Her breath catches, her hand skimming up her side before disappearing under her shirt to cup her breast.
“Let me see all of you, baby.”
She removes the shirt, and then she’s naked in my bed. Her nipples pebble. She sucks a finger into her mouth. And fuck, my movement picks up without my permission, imagining it’s my cock surrounded by that wet warmth. She pulls it out with a wet pop, circles one nipple with it, then the other.
I spit into my hand and return it to my dick.
“Are you wet for me? Touch yourself and tell me.”
She does. Her fingers disappear between her thighs as she moans. I can’t look away, don’t want to blink, stroking myself in time with her movements, wishing it was my hand instead of hers.
“I hate that I can’t touch you.”
“Tell me what to do,” she gasps.
“Slow. I want you to go slow.” I adjust my grip, matching my own pace to what I’m asking of her. “Circle your clit.”
She whimpers, her hips lifting off the bed.
“That’s it, honey. Just like that. Wish I was there to taste you.”
“Me too,” she pants.
“Imagine it’s my tongue instead of your fingers. If I were there, I’d fuck you with it, lick you clean.”
Her hand moves faster.
“Slow down,” I say through clenched teeth, fighting my own need. “Not yet.”
She moans in frustration but obeys.
“Good girl. Now, slide a finger inside. Tell me how wet you are.”
“Dripping,” she breathes. “God, I need?—”
“How tight is your cunt around your finger, baby?”
Her gaze meets mine through the screen, and she mumbles something incoherent.
“I know what you need. Add another finger. Fuck yourself with them.”
Her back arches, her fingers work. And it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“How do you feel?”
More words leave her mouth, but now they’re muffled by the pillow.
I speed up my own movements. “I want to watch you come apart. What do you need?”
“Tell me—” she manages through a hitched breath.
My girl loves to fucking please.
Precum gathers at my tip and slides down my length.
“Come for me, honey.”
She does, my name torn from her lungs, and I follow seconds after.
