His mouth hovers near my ear, not touching, but close enough to send a shiver straight down my spine.
“You’re irresistible.”
The word hits hard, knocking the air from my lungs.
My fingers fidget in my lap, worrying the lace as heat curls tighter through me. “Only because you’re obsessed with me,” I tease, though my voice comes out softer, breathier than I intend.
“Maybe,” he murmurs, shifting just enough to bring more of him into frame.
“Or maybe,” he continues quietly, his eyes locking with mine through the camera lens, “because you’re exactly what they’ve been fantasising about.”
The camera catches his shadow behind me, the way his hands brush against my waist, just enough to send sparks through me. I shift, letting the robe fall open a fraction more, teasing the lens.
“The chat likes this,” he whispers. “They’re ready for more.”
Lurker69:Show us her tits.
AdamsLadder:I’m so fucking hard.
I glance at him through the mask, heat curling fast. “I don’t know… do you think they deserve a little treat?”
His grin is wicked. “They’ve been awfully polite.”
He leans forward, face brushing against my neck, murmuring encouragement as I slide my robe off. The bra underneath barely contains me, straining against my tits, leaving them spilling over, teasing, and unapologetically exposed.
JimsCuntDestroyer:Make her suck your dick.
AdamsLadder:Fuck, that would be hot.
MistressE:Such a pretty sight that would be.
My pulse spikes at the idea, and a single shared look through the camera screen is all it takes for us to move in sync.
Matt adjusts the phone on the tripod, angling it lower, catching the sight of me on my knees. Then he’s looming above me—close, commanding—his deft fingers freeing his cock to my hungry gaze.
With one hand firm at the back of my head and the other stroking himself, he guides the tip to my mouth. I open without hesitation, lips parting as he presses in.
In the background, I hear the steady chime of tips rolling in, the chat surging faster, but it all fades. All I can focus on is him. The weight of his cock filling my mouth. The solid heat of his thighs beneath my palms as I brace myself. The taste of him on my tongue.
Matt groans softly, low and rough, one hand tangling in my hair while the other slides down my body. His palm cups my breast through the lace, thumb rolling over my nipple, twisting, pinching until I’m a mess of needy sounds around him.
“Fuckkkk,” he groans. “Just like that, baby. Such a tight little hole for me.”
The approval hits me harder than anything else, an aphrodisiac that has me aching, desperate for more friction, moreanything. As if he senses it, his grip tightens. He draws my head back just enough to look down at me.
Even without seeing his face, I know the expression behind the mask is pure sin.
“Do you need something?” he asks softly. “Hmm? Is that needy little cunt of yours empty and aching?”
The words drag through me, lighting me up from the inside. I don’t hesitate and I don’t overthink.
“Please,” I breathe. “Touch me. Fuck me. Anything—just give me something.”
His answering sound is low, dark, and satisfied.
“Anything, huh? How about this?”
He slips his foot between my thighs—leather boots still on, solid and unapologetic—and cocks his head slightly, like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do with it. The invitation is unmistakable and a challenge I rise to without hesitation.
