much as I’m loving this”—I wave a finger, indicating her boner-inducing lingerie—“I want to see you.”
All of a sudden, her back is to me again as she looks around her bedroom. Before I can ask what she’s doing, she rushes off, out of sight. A few seconds later, she’s back with the chair from her bathroom’s vanity. She positions it in front of her laptop, readjusting the camera once again, then mirrors my position.
Her hands go to her shoulders, fingers stroking across the bumps in her collarbone then traveling down to the top of the cups of her bra. Eyes locked on mine, her fingers dip, pulling the fabric down with them. Her breasts pop free, and with the bra left on, they are held up, on display as if to say Yours for the taking.
She takes a moment to tease the peaks of her nipples before running the flats of her palms down her toned stomach to the bows holding her panties together.
My eyes follow their path, my breath getting stuck in my throat as I watch her deftly untie the four bows. Since she’s sitting, the material doesn’t fall away on its own. Instead she twirls the black fabric around her pointer fingers before dropping them between her spread thighs and exposing the promised land to my gaze.
“God your pussy is beautiful.” And it is. It’s perfect. It’s waxed bare, the lips plump enough to hide her clit behind them, and when they’re spread, she’s the prettiest shade of pink. I become damn near poetic when it comes to her naked body.
“Your mouth is so dirty.” Her eyes are back on the hand stroking my cock.
“Isn’t that the point of phone sex? The dirtier the better?”
“True.”
“Touch yourself, babe.”
“Tell me how.” Our gazes meet again. The flush on her chest tells me she’s no longer nervous and is as into this as I am.
“I get to direct the show?” A new surge of desire goes through me at the prospect.
“This is supposed to be one of your Christmas presents, so it only seems fair. Tell me how to touch myself.” Her tongue licks across her top lip. “Like you would if you were with me right now.”
God her words… For someone who, just a few moments ago, was unsure of how to do this, she’s sure off to one hell of a start.
My voice pitches low and gravelly with want as I issue my instructions.
“First…I want you to slowly run your hands up your inner thighs.” I swallow thickly as I watch her follow my commands. We’ve barely gotten started and I’m about ready to blow my load. I squeeze the head of my dick to hold myself in check. “Next, using both hands, gently open your pussy lips so I can see your clit. I want to see how swollen it is already.”
Again, there’s no hesitation in her actions. I think I could get used to this phone sex thing.
Her clit is swollen in a way that tells me it’s not going to take much for her to get off either.
“God I wish I was there so I could take your pleasure button into my mouth.”
“Pleasure button?” She lets out a broken laugh.
“What? Can’t we have a little fun while we do this?”
“No it’s fine. Just don’t go calling my pussy my lady cave or anything.”
“I love when you say pussy, baby.” I give her a wink. “Now press on your…pleasure button”—I emphasize my new favorite term for her clit—“with two fingers of one hand while using the other to squeeze your tit the way I know you like.”
She may be smiling from our joking, but she does what I say.
“I’m surprised you didn’t call them my fun bags or something.”
I let out a bark of laughter. This may be one of the most asinine phone sex sessions in the history of phone sex, but it is pure us. I wouldn’t change a thing about it.
“They are fun,” I tease. “Especially when you’re on your knees in front of me, squeezing them around my dick while you lick the head of my cock.”
“Don’t you mean your love stick?”
“Please don’t call Casanova my love stick. It’s bigger than a measly stick anyway.” Yes she nicknamed my dick after my own nickname around campus. What of it? She picked it, not me.
“Okay…love trunk. I’ll call it LT for short.” Her words break off on a moan.
“Whatever you say, Skittles. Now focus. I want you to imagine I’m there with you.