Then take it off
slowly
I slip it off, dragging it down, pressing my nails against my skin, imagining instead the feeling of rough fingers or maybe teeth sliding it down my legs. When they’re off, I shiver, getting impossibly wetter now that I’m entirely naked underneath the blanket. I want to touch myself, but a part of me wants to wait for Elias to tell me to.
Instead, Elias chooses that exact moment to walk through our door. The outline of his big body is briefly illuminated in the light of the hallway, and then we’re shut in the dark. Together, and alone.
He walks in. It’s so silent in here that I can hear him breathing. He moves towards my bed, I hold my breath, he’s inches away from my very naked body… but then he detours towards his. I hear him rifling through his bag. I don’t move a muscle, biting my lip so hard I could draw blood. He grabs something from his bag, walks towards my bedagain, but then detours for the bathroom this time. He closes the door and turns on the lights and the fan.
I whimper, bereft and empty. My phone dings.
are you wet
soaking
I think I hear a groan from the bathroom, which only spurs me on.
can I touch myself
lick your fingers
only touch your nipples. Rub them with your wet fingers and imagine I’m licking them. Sucking them
don’t touch anything else
I hear the shower go on, and I let out the moan I’ve been holding. I throw the phone on the bed next to me and lick the fingers on both hands, placing both on my ultra sensitive nipples, so tight they’re almost sharp. I want to cry with relief and frustration as I imagine a strong, wet tongue lapping at them, swirling them around. I circle them, twirling and pinching and kneading my breasts, in the same exact way Elias did just this morning.
I’m so drenched between my legs now that I can feel myself dripping onto the bed. I spread my legs, fingers itching to touch myself.
The shower shuts off.
I grab my phone in desperation, pinching my nipple with my other hand.
did you touch yourself
only my tits, like you asked
good girl
are you quiet when you come, Mia, or do you get loud
I bite my lip. I’m not sure if I’m in denial, or don’t want Elias to have to break his promise, or I don’t know, but I have the urge to suspend reality for a bit, pretending I’m not actually sexting with the man I’ve known my entire life.
I’d be loud for you. But I can’t be loud now. I’m sharing a room with my brother’s best friend.
I don’t get an immediate text back, as if Elias is thinking about it. Was that the wrong thing to say?
then make sure you stay quiet baby. This will be our little secret
I’m going to tell you how I’d touch your hot little body. do it to yourself. Pretend it’s me.
I’d start by touching your pretty pink pussy. I’d trace the outside to feel how wet you are. did you get waxed just for me? I’d take you either way, but now you can feel how rough my fingers are on your slippery lips
I all but throw my hand down there, sobbing with relief. I’m even wetter than I thought, but it serves as the perfect lube to touch myself. I’m so keyed up that I know if I touch my clit, I’ll detonate.
The lights and the fan in the bathroom shut off. It’s pitch black in the room, silent, save for the almost silent buzz of the air conditioning. The door swings open. It smells fresh and damp, like shampoo and body wash and something uniquely male.
Elias walks past my bed, just as I accidentally brush my clit. I bite down my lip, holding in the moan that wants to spill over. It becomes a whisper or a squeak instead.
