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Alessandra sinks into her pillow, taking her laptop with her. “Yes, sir. Very, very good and frequent and highly effective use. Do you remember how I said I sometimes have trouble reaching orgasm?” She winks. “Scratch that. I’m a pro now, baby.”
Jesus. “Is that because of that video of me, or has something else helped you figure things out?”
“That video of you, plus other visual aids. Photos of you on the internet. Interviews of you. Music videos featuring you. Thoughts and fantasies I have about you, while I’m in bed and in the shower. All of it, used along with a few techniques I’ve recently learned, thanks to a really cool website.”
Eureka. I feel like I’m a gold digger who’s just hit the mother lode. “Tell me more about this website.”
“It has videos that help women figure themselves out. So, I watched a few things and realized what I’d been doing wrong. What I could do right. And, boom, practice makes perfect.”
Thank you, Kat.
Thank you, Georgina.
Thank you, Baby Jesus.
I take a deep breath, not wanting to let on how excited I am. How aroused and enthralled and hard. “What’s the website called? I’ll check it out.”
“Oh, no. It’s not porn. It’s for women to learn.”
“Yeah, but . . .” I trail off, not sure how to proceed. Obviously, I want to explain the big picture to her . . . The fact that, if this stuff works for her, then I should know about it, too. Duh. But we still haven’t gone there explicitly, and I don’t think I should be the one to kick open that door.
“What are you thinking, Matthew?” she says, sounding very much like a woman who’s been drinking some happy juice.
I pause. Weigh the pros and cons. And decide, fuck it, I’ll inch this conversation forward a bit. “I’m thinking I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you masturbate.”
There.
I said it.
That wasn’t pressuring her, right? She asked me what I was thinking and I told her one of my honest thoughts.
Thankfully, Alessandra doesn’t look the least bit upset with me. Only turned on. So I forge ahead. “I like imagining what your face looks like when you have an orgasm. I think about that a lot.”
Her nostrils flare. “I like imagining that very same thing about you.”
“Is that so?” I begin stroking myself slowly underneath my covers, well out of frame. “Good. Because now I’m imagining you imagining me. And that’s a turn-on.”
She smiles. “What do you picture when you fantasize about me masturbating?”
At her question, my cock jolts in my hand. I begin beating off a little faster. Breathing a little bit harder. “Um. Well, I . . . imagine you lying naked in your bed. I imagine your legs spread and your hand touching your . . . pussy.”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I imagine your bare breasts and hard nipples. Your eyes are closed. Your lips parted. I imagine your hair splayed on your pillow.” I swallow hard. “I imagine you moaning. And then, when you finally come, you scrunch up your face and kind of whimper and groan.”
“Oh, wow. This is a detailed fantasy. Are you there with me? Or just a fly on the wall?”
“I’m there with you now.”
“What are you doing?”
I can barely breathe. “Lying next to you.”
“Are you naked?”
“Is it okay for me to be naked?”
“Yes.”
“Then, I’m naked. Can I touch you?”
“Yes. Would you touch my breasts if you were here with me now, Fish?”
I literally convulse at the thought. “If you’d let me.”
Her breathing hitches. “I’d not only let you touch me, Matthew. I’d beg you.”
I let out a little moan and let go of my dick so I won’t jizz, right here and now.
“Alessandra,” I choke out. “You turn me on so much. I’m obsessed with you. Only you. I don’t think of anyone else.”
She moans, ever so softly, and it suddenly occurs to me . . . Holy fucking shit! I’m not the only one touching myself off-screen! Alessandra is doing it, too!
I decide to nudge her to confess it to me. “Can I make a confession to you?” I slide my hand to my hard cock again. “I’m touching myself right now.”
She flushes crimson. “Me, too.”
Bingo.
Arousal floods me in an overwhelming torrent. Pre-cum drips onto my hand. I can barely breathe. “Alessandra, will you make yourself come for me, off-screen, while I watch your face?”
She looks like she’s considering it. She whispers, “I don’t think I could get myself there, with you watching me.”
“No harm in trying.”
She licks her lips. Her breathing is heavy. “Maybe if you do it first? I’d love to see your face when you come.” She pauses. “But just your face, okay? For now.”
For now.
Hot damn.
This is an awesome conversation.
“Whatever you want. Are you sure about this? You’ve been drinking.”
She scoffs. “I’ve been wanting this since long before I took my first sip of champagne tonight. The champagne is only giving me the courage to tell you what I want.”
