“What if I wanted to see them?”
Her brows shoot up, her cheeks pinkening. “Now?”
“Mm. I mean, always, but…yes. Now.”
I watch the flush spread from her face down to her neck, but she doesn’t look put off by it, no. Instead she looks…intrigued.
“That feels a little one-sided,” she notes.
I turn the phone to show her the bare expanse of my chest and legs, noting the soft sound she makes when she sees that I’m in nothing but my black boxer briefs as I lie on top of the covers.
“I am absolutely down with getting completely naked for you,” I tell her. “Just say the word.”
“None of that surprises me really.”
“It’s been killing me not to touch you these last couple days,” I admit.
Her eyes go hooded, her teeth worrying at the corner of her lower lip. “Yeah?”
“I haven’t thought about anything except you since we flew out.”
Her smile is slow—sensual, really—and I feel it all the way down to my cock.
“Hold that thought,” she says.
She leaves the frame for a second or more, and I can hear a rustling sound just out of view, but when she comes back, she’s still in my shirt.
“And here I thought you were going to take it off,” I tell her.
“And who says I didn’t?” she asks coyly.
She pans the phone down to give me a peek of her bare legs, my T-shirt just covering everything between them in a way that probably shouldn’t be as arousing as it is, but lights me the fuck up anyway.
I lean back into the pillows of the bed, tossing one arm over my head as I get comfortable. “And what did you take off?”
“Everything but your shirt,” she says, her voice a little huskier.
“Yeah?” I feel my cock starting to thicken in my boxer briefs as I imagine her pretty pussy bare and waiting for me underneath my shirt. “Fuck, I wish I were there.”
I can just notice her hand creeping out of the frame toward her thighs, and I watch as she throws herself back onto her own pillows. “And what would you do if you were here?”
“Anything you’d let me,” I practically pant. “Hands, tongue, cock…I’d touch you any way I could have you.”
“And if I told you I was touching myself and pretending it was you?” she asks breathily.
“Fuck, Abby. Please tell me you have a toy.”
Her eyes widen. “I do.”
“Get it. I want to see you work that pretty pussy for me.”
She makes a helpless noise, but then I see her roll to her side, rifling through her bedside table until she pulls out a purple toy that isn’t as big as I am, but just big enough for what I have in mind. It’s not shaped like an actual cock, but it’s longer with awider head. Just wide enough to hit all those good spots inside her while I watch. There’s a smaller attachment just above it, one that I assume is for working her clit.
“That’s perfect,” I hum. “Does it vibrate?”
She gives me a slow nod, her fair skin flushed fully pink now, like she’s either embarrassed or horribly turned on. I really hope it’s the latter.
“Are you wet for me, Abby?”
