Me:
You’re being a fucking tease.
The Asshole:
I am because you came to me for an orgasm. Not a random video, not a book—me.
Me:
I’m currently re-thinking that strategy.
The Asshole:
No, you aren’t. Squeeze that hand for me, and switch to the other breast and do the same thing.
The Asshole:
Slide that hand up to your throat, imagine it’s mine, and add just a little pressure.
Whimpering at the feeling, I’ve never been into the whole choking thing, but obviously that’s changed for me. I don’t even have the brainpower to text him back, but he doesn’t seem to mind as his texts continue to come through.
The Asshole:
Now, move that hand straight to your clit, circle it a few times before you pinch it, then tell me how wet you are for me.
I do as he says and then dip my fingers down to feel the slickness everywhere. I move my fingers up to spread it around my clit before I text him back with my other hand. One-handed texting has never been so difficult.
Me:
Too wet. It’s annoying that I’m this turned on.
The Asshole:
Fight it all you want, but I’ll still get you there and you know that. Dip those fingers down and get them nice and wet for me. Move them to your nipple and circle that wetness all around. Get them nice and hard before you pinch it too. Then switch to the other side.
Again, I follow directions like the good girl I am. He’s right; I’m fighting on principle only, but damn do I want this. I’ve never been this turned on while playing on my own. His words are doing all sorts of good things for me, and I really should stop fighting it. I’ll deal with how I feel about it all after the fact. Or tomorrow. Or never.
The Asshole:
God, I love your breasts. I wonder if I could make you come just from playing with them. Move that hand back to your clit and circle it nice and slow. Don’t go too fast.
Me:
Since when have you been a tits man?
I freeze as soon as I send it. Talking about the past, acknowledging it in any form is like eating the forbidden fruit. I don’t talk about it. And I just opened the crack on our past in a few mindless words.
Me:
Are you naked? Or is this one-sided?
There, redirection.
The Asshole:
I’m in the bathtub, so yes, I’m naked.
Mister “I only take showers” is in the bathtub? What the hell? Nope, not going there. I’m going to focus on his nakedness. His lean muscled body that his stupidSheriffshirts do nothing to hide.
