I’m damn good at it, babe. But I’d much rather talk you through it than text you through it.
I know I’m opening Pandora’s box, but the temptation is far too strong. Now that I’ve gone this far though, I sure as hell do not want to back out now.
Me
You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. Just tell me what you’re doing. I want to hear you.
For a moment, the three dots dance on my screen, teasing, leaving me hanging. And then she replies.
Harper
Okay. But you have to promise that you’ll keep talking to me.
I don’t even hesitate.
Me
Absolutely. I’ll be right here with you.
To my surprise, my phone rings. I wasn’t sure she would really do it, and though it’s not a FaceTime call, just hearing her voice makes me the happiest son of a bitch on the face of the Earth right now. “Fuck yes,” I murmur to myself before I slide my finger across the screen to answer her call.
“Harper,” I greet her.
“Harrison…” My name escapes her lips like a confession, barely audible yet unmistakably wanting.
I’m already strung tight, my body humming with anticipation as I hear the soft sound of Harper’s breath on the other end of the line. My pulse races even faster, knowing she’s about to let me in on something so intimate, so raw.
She whispers again, and it sends heat pooling low in my gut. “What should I do?”
Fuck, I can barely contain the rush of energy coursing through me. “Start by touching yourself,” I instruct, my voice dropping lower, thick with desire. “I want you to feel every inch of your skin, every curve, every sensitive spot. Just like I used to do. Let your hands explore.”
I can hear her shifting on her bed. There’s a slight hesitation before she asks, “Where?”
“Just go with what feels good, babe. Start at your shoulders, glide your fingers down your arms. Just like I used to do, remember?” The image in my mind of her soft skin beneath my fingertips is vivid. I can’t help but bite my lip as I picture her gently trailing her hands down her body.
Jesus I’m so hard.
The sound of her breath catches as she follows my instructions. My heart races. I need to keep her talking, keep her focused on the sensations I know she’s experiencing. “Now let your hands travel down your arms, slowly. Feel every inch, every curve.”
“Feels nice,” she whispers.
“I want to hear more of those sounds,” I say, my voice dropping low. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”
“Just a tank top and underwear. Nothing special.”
“Everything about you is special.” I grip myself through my towel, the fabric barely containing my hardness. “Take the tank top off, Harp. Free those beautiful breasts.”
There’s rustling on the other end, fabric sliding against skin. I close my eyes, imagining her bare shoulders, her breasts exposed to the cool air of her bedroom.
“It’s off,” she whispers.
“Good girl.” The words slip out naturally, and I hear her soft gasp in response. “Now touch them. Glide your hand over your nipples. Roll them between your fingers the way I would if I were there with you.”
“H…” Her voice wavers.
“I’m right here, baby. Feel how soft your skin is. How your nipples harden when you brush your thumbs across them.” I toss my towel aside, freeing myself completely, my cock springing to life against my stomach. “Are they sensitive like they used to be?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “So sensitive.”
