Miles wraps his arm around himself, tucking his face to the side, as if I were there.
“Are you wearing any clothes?”
His eyes snap open and he laughs. “What?”
I chuckle. “You heard me.”
He doesn’t reply.
I tilt my head. “Answer me. Are you wearing any clothes?”
He bites his lip, cheeks turning a little red. I take that as a no.
“Touch yourself for me.”
“Jordan.”
“Please? We both need this.”
Miles doesn’t look away, his face saying he agrees with me.
“Touch yourself,” I say again. “But imagine it’s me.”
“Will you—”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
We both lie down, phones propped against pillows like we’ve done a thousand times before. But the cameras are on our faces, not our bodies.
For now, anyway.
Miles reaches for his glasses. “I’m nervous. Why am I nervous?”
“I don’t know. I kind of am too. But you’re the only one I’d want to do this with.”
I curl one arm under my head, lying on my side with one knee bent up. My dick is not on board with this yet, but the urge isdefinitelythere.
“If you were here, what would you do?” I ask.
He grins a little. “Kiss you.”
I chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I can’t exactly kiss myself, babe. Tell me what you’d do to my body.”
He thinks about it. “Do you remember the first time we did this? Together, I mean. With the underwear?”
“I remember.”
“Can you trace yourself like that?”
I trail my fingers along my length, touching every sensitive place. “You doing it too?”
He bites his lip. “Yeah. Feels good.”
That’s an understatement. Pleasure tingles as I circle the head, flowing down the shaft in tiny ripples. I keep touching, keep focusing on the sensation. Imagining it was Miles, not me. It’s not hard to do, seeing his face. Watching him as he gets turned on.
“Touch your balls,” he whispers.
