“Are you touching yourself, little bee?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “Are you?”
“Fuck yeah. You think I wouldn’t be after you say your hand is on your pretty pussy? God damn, woman.”
He doesn’t know it’s pretty. But maybe I could show him?
“Do you want to see?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” he huffs irreverently.
Giggling, I pull down my sweatpants and panties, then bend my legs and spread them. I slowly push a finger inside, pretending it’s that gorgeous cock of his stretching me. Then I pull it out halfway, enough for the light of my flash to catch the shine of slickness. I take the picture and send it to him quickly, before I change my mind. Sending nudes to a stranger off theinternet is the definition of insanity. But I’m too freaking horny to care.
“Fuck, Barbara,” Seb hisses. “Are you fucking that cunt pretending it’s me?”
I hear the wet slap of skin that lets me know he’s jerking off hard, and I moan in response, my finger now strumming my clit, chasing an orgasm.
“Ah, shit, little bee, moan for me again,” he commands, and I instantly obey, not holding back any sounds as I bring myself to the edge, listening to his heavy breaths.
“I’m close,” I admit in a squeaky voice. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten myself this close this fast without a toy before.
“Fuck, me too, firecracker. I’m gonna come all over that wet pussy of yours. Mark it as mine. My fucking territory. Mine!”
His words should scare me. Instead, they make my eyes roll to the back of my head as I arch up and come with a long, low whine, waves of bliss spreading through every muscle.
“Barbara!” Seb growls, then lets out a delicious, deep moan that makes me shake harder. I love it when a man isn’t afraid to show it feels good.
There’s nothing but our heavy breathing for a few minutes. It doesn’t feel awkward, or long, or lonely. We’re coming down from a high together, even though we’re apart.
“That was amazing,” he whispers eventually, making me shiver. “I came all over my stomach.”
I can’t help but moan again at the visual. “I wish I could lick it off,” I say just as quietly. It feels so intimate, our own little bubble of post-coital bliss.
“You’re gonna have your fill, trust me, baby,” he says. It feels like a threat, but not one I’ll shy away from. I want that dick in my mouth. But I’m too afraid to suggest we meet up. What if he says no? What if I’m disappointed? I’d rather stay delusional fora bit longer. Maybe he can get me through Emily’s wedding, then I’ll ask.
“You should go to sleep,” Seb suggests a while later, after we’ve talked about everything and anything, the banter as easy as when we’re in game.
I didn’t even notice how late it got. Unbelievable.
“I guess so,” I reply with a yawn. “Talk to you tomorrow?”
“You will. And, Bee? Thank you.”
I flush at his words. Did he just thank me for an orgasm?
“You too,” I mumble, then say my goodnight.
After peeing and brushing my teeth, I change into my PJs and get under the covers. It’s then I notice a notification from Venmo. I gasp loudly.
“Two thousand fucking dollars? He’s insane!”
The message reads:
For the dress. And the shoes. And the necklace you’ll wear while thinking of me.
I’m in so much trouble with this man.
6
