My phone chimes, and I open my eyes, reading the new text.
My Masked Valentine: How many until you can’t take it anymore?
The vibration rocks through me, the strength of the pulse tearing all air from the room as I inhale sharply.
My Masked Valentine: How many until you’re a helpless puddle on the floor?
He messes with the controls. The patterns are uneven and abrupt. I can’t keep up with the sensations. I’m not in control of my breaths or moans. I’m too wound up to even think straight.
My Masked Valentine: How many times can I make you come until you quit and take it out? Think I can find your breaking point?
Holy fuck, this man is going to be the death of me, butat least I’ll go out with a smile on my face. I’m already building back up, the second climax moments from ripping through me.
It’s so intense, so fucking hot. I’ve made myself come more than twice in a single setting, but it’s never been like this. Never at the hands of a masked man watching me through his camera while operating the vibrator from behind the screen.
Nothinghas ever been as hot as this.
I can’t handle it. It’s too much, too good, too?—
“Oh fuck!”
Stars dance in my vision as my orgasm explodes through me. My head flies back, and I cry out, gripping the arms of my chair for dear life.
“Oh God. Oh God.Please,” I murmur, unsure of what I’m saying please for.
Please don’t stop. I want to do this forever. Please stop because I’m not sure how much more I can actually handle.Both are true.
My Masked Valentine: You. This. So fucking perfect. So fucking beautiful.
I finally catch my breath, my muscles gradually relaxing one by one when the vibration is practically unnoticeable.
My Masked Valentine: Did you think we were done?
“Ahh!” I gasp as the vibration and speed strike again.
I clench every muscle in my entire body. If I thought it was too much to handle before, this is an entirely new level of intensity.
He’s working the machine and my body like he knows all the weaknesses, all the ways to push me over the edge. I don’t last another ten seconds before I’m coming again.
And again and again.
As the next orgasm builds, tears well in my eyes—something I’ve never experienced while coming. My legs are shaking, spasming, and flailing as I cry out harder and louder than before, feeling like my body may actually explode from the bombs of pleasure going off.
I can’t see. I can’t think. I can barely breathe as I come down from the high again.
My phone chimes—no, it rings. He’s calling me.
With a noodle for an arm, I reach out, pick my phone up, and answer. “Hello?”
His voice is ragged. “You did so fucking good. So fucking good.” He struggles to catch his own breath, and I wonder if he was enjoying the private show and coming along with me. “You can take it out now.”
“Thank God,” I murmur, not even realizing the thought slipped past my lips.
I giggle, and a husky chuckle leaves him.
“Take it home with you, okay?” he asks.
I nod, unable to form a word as I ease the toy out of me and put it back in the box.
