Her breathing grows even more ragged, and I increase the pace and pressure as I jerk myself off. “Please, Logan,” she groans.
“You need to play with your clit?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely. Use all three fingers and rub your clit. Gently. Not too much pressure. If I were eating you out, I’dstart with gentle little flicks of my tongue. Get that clit nice and swollen. Make you writhe on the bed and beg for release.”
Fuck, the pretty mental picture I’m painting has me painfully hard, and the base of my spine stiffens.
I’m not going to last long.
When Blair’s breathing speeds up, and I get my own under control, I give her my next command. “Now I want you to play with your clit for real. Pinch it, rub harder. Are you getting closer?”
She gasps. “Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck. Me.
I pull back on the pressure I’m using, because those breathy words have me close to blowing.
“You’re such a good fucking girl, aren’t you? God, I bet your pussy is so wet. Hold the phone down by your cunt, baby. I want to hear how wet you are.”
“W-what?”
“You heard me. Don’t make me wait.”
“Fuck. You’re filthy. Fine.”
My chuckle dies in my throat when I hear her touching herself. The sounds playing through my phone are downright pornographic, and I’m ten seconds away from coming. I wish I was there. Wish it was my tongue or my fingers causing those sounds.
“Shit. Blair, phone back to your ear,” I say loudly enough that she has no problem hearing me. Even still, it takes her a moment to pull the phone back. Judging by the quick, ragged quality of her breathing, she’s just as close as I am. “Is your clit swollen? Are you needy? Does my greedy angel need to come?”
“Yes. God, stop teasing me and make me come.”
“Mouthy, mouthy.” I tug harder on my dick, the muscles in my back and lower stomach tightening. “But I’m close, so I’m going to let you come.”
“My hero,” she snarks.
My laugh is cut off by a grunt as I fight to keep myself from exploding all over my hand too soon. “Shut that pretty mouth and fuck yourself. I want those fingers pumping in your pussy while you grind the heel of your palm against your clit. Because if you were talking to me like that, I’d be slamming my cock into that soaking wet pussy and fucking you hard and fast.”
“Oh,” she moans.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to hold off. “That’s right, angel. Take it. Take those fingers and pretend they’re my dick stuffing you full. You’re so pretty writhing underneath me, impaled on my cock.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” she chants. “I’m gonna?—”
“Yeah, you are. You’re gonna come. Right. Fucking. Now. Cream my cock, baby.”
She cries out, the sound muffled, probably by her own hand, and that’s all it takes. I moan, long and low as the pressure builds to unbearable levels. Hips jerking, I pump myself harder, faster, and grunt when I explode all over my hand and my stomach, the sound of Blair’s little whimpers still filling my ears.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan, giving myself a few more lazy strokes. “Was that good?”
“Uh-huh.” She’s breathless and her voice has that faraway quality I’m starting to love because she only sounds that way after she comes. “So good. Wish you were here, though.”
“Me too.” And I do. There’s a part of me that resents my success in this moment, because it’s keeping me from her. We have games tonight and tomorrow. We may be off the twenty-fourth through the twenty-sixth, but they always pack the days leading up to the break with games.
