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If I had a dick like that, I’d jack it off for strangers on the internet too.
My lips parted, and I moved closer to my screen, my fingers playing in the fresh wetness between my legs as I watched him move his hand over his dick.
“Hold on,” I whispered.
Wick chuckled. He knew what I was about to do. I reached into my drawer, pulling out a relatively new purchase – a dildo I imagined was the same size and girth as him. I rubbed coconut oil over it – he was using coconut oil as his lubricant too.
“Open your legs wide. I want to see this.”
I giggled a little. “I bet you do.”
My stomach muscles contracted as I pressed the dildo to my vagina and pushed it in. I moaned as it sank into me, stretching me, filling me up.
“Goddamn that looks good.”
I grinned at the screen. Wick was right. The deep, dark brown against the pink of my pussy was an extremely erotic visual. I stared at the feed from my camera as I moved the dildo in and out, matching a sight with an incredible feeling. My body clenched and complained, trying to keep it in as I pulled it out, then stretched and welcomed, hugging it tight as I pushed it back in.
“Feels sogooood,” I moaned, closing my eyes and leaning my head back as I pushed the dildo deeper, angling it toward the front of my vagina in search of a particularly sensitive spot. “I need to do it harder.”
“Do it.”
His permission had barely left his lips before I took advantage, fucking myself harder, and faster.
I opened my eyes so I could see him. He was keeping pace with me, his grunts and growls in my headphones making it feel like he was with me in the room. He had his hand gripped tight around his dick, pumping hard as he watched me. Every breath he let out, every groan, spurred my enthusiasm. Pressure started building in me again, but not like before.
This time, it started as a tingling all the way down in my toes, spreading over me. I couldn’t even keep my mouth shut, stuck in a steady loop of“Ahh, ahh, ahhhh, hell yes, ah, ah, yes”as pleasure coiled around me, laying heavy on my skin.
“Switch to one hand, so you can play with your clit. I want to see you come. And I want to hear it.”
I did it. I stroked myself as deep as I could with one hand, and pressed my fingers to my clit with the other, shaking it back and forth. My toes tightened and curled, thighs clenched, eyes crossed, eyelids fluttered as the orgasm hit me, snatching away my breath.
In my dark, empty, office I screamed, vocalizing my pleasure as my pussy clasped and throbbed, trying in vain to milk the dildo. Wick was in my ears, his breathing hitched as he jacked himself off. I was still coming down from my own orgasms, still flinching as residual waves hit me, but I forced my eyes to stay open. I watched, enthralled, as Wick nearly raised up from his chair, grunting and groaning in my ear as he came.
I licked my lips as thick, translucent semen oozed from his closed hand over the tip of his dick. Neither of us moved for a few moments, just sat there trading contented sighs as our breathing leveled out. After a while, I watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Wick pulled a towel from his own drawer, and cleaned his hand and dick.
“You feel better?” he asked, his voice a little rougher now, but still sexy, raw from the sounds we’d made.
“Yeah,” I whispered, hissing a little as I pulled the dildo out of me, wrapping it in a towel to take to the bathroom for cleaning. “Barely keeping my eyes open now.”
“Good. I’m actually feeling it a little bit too. Sweet dreams, Sandy.”
I smiled. “Yeah… you too. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I blinked, and he wasn’t on my screen or in my ears anymore.
I quickly logged out of the computer, and put everything away except what I needed to clean. I wiped down the chair, and closed the door to the office behind me before I made my way back through the dark to my bedroom.
There, I cleaned up, and then climbed into bed, relishing the feeling of cool sheets. I closed my eyes and turned onto my side, snuggling into my pillow.
Finally, I went to sleep.
The lack of sleep was getting to me.
I blinked hard, then rubbed my eyes before I leaned toward my computer screen, reading the same paragraph of email text for what had to be the third time. When the words started swimming together yet again, I gave up.
I clicked the button in my browser that would start my text-to-speech program. Reclining backward in my office chair, I closed my eyes, and let the program read the email to me. Apparently, my “Wicked Widow” collection was on thin ice after the “scandal” yesterday. Those posts claiming my products were ruining people’s nails had more than gone viral. They were fucking pandemic by this point.
