This one is flagged differently. It takes me a minute to realize that it’s more than top tier… it’s a DM.
You know who you are.
I open it.
Something's different.
The frame is wider than usual. Not by much, but enough that I notice, and I notice everything about her content. She always shoots tight. This one has more room. She's standing instead of lying back, further from the lens than she ever is.
Dark at first. Low light. The sound of her breathing, unhurried. A woman entirely comfortable being watched.
She speaks.
Not the stream register. Something underneath it, looser and more private, and the familiarity of it pulls at me the way it always does. That voice I should be able to place. I let it pass. I always let it pass.
“This one's private,” she says. “Just for you.”
She steps back from the camera. She's wearing something.
Blue. Deep blue. Something expensive.
Her voice drops further. Low and direct. Talking to one person. Her hands move to the hem of what she's wearing and she pulls it over her head, unhurried, like she's done this before and intends to take her time.
I should close the laptop.
She drops the blue fabric off-frame. Underneath it she's wearing nothing. The wider frame gives more than she usually gives. The curve of her waist. Her stomach. The shadow between her thighs.
She reaches off-camera and comes back with her hand wrapped around a vibrator. Rose gold. Small. She handles it with the easy familiarity of a long acquaintance. She settles back against the headboard and spreads her thighs and takes her time about it.
“I've been thinking about you,” she says. “Specifically you.”
My hand moves to my belt before I've decided anything.
She's on my screen and right now the only one watching is me and I open my pants and take my cock in my hand and I don't pretend I'm going to stop.
She presses the vibrator against her slit and makes a sound. Small. Entirely real. Nothing performed about it.
I stroke myself slowly. Eyes on the screen.
She tips her head back. Her throat comes into frame, the arc of it, and something in that line pulls at me. Familiar in a way I don't examine. She makes another sound, fuller this time, and my grip tightens. I can hear her getting wetter. The vibrator shifting against slick skin, the particular sound of a woman who has been thinking about this before she turned the camera on.
She arches. She says something, a breath, not quite a word, and her hand works faster. I match her pace without deciding to. My thumb drags over the head of my cock and I think about replacing the vibrator with my mouth. Spreading her open with both hands and tasting her while she makes those sounds. I think about how long I'd stay there. Until she came at least twice. Until she was shaking and pulling my hair and begging me to fuck her.
I think about pushing inside her after. How tight she'd be. How wet. How the first stroke would feel after an hour of my mouth on her and what sound she'd make when I bottomed out.
My hand works faster. Grip tight.
She's close. I can hear it. The change in her breathing.That's it, just like thatand I —
The frame widens.
She tips forward toward the camera. Reaching for something. The angle shifts. The tight crop she's been maintaining opens up. And her face comes fully into frame.
I go still.
Freckles across her nose.
The line of her jaw.
