug-of-war.
“Pulling?” I asked. “Pulling what?”
She pointed to herself, then mimed the tug-of-war again and then pointed at me.
“You want to pull me? Pull me where?”
She shook her head again, this time making a streak of cum run down her neck. Then she pointed at me, twice, mimed the rope pulling, and then pointed at herself.
“Oh, I see. You want ME to pull YOU,” I guessed. Kaylee made the “you’re close” pinch with her fingers. Then I got it. “Oh- you don’t want me to PULL you. You want me to MAKE you do this, don’t you? You want me to tell you to walk out that door in a cum splattered shirt that doesn’t even TRY conceal your breasts and then make you walk around an entire city center with your face completely glazed with my cum? Is that it?”
Kaylee pointed at me, then her nose, then me, then her nose. “I get it. I hit it right on the nose.”
I looked at her seriously. “All right, my love, here’s what we are going to do: You are going to walk out of here with your hands at your side. You are not going to wipe a single drop of that cum off your face. You are not going to try to hide your face. You are going to act as if it’s perfectly normal to be out in public with sperm coating your face and your cheeks bulging with cum, no matter how many people stare or what they say behind your back- or even directly to you. Got it?”
Kaylee nodded, gravely.
I opened the door again, and she started to take a step, then hesitated, terrified.
“Go! Now!” I commanded in a firm voice.
Luckily, our floor was empty. The walk to the elevator was probably the hardest part. Kaylee kept turning as if she wanted to dash back to our room. She was trembling, nearly panicked and getting more and more anxious as we approached the elevators. She almost lost it when I pressed the “down” button and an elevator immediately opened. The point of no return would be the threshold to that elevator, with doors closed and the car in motion.
“Get in,” I said, forcefully. Kaylee froze. Then took a tiny step forward. Then froze again. The elevator doors closed after waiting a few seconds, but I kept punching the “down” button to open them again. Kaylee remained petrified for four whole cycles of the doors closing and opening, and then timidly stepped inside.
The doors closed. We were committed. I pressed the button to take us to the lobby, but we only got a few floors down before the car came to a halt and the doors opened. Kaylee forced herself not to hide behind me or turn around and face the wall as a group of six Japanese businessmen entered. About half of them noticed immediately. The others turned to look after a rapid-fire exchange in Japanese. One of them, the head honcho, said something that the others all laughed at, turning to look at Kaylee again.
The car stopped on more time. The doors opened to an attractive woman in a business suit. She took one look at Kaylee’s face, gasped, and then stepped back from the elevator and hurried away without joining us in the elevator. When we reached the lobby floor, one of the Japanese businessmen started to say something in a contemptuous tone, and then cut himself off when he saw the glare I was giving him. He turned to Kaylee, said “Arigato,” bowed, and then rushed off to join his colleagues.
Kaylee nearly balked again as she contemplated exiting the elevator. She reached toward the rows of buttons as if to return to our floor, but I caught her by the wrist. With a gentle tug, I pulled her out of the car.
A twenty-foot diameter bubble of silence followed us as we crossed the lobby floor. People would turn to look at what had caught everyone else’s attention, immediately stop in the middle of whatever they were saying, and then turn back to their companions and babble noisily as soon as they thought we were out of earshot. Kaylee winced as she heard things like “whore,” “disgusting” and “is that what I think it is on her face?”
Kaylee heard one particularly vocal couple say “Is he some sort of pervert? He’s making her do that!” and in response pulled her wrist from my hand. Deliberately looking at the woman, she placed her hand in mine and stepped to my side to walk the remaining distance toward the lobby doors.
The doorman didn’t even blink as he held the door for us. All in a days work, I suppose. Outside, Kaylee’s mood brightened immediately. We were in a huge mass of humanity, most of which was more bizarre than a mere cum-glazed maiden. Hell, she was even more modestly dressed than one weird dude who was walking around and playing a guitar in nothing more than a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a pair of whitey-tighties.
By the time we reached the spot where you can buy cheap theater tickets, she had nearly forgotten herself. She even stopped by one of the ubiquitous three-card-monty dealers and made me put a twenty-dollar bill on the makeshift cardboard table. The dealer flipped the cards back and forth, scrambling them completely. Kaylee pointed to the middle card, which was revealed to be the hiding place of the elusive queen of hearts. Delighted, she took the proffered bill and handed it to me, skipping merrily away.
Three quarters around the square, and Kaylee wasn’t just back to normal- she was elated. Her eyes glittered, and there was a rosy red glow to her cheeks. Instead of being nearly hunched over, she walked with her shoulders thrown back and chest thrust upward proudly. Her nipples were rock hard despite the warmth of the city morning, and the thin muslin did effectively nothing to conceal them or the rest of her beautiful champagne-glass shaped breasts. She was turning heads- and loving it- as much for her beauty as for the spectacle of seeing a girl with a cum-glazed face.
Nearly back to the hotel, her confidence began to falter. I could tell that she was hearing the echoes of “slut” and “disgusting” from the lobby. So I looked at her and said “I have an idea. Follow me.”
Ducking past the security guard, I led her down the ramp into the sub-hotel parking garage. Traffic was light, and when we reached the elevators we were alone again.
We got on the first car that opened, startling a young business man who couldn’t seem to decide to stare at Kaylee’s barely-concealed breasts or her cum-splattered face. He edged past us nervously, and we got on the car and punched in our floor.
The elevator only went up two floors, opening at lobby level. A woman in her early twenties joined us. She was dressed- and styled- in a gritty punk fashion. Her hair was in a short butch cut, dyed bright blue with purple highlights. She had dozens of tattoos and piercings including a nipple ring (it kinda poked out from under her sleeveless t-shirt, what can I say? I looked.)
The punk girl gave Kaylee a long hard look, completely unabashed at the condition she was in. And then the girl said “Daaaaaaaam. That is FUCKING AWESOME!” She repeated her self, throwing a few “Holy FUCK!”’s and “FUCKING-A!”’s for good measure. And when we reached her floor, she backed out and made “heavy metal horns” at Kaylee with both hands while calling out “You ROCK, bitch!”
I swear Kaylee floated from the elevator to our room. When we closed the door behind us, she literally ran around the huge room in circles, then tore off her top, ripped her skirt off and did three cartwheels. Punching the air, shaking her head back and forth, she did a little naked victory dance and then ran back to me and flung her arms around my neck. I hugged her close and whispered “I don’t know why you did it, but man did you ever do it, Kitten. You were so brave that I thought my heart would burst.”
 
…and- scene!…
Thanks for reading this. It's been fun exploring the dynamic between these two characters. In a year or decade or century or two, I'm going to find somewhere to post it. I'm not a terribly good author. To be brutally honest, the only thing worse than my grammar is my style, and my plots have more holes than an afghan blanket. But I have fun, and that's all that counts, right?