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By her silence, I could tell she'd done it. Probably more than once. Maybe she'd done it just last night.
"Grab your hairbrush," I urged. There was a faint rustle of clothes on the other end, then some moving around. I stroked my cock in a slow steady rhythm as I listened to her.
"I have to be quick," she mumbled.
Quick, so she doesn't get caught by her boyfriend. The thought should've pissed me off, but it didn't. If anything, it made my cock harder. Would she fuck him tonight, after she got off the phone with me? If I drove fast enough, I could stand outside her window and watch.
"Okay," she breathed, pulling me from my thoughts. "I have it."
"Good girl. Send me a video of you sliding it inside you."
"We'll have to hang up," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper.
"Do it, Winona. Then call me back." I didn't let her get another word out before hanging up.
I tried not to stroke myself too hard or fast, wanting to prolong this feeling a while longer. Anticipation welled inside me. I wanted to see her pussy stretched around the handle of her brush. I wanted to fuck my fist while imaging it was my cock deep inside her.
It felt like hours passed before my phone dinged and I got the video. My heart was in my throat as I unlocked it and opened her messages. Then there she was, her naked body sprawled out on her bed, her legs spread apart, and her nightgown rucked up around her waist.
The handle of the brush was surprisingly thick as she teased her little clit with it, her breathing growing harsher. I spat into the palm of my hand before I started fucking myself harder, not holding back. My fingers turned white around my phone as I watched her slide her brush lower, enticing the tip into her entrance.
A gasp escaped her as she pressed it inside. She moved the camera closer, letting me watch her little pussy spread apart to accommodate the wide girth. I would've never believed sweet little Winona Beckett would send me dirty photos and videos, but by the way she clung to me, clung to my words, I knew she was desperate. Desperate for love or attention. I'd give her both.
She slid the brush further in, moaning at the feel. My toes curled at the sound, at the way the camera shook as she slowly pumped it in and out. Her small whine filtered through the speakers—the same sound she’d made right before she came earlier. Was she already so close? She was such a sensitive little fawn.
As she moved the brush faster, inadvertently showing me exactly how fast and hard she liked it, the video cut off. My balls were tight, and my spine tingled, ready to come. But the abrupt end to the video—not seeing her come, not hearing her sweet sounds—edged me harder than I’d ever been edged before.
I pressed the call button, stroking myself harder. She picked up on the first ring, already breathless. “You stopped the video too soon,” I ground out.
“You didn’t say how long the video had to be.”
“Brat,” I grunted, resting my head on the back of the couch. “Fucking brat. You’ll pay for that.” A soft giggle escaped her, and I groaned, my eyes rolling back. “Are you still fucking yourself?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Get your brush and fuck yourself until you come.”
“But—”
“Rub your clit. I don’t give a fuck. I just want to hear you come for me.”
Lifting my feet, I planted them on the coffee table and spread my legs wider as I listened to her make herself comfy on the other end. Her breathing faltered, and I knew she was touching herself again.
“Such a dirty fucking girl,” I mumbled, my grip tight around my cock. “Sending those photos to your professor. What would the Dean say if he found out what a slut you were?”
“Emmett,” she whimpered, but the sound was secondary to the fantasy playing out in my head.
“You’d want him to bend you over his desk and spank your little ass while I watched, wouldn’t you? Then he’d shove his cock inside you, but you’d stare at me the whole time.”
God, I could see it in my mind. The way she’d have tears of embarrassment in her eyes. The way her body would jolt with every punishing thrust. I’d sit across from her, watch as he fucked her for being such a filthy girl.
Another soft whine left her, and I stopped stroking long enough to put it on speaker and rest my phone on my chest. Reaching down, I cupped my balls with my other hand, still fucking my fist in harsh movements.
“I can’t believe you fucked yourself with your hairbrush,” I muttered. “Who does something like that?”
“You told me to.” Her voice was small, breathless, but I didn’t care.
“And you did it,” I chuckled. “Such a dumb whore.”
