I moan around the dildo, the sound muffled and wet. I watch the way his hands work him, the slow rhythm of the pump and the pressure on his knot.
His grip tightens. “Now, lie on your back, facing the camera. I want to see your pussy and exactly where I’m going to fuck you.”
Letting go of the dildo with a pop, I move the pillows to support my head so I can face the camera. I lie back and spread my legs wide for the lens. The cool air of the room hits my wet folds. I run the tip of the dildo between my breasts and down along my stomach to my thighs.
Friday’s hand moves faster. “In the house, I’m pushing you back onto the rug by the fire. I’m hovering over you, the heat from my body pressing you down. I’m going to slide into you and fill you until you can’t think about anything else. Follow me, Zo. Take it.”
I guide the slippery dildo to my opening. I slide the head in, then the shaft, gasping as it fills me. I slide it all the way in, the base pressing against me, creating a delicious, heavy pressure that makes me wish it was a knot.
His head falls back. “Faster, Zo. Show me how much you need this. Show me how much you want my cock.”
I pull the dildo nearly all the way out before plunging it back in with a wet, rhythmic slide, pumping in time with his. My other hand reaches down, my fingers finding my clit and working it in tight, frantic circles. I lose myself in the rhythm of his breath and the internal stretch of the silicone.
I watch him on the screen, his face tight with focus. A glistening bead of pre-cum leaks from his tip, catching the light as his hand continues its relentless rhythm over his long shaft. My mouth goes dry, then floods with saliva as I track the drop. I want to taste him.
My core clenches as the pressure reaches a breaking point. I squeeze the dildo as my fingers work my clit through the rolling waves of my orgasm. I scream, “Friday! Fuck, I want you for real.” I don’t look away, watching him as he reaches his ownpeak, his body tensing as ropes of cum spill from his tip, his eyes never leaving mine until the very end.
Friday cleans himself up with a cloth, his chest still heaving as he looks at the camera with a lingering lust. “That was... exactly what I needed. I enjoyed that more than I can say, Zo. I’m already looking forward to our next session.” He leans back, his breathing leveling out. “Do you feel more settled now?”
A smile tugs at my lips as the post-orgasm haze hums in my blood. “I do. Thank you, Friday. I can’t wait to see you again, too.”
He sits forward, his hand moving to his mouth.“Well, I hope to see you soon, Zo. Have a good day.”
I nod. “You, too. “
Reaching out, I tap the button to disconnect. The sudden silence of the penthouse isn’t heavy anymore; it feels like a clean slate. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and realize it’s already 7:00 AM. There’s no point in trying to force myself back to sleep now. I have a long day ahead of me; videos to edit and a stack of edited clips from Jules to review for the channel. TheRadiant Lifeaesthetic requires constant maintenance, and I’m already behind.
I lie there for a few more minutes, letting the post-orgasm relaxation linger.
The sudden chime of the elevator makes me jump. “Mail delivery!” A woman’s muffled shout comes from the foyer before the elevator door dings again.
I grab my silk robe and pull it on, my fingers fumbling with the belt as I walk toward the living area. No one stands in the small hallway.
A plain tan box sits in the center of the marble floor. Mailing labels stand out against the cardboard. I remember ordering several sets of throw pillows and decorative lights yesterday for the upcoming stream with my followers; we planned to decoratethe Nest together. Yet, this package doesn’t resemble an Amazon delivery. It lacks the familiar blue Prime-tape.
I kneel on the floor, my hands shaking as I pull the packing tape free. I lift the cardboard flaps.
Inside, nestled in black silk, lies a collection of high-end toys in their original boxes. The text on the packages says they’re for long-distance couples and connect via Wi-Fi. Next to them sits a pair of heavy, velvet-lined steel handcuffs with a small, sleek device attached to where a key would go to unlock them. The metal glints under the foyer lights.
A small white card rests on top of the cuffs. I pick it up, my heart thudding against my ribs.
I want to see you again soon. — Saturday.
Agasphitchesinmy throat, but it carries a spark of heat rather than dread. Saturday, the Alpha from the RAA. He utilized the gifting feature on the site. I remember the fine print of the contract now. The service allows Alphas to purchase gifts for their Omegas through a specialized logistics portal.
Saturday doesn’t have my address. He doesn’t even know my real name. The RAA team handles the shipping.
The realization sparks a thrill in my chest. He took the time to choose these. He wants to see me use them. I run a finger over the velvet lining of the cuffs. The material feels soft, a promise of comfort beneath the weight of the steel.
TheRadiant Lifebrand requires me to stay in control, to project a life of curated safety. But Saturday offers the chance to let the mask fall. He wants the submission I struggle to give anyone in the real world.
I carry the box back toward the nesting room. I set the package on the bed and open my laptop. The morning sun floods the room as I hit the button to open the curtains.
I log into the portal. Saturday’s profile sits dark, his “Away” status on. I navigate to the calendar feature. I want to ensure no other Omega occupies his time tomorrow evening.
I find his availability for the next evening and select the prime slot, the one that ensures the longest possible session. I confirm the booking; the notification appearing as a green checkmark on my dashboard.
Soon, I will have Saturday’s attention again. I want to see what Saturday has in mind.
