Wesley holds the phone above his face, and a dim light coming from his side, lights his features just enough for me to see him. God, I miss his face. Seeing him almost everyday for months has spoiled me.
“Hey,” he replies.
I move around the room, making sure the door is locked, then looking in the large mirror propped up against the wall to lift my tits and give my hair a good zhuzh. I put my wireless headphones in and prop the phone back up where it was on the nightstand, making it the same angle as the photo. I crawl back into the middle of the bed, and kneel for him again. Wesley looks stunned.
“Is this too forward?” I ask quietly, suddenly feeling a little shy.
Wesley clears his throat. “No. Not even a little bit. Turn around.”
An involuntary giggle-squeal of excitement leaves me, and I turn for him, making a show of bending over and popping my ass up.
Wesley groans, and I hear blankets rustling.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby. Lay down and touch yourself for me,” he commands in his low, honeyed tone.
I immediately lay down, and I can tell that he likes that by the growly sound of approval coming from him. When I lay back on a stack of pillows, I pull my surprise out from underneath the blanket. When it comes fully into view, I see him squint at the screen.
“Where the hell did that come from,” he asks.
My voice is breathy as I slide the silicone down my chest, and circle my belly button with it. “I’ve had it since I moved in. Haven’t needed much use of it lately.”
“That stays in our room now,” he growls, his shoulder muscles shifting.
“Ourroom?” I ask, immediately feeling giddy.
“Yes, honey.Ourroom. Now be the good fucking girl you are, lose the underwear, and fuck yourself.”
“Yes, baby,” I reply without hesitation.
By the way his jaw ticks, and his nostrils flare, I would say he likes thata lot.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, and I grin.
I do what I’m told, and slide the already drenched piece of lace down my legs, and off completely.
“Are you touching yourself?” I ask.
I have a clear view of my screen, but he’s still only showing me his face.
“Yes,” he grits out, like he’s barely holding himself together, and finally moves the phone to show his bare chest and abs along with his corded, inked forearms straining as he fists his thick cock, stroking roughly.
Yes.
I love watching him touch himself. I moan at the sight, and preen at how powerful it makes me feel. To know I affect him like this. It makes me want to be so, so, good for him.
I lean back and do everything he instructs me to. I fuck myself slowly, then fast, and slowly again. I drag my bra down, and play with my piercings, like he loves to do. I can tell he’s losing control. I call himbabyagain, and his strokes get frantic.
Good.
Time ceases to exist as we moan and writhe together, making filthy promises for when we finally see one another again. Wesley edges me nearly to the point of tears, but finally gives me permission to come.
The words barely leave his lips before I’m coming all over the neon pink vibrator and making a mess of the duvet. Still catching my breath, I crawl over to grab my phone and demand Wesley flip the camera so I can watch him too.
I watch in awe as he pumps his huge, perfect cock only a few more times until he covers his hand and stomach in cum. His abs move up and down with his ragged breath, and cum drips down his still hard cock. I let the intrusive thoughts win, and screenshot the image.
“What did you just do?” he asks, his voice breaking a little.
Whoops. He must’ve gotten a notification.
