A wave of relief washes over me. He knows how I feel about being watched when I sleep. I know it’s stupid to be grateful that he didn’t put cameras in my bedroom when I should be livid that he has them in my house at all. But honestly, this could be fun. He’s in Mexico. That’s a long way from here.
Me:
Where are they?
E:
Foyer, living room, kitchen, study, laundry, and by the back door.
Me:
So if I’m sitting on my sofa, you can see me?
As I wait for his reply, I walk into my bedroom. Rummaging through my drawers until I find what I’m looking for.Perfect.
E:
Yes.
After changing into a little white silk slip, I remove my panties and dig out my trusty vibrating friend. I message Emmanuel on my way back out to the living room.
Me:
Are you the only one who can see? Is anyone else watching this?
E:
You think I’d let other people look at you? Fuck no. It’s just me.
Me:
Good. You might want to tune into the living room. I hear the show’s about to start.
I leave my phone on the counter and walk out. I don’t want to be distracted by his messages. I want toshow him that I own my pleasure. Screw him and the whole bullshit thing with him being the only person that can pleasure me. I’ve been doing it a lot longer than he has. Sure, he might be better at it, but I’m good too.
I plop down on the sofa and look around the room. I have no idea where the cameras are located. It doesn’t matter, though. He said he can see me. With my vibrator in one hand, I lie down and pull the straps to my slip over my shoulders, just enough so that my breasts tip out.
I cup one of my breasts with my free hand while the other moves south. I let my legs fall open as the vibrator reaches my core. Then I switch it on and close my eyes. The first thing I see is him. Emmanuel. His smirk, that one dimple I love on his cheek. Then it’s his eyes. Dark, full of lust and sinful promises. The way Emmanuel looks at me—like I’m something special—that’s what gets me every time. I’ve had men look at me with desire. But with Emmanuel, it’s different. It’s not just desire. It’s like he needs me as much as I need him.
I squeeze my eyes closed tighter, rubbing the vibrator over my clit before moving towards my entrance and pushing it inside. My teeth bite down on my lip as I smile. The thought of him watching me do this is making me wetter. I start to pump thevibe in and out. Slowly at first, but it doesn’t take long for my speed to increase as I chase that peak. I picture Emmanuel fisting his cock, his hand wrapped around the base. I can see my name on his wrist as his hand slides up and down.
Damn it. Now I want to taste him. Feel him fill my mouth.
I imagine myself on my knees, his hands wrapped around my hair as he feeds me his cock. I greedily take all of it, every single inch he gives me. I can taste him. I can feel his warm spurts down my throat as he fucks my mouth. That’s when my orgasm hits me. My thighs clench closed, my pussy contracting around the vibrator.
When the last of the pleasure leaves my body, I open my eyes, disappointed when I don’t find Emmanuel staring back at me. Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that.
Standing on wobbly legs, I fix the straps of my slip and make my way back into the bedroom. Swiping up my phone along the way. It’s ringing, and I’m not at all surprised that it’s him on the other end.
I decline his call and turn on the shower. I can’t stop myself from looking around the room, searching for cameras. Of course, nothing stands out, so I message Emmanuel again.
Me:
Did you put cameras in my bathroom?
E:
Answer my call and I’ll tell you.
