“I always knew you’d be pretty, beautiful even, but sexy? God damn, Eisley.” I laughed dryly and began to pace her basement. Boxes of old clothes and gardening books sat all along the walls. “You’re a fox.”
“And you’re a ghost, apparently.”
I was still wearing my mask.
“Do you like it?”
Silence, and then again, a whisper. A confession.
“Yes. Although your username could be better.”
“You don’t like it?”My cock pulsed in my jeans. God, how I wanted to touch her. There was a long pause.
“I never thought you were a monster.”
You would now.
I changed the topic.“A little birdie tells me your cherry is still intact. Is that true?”
“I—Yes. I just couldn’t…”
“Without me?”
She sighed. “Without you.”
“You saw the news,” I said, not asking.
“I did. How?”
I ran my hand along my chest, feeling the long, thick scars under my shirt. “It’s a long story, but, as it turns out, dear old Dad was right about some stuff.”
“Constantine,” she sighed.
“I’ve seen your website, Eisley. Do you strip for those men? Do you film yourself touching yourself for them?”
“Not even once.”
“Why not?”
“They pay me enough just to talk to them.”
Lies. I’d seen some of her more risqué ones. While she never showed nipples or her pussy, she sure moaned a lot while rolling around in lacy nightgowns.
“And if someone paid you more?”
“How much more?” she purred into the phone.
Oh, that minx.
“I’d love to watch you take a cock between your full lips,” I confessed.
“Yeah? Which ones?”
My cock was now at full mast. The image of her sitting on a fake cock and working it like a real one made my heart palpitate.
“You’re a tease,” I chastised.
“What are you going to do about it?”
