“Good girl. If we were on a video call, what would you do first?” he asks thickly.
I scoot back, until I’m leaning against the headboard, on my pile of pillows he loves to hate on (hah! Bet you’re not gonna hate looking at them tonight, buddy!), back from where he’d co-opted them in the playroom, and I spread my legs to give him a view up my skirt.
“I’d start by touching myself,” I tell him seductively, holding his eyes with mine.
I grip the toy in my left hand, where it’s waiting to report for duty, and bring my right hand up to my neck and let it trail down, teasing myself, touching ever so lightly down, down, down my body, across my chest and over my breasts.
His heavy breathing is the only sound, aside from the rustle of my clothing as my hand wanders, teases.
The tip of my finger scrapes my right nipple, which is already pert and waiting for attention, and the way that one finger feels through the silk of my shirt and the lace of my bra is insane. A shudder runs up my spine at the sensation, and my fingers continue their trek down before running over the softness of my belly and down in between my legs.
“Take off your shirt.” His order interrupts the journey.
I glare at him, already ready for where this is ending up and not needing much foreplay to get me there right now. Still, that look in his eyes is hot, and the better of a show I put on for him, the more it’ll torture him, and I have to keep my eye on the goal here. So I follow his demand, peeling the silken, eggplant, sleeveless number over my head and dropping it to the floor next to me.
His gaze trails down to my breasts, supported by some pretty expensive lacy lingerie that’s worth every penny if this afternoon reminds him who the fuck he married.
The fire in his eyes as he looks over my breasts sends a wave of desire through me that has me holding back a whimper, and I feel myself slicken even more between my legs. I rub my thighs together on instinct, the insistent throbbing driving me crazy, and tease him some more by pulling my skirt up, up, up a little higher until he has a clear view of my underwear, which are so fucking wet he can probably see it from where he’s sitting.
Good. I hope his dick gets so hard it hurts.
“Goddamn, Di,” he breathes, his eyes glued between my legs. I can see the bulge thickening through the material of his charcoal pants, tenting them in a way that makes my mouth water.
“Are you just gonna watch?” I mock him, wishing he’d take off some of his clothes and give me a show, too.
His trademark smirk makes an appearance, and he whips his shirt off in no more than three seconds. My breath catches when his hands move to his zipper, and I take my underwear off while he removes his pants and dark gray boxer briefs before resuming his position, seated across from me. Now I have a pretty clear view of just how much he’s enjoying this, and fuck if that doesn’t get me even hotter.
I’ve seen a fair few dicks in my day, and though it’s only been this one for me for more than a decade now, I still appreciate that his cock is on the larger end of all the ones I’ve been with. Even still, it looks longer, thicker than usual tonight, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected by that visual.
My voice drops at that sight, desire I can’t hide lacing every syllable. “I wish you were here,” I tell him, bringing his eyes back to mine and feeding into the fantasy of this being Skype sex.
“Yeah?” I can feel the single husky word against the lace cupping my breasts, the throb in my clit as it pulses in tandem with my heart, almost as if there’s a phantom mouth against all the parts that miss him the most.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Because then I could have the real thing instead of this imitation.” I turn on the toy, which makes a humming noise, and bring it between my legs and to my entrance.
“It’s been so long, and I just want to feel full, Chance.”
I know I have him at this, and I try to hide my smile as he licks his lower lip and watches me push the head of the toy into my center, slowly, one inch at a time.
My back arches immediately, and an involuntary noise leaves my lips at the feel of it, the way it’s stretching me as it goes.
My husband’s eyes are locked on the show in front of him, the way the toy disappears inside of me as he watches. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was no one in the world he wants more in this moment, based off the look in his eyes alone.
But I do know better, and I don’t fall for it. Remind myself not to buy into it, not to let myself get hurt again already.Too bad, Chance. You aren’t getting this any time soon.Can’t even keep the salt out of the voice in my head when we’re on the hottest date we’ve had in recent memory, apparently, but let’s set that aside for now.
“Show me how wet you are,” he breathes.
A lewd sound comes from between my legs, the suction as the toy goes in, and is pulled out. His nostrils flare at it, eyes fixed to my hand, what it’s holding. The thing wavers in the space between our bodies, on display for him, covered in my juices that he hasn’t touched in so long.
He licks his lips. “Fuck, that’s a good girl, Di. Got that pussy all fucking wet for me, and I’m not even there to take care of it for you.” My back arches at his gravelly words, a fresh rush of desire hitting me. “What would you do next?”
“I’d fuck myself with this thing, imagining it was your dick.”
His pupils flare and that masculine groan nearly does me in, but I stay strong.
I start to work the vibrator in and out of myself, pretending it’s as good as he would feel, and relishing in the feel of the thick hardness, something I’ve been missing for far too long.
I put on a bit of a show for him, because he should know what he’s fucking missing, and groan audibly as it hits a spot that hasn’t been touched in way too long.
