My head lolls back as I do it again, not quite ready to dip my fingers in, spread my legs for the disembodied voice.
I want him to think I’m hot, though. Wonder if he’s got his pants unzipped in the car or wherever he is.
Wonder if he’s hard watching me.
“You like that, daddy?” I moan softly in the dark, wanting to hear him answer back.
I pinch my nipple, rubbing it around in my hands as my fingers play on the edges of my slit.
My phone dings.
I grab it before I can catch myself, leaving a trail of wet across the screen.
Unknown:Turn around.
I lean over the coffee table and jump when my breasts—unsupported except for the little scraps of fabric—brush the cold glass top.
“Like this?” I moan, spreading my legs.
I reach back with one hand, spreading my ass, rubbing my pussy, imagining it’s him there with those thick gloves, spreading my pussy, that heavy breathing on my swollen pussy lips.
I give in, stroke my fingers all the way through my wet pussy, curl them around my clit.
I moan and pant into the phone speaker. “How’s that, daddy?”
God, I’m losing my mind.
But I need the release. I’m so fucking horny.
Unknown:I have one more surprise for you. In the liquor cabinet.
Every step I take is torture as the string pulls in my swollen pussy and the lace rubs across my sensitive tits.
There’s an appreciative sigh from the phone when I kneel down to fish in the back of the cabinet.
A long wooden box.
Fingers trembling, I unlatch it, tamping down the rational part of me.
I pour some of that cognac that Fitz was drinking earlier.
Swallow it, burning my throat.
In front of the window, I slide the lid of the box back quietly.
There’s a thick dark rod.
No, a dildo.
Shit, that’s big.
There’s another typewritten note inside.
Let me see how well you can take a cock.
P.S. Mine’s bigger than this.
I bite back a moan as I lift the heavy plastic out of the box.
