Like the other night, her hand slides down and into her panties, dragging them down for a few seconds to give me a titillating view.
It is scorching. And I know I'm going to have to stroke off.
Shit.
I loosen my pants, freeing myself, but I like denial as much as playing games of control. And I also like some other shit I can't do.
But for now, this is perfection, and I text her.
Me
You're going to pay for this.
She smiles and strokes her clit. I can see her hand working herself again.
This is more controlled than last time, but I love the performative edge, the fact she is trying to wrestle control.
And I let her.
For now.
She texts me back.
Lola
Make me.
I grin and slide a finger along my hard cock.
She starts to work it, little flashes of her wet pussy, and then she starts to push her fingers into herself.
Her hand works her pussy, the movements ones I know, and she starts to work faster, her breathing coming in uneven puffs.
She is on the verge, I think, so I text her.
This time as myself instead of Alex.
Me
Lola, I will be in meetings all day tomorrow, so answer any calls that come through.
She jumps about a mile, and I circle my cock and start to pull, running my thumb through the precum.
Lola
Yes.
But then her eyes flutter shut, and I fucking know she is thinking about me—Enzo me.
Interestingly, even though she jumped, her hand remained, and it has been moving the entire time because she doesn't pick up the pace, instead, she goes with it.
Hard then soft...
I lock it away.
What the fuck is she thinking about? Me making her blow me at work? Bending her over my desk and fucking her ass? Boning her against the wall?
Shit, the possibilities are endless, and as I watch, she picks up steam as do I.
