And then nothing but ghost dots.
Come on. Don’t be shy.
Okay
I call, and she picks up immediately.
“Hello.” Her voice is low, almost a whisper.
“Why are you whispering?” I ask, but lower my voice to mirror hers.
“Long story,” she answers, her voice still low. I’m relieved she doesn’t elaborate while I’ve got my hand around my dick.
“Are you standing in front of the mirror?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Naked?”
“Yes.”
What does she look like, standing there? Her long brownhair falling in wild waves, framing her round tits. Her nipples ready to be ravaged.
“You need to be my eyes. Tell me what you look like.”
“Umm … which part?”
I know where I want to go next…
“Slide your hand down and open your slit with two fingers. Look at yourself.”
Her breathing intensifies on the other end.
“Keep going.” I’m nearly growling. Stroking myself slowly, I imagine her looking at herself in the mirror, biting her lip like in her photo. Is she all pink and swollen already? “Tell me about your pussy.”
She huffs. “I’m not used to dirty talk.”
“Do you mind it?”
She pauses for a beat. “No,” she sighs. “I’m so turned on. So wet.”
I sense she’s not one for describing herself, but I picture her glistening and ready for me.
“Touch yourself the way you like to be touched. Tell me what you’re doing, what you feel.”
“My fingers glide over my … clit?” She makes a small huffing sound as if embarrassed to say the word out loud. “And down to my opening. It’s so tender. I like moving my fingers up and down slowly, pretending it’s you.”
“Good girl, keep going,” I rasp, and she mewls in response, which makes it hard for me to focus. I’m sure she can hear my breathing is more laboured now.
“Are you touching yourself, Robin?” she asks, whispering now, and I hear rustling, maybe of a sheet, like she’s moved to the bed. “Thinking of me?”
“Yes,” is all I manage, and I take a deep breath, holding on longer. I can normally go for as long as needed, but she’s really got me hot. “Slide your fingers down to your opening,” I tell her.
“Mmm,” she moans, and I love that I can do this to her with just my voice.
“Mmm, indeed, let those fingers slide just inside you. Then up again to your clit and back down. It’s my tongue tasting you. Lapping you up. I want to have you in my mouth, Alice.”
“Yes,” she whimpers. “I’m close.” I picture her on top of a white bed, hair fanned out around her, and her hand moving faster and faster, her legs widening as she nears the edge.
