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“You gonna let me see you tonight or not Sandy?” he asked, his voice a warm rumble through my headphones. “Sandy” wasn’t my name – not even close. It was something he’d taken to calling me as a play on my username, and damn if the sound of it didn’t send a shiver up my spine that landed right between my legs.
“Patience. Aren’t I worth that to you?”
He chuckled. “That and a helluva lot more.”
Warmth settled over me. And a feeling akin to… relief. I pulled open the drawer again, withdrawing a bottle of Creed cologne that I spritzed in the air, filling the room with the sensual, masculine scent. I inhaled a deep breath, and then let out a deep sigh.
“I wish I never told you what I cologne I wore, woman.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, and smiled back. “Why is that? And how did you know?”
“Because you always make that same sexy little sound when you spray it. I’m jealous of your ability to set the mood. I only got a small bottle of your Tom Ford, and haven’t replaced it yet.”
I laughed, then bit my lip, buoyed by the visual of his dick getting harder. I’d done that to him… just my laugh. It had made him twitch, and now he was rising, and growing, right before my eyes.
“Sounds like a personal problem to me, Wick. Shouldn’t be so damned cheap.”
“Or maybe… your tastes shouldn’t be so damned expensive.”
This time, I rolled my eyes a little as I laughed. I didn’t know very much at all about the man I referred to as “Wick”, but one thing I knew was that money was no problem for him. Even though he would talk in slang, and drop a few ‘g’s’ here and there, his grammar and diction spoke to being well-educated. High-quality camera, the expensive watch he was wearing on the days he was still dressed from work, and the gorgeous park view that came in little peeks from behind him… whatever woman he had in his life – in hisreallife – was undoubtedly well taken care of.
My hand curved around my wireless mouse, and a few clicks later, I was live on screen. My nipples beaded all over again, responding to Wick’s groan of approval.
“Perfect,” he murmured, but the thickness of voice, and the way his hand moved down to grope his dick said much, much more. He’d never explicitly asked, but his reactions over time told me that he liked me in white, and that’s what I was wearing. A simple cotton nightie that molded around my breasts, so thin that the deep chocolate of my nipples against my honey-toned skin showed through.
“You were already undressed,” I whispered, cupping my breasts in my hands. “What were you doing?”
“Working, since I couldn’t sleep. Let me see it.”
My legs spread like they had a mind of their own, and the hem of my gown inched up my thighs. I lifted it up to my waist, scooting to the edge of my seat to give him a better view.
“Open for me.”
My hands went between my legs. I was already wet, so my fingers slipped and slid as I parted my lips for him, so he could see all of me, like he always wanted.
“Get some of that sweetness on your fingers so you can play with it for me.”
A little grunt of satisfaction escaped my lips, just at the instruction. Fatigue laid heavily on my body and mind, but I did as he said, dipping my middle finger into my opening for wetness, and then pressing it to my clit. A little jolt ran through me as soon as I touched myself, and Wick’s hand closed tighter around his dick. I started moving my hand. Slow circles, heavy pressure, and I didn’t hold back a single sound.
Every hiss, every moan, every contented sigh, he wanted to hear it, so I gave it to him. I smiled athissharp intake of breath as I started rolling my hips to meet the pressure of my hand. I shifted, massaging my clit between my forefinger and thumb. I whimpered at the change in sensation, and Wick sat up a little straighter.
“Does that feel good for you?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Show me those pretty nipples again. Give them some attention.”
“Mmmhmm.”
With my free hand, I pushed the straps of my gown off my shoulders, and tugged the soft cups away from my breasts. I cupped one in my hand and squeezed, letting my thumb and forefinger follow the natural course of slipping over my areola and moving down to curve around my nipple.
“Do it harder.”
“Ahh,” I cried softly as I rolled my nipple between my fingers, pinching and squeezing as pleasure spiked between my legs. I closed my eyes as my hand and hips moved in furious circles, faster and faster as pressure built in my core. Layer on layer, higher and higher, until it overflowed, and I came, with a high-pitched whimper of delight.
“There you go,” Wick murmured in my headphones.
When I peeled my eyes open, I was rewarded with a sight I’d been craving since I sat down. He’d finally lowered his boxer briefs, and his dick was beautiful. Not massive, but long and mouthwateringly thick. The same gorgeous chocolate tone as the rest of him, nicely veined, and surrounded by a thick patch of neatly trimmed dark hair. He had his big left hand cupped around it – no ring, not even a tan line – and it was glistening in the glow of his screen as he stroked himself.
