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“Oh, you work with your hands then,” she replies with a flirty smile, and I hate myself for the grin that stretches across my face. “Do you have someone in your life? A spouse or significant other?”
Nope.
“Why not? A good-looking body like I saw last night. You should be out there with a real woman, not here with me.”
I guess I’m like you. I can’t connect to real people.
Her expression morphs into a pout, but not a fake one. She looks genuinely sympathetic.
“When was the last time you had a girlfriend?”
A long time,I reply.
She wouldn’t believe me if I told her how long. But I’m strangely comfortable in this chat and feel the urge to tell her more. Or everything. Maybe it’s the anonymity, but I want to spill secrets to her that my own best friend doesn’t know. And I almost do, but then I realize that this is Mia, and if she ever finds out who is on the other end of these calls, she’ll know everything about me, and I’ve worked too hard and too long to keep them hidden. Especially from her.
But there are a few things I can give her.
This probably won’t come as a surprise to you, but I prefer to watch.
Seeing her read my messages is enough to drive me wild with the way her expression changes as she reacts to each one. It’s more enjoyable than I expected it to be. Mostly because this is Mia, and I am still drunk on the idea that she can be so open and sweet.
“Well, you did more than watch last night,” she responds with a laugh. It’s more natural than the one I’ve seen on her livestreams. More the real Mia.
Yes, I did. You caught me at a weak moment.
She laughs again. “It wasn’t that hard to convince you, Drake.” The tone of the conversation grows quiet and a little serious as her eyes drift downward, away from the camera. “Do you usually watch more than you partake?”
Yes.
“Would you rather watch me…or touch me?”
Fuck. This took a turn. A good turn, but not where I was expecting it to go. Or maybe I was. Maybe this is what I’ve been trying to get out of her this entire time. More of her. More vulnerable, naked, splayed out like a meal my eyes can devour. I’m sure as fuck not turning back now.
I’d love to fucking touch you.
When her hooded eyes lift to the screen, she reads my message and bites her bottom lip. “Okay, then. Touch me,” she replies, and my brows furrow. As she reclines on the bed, adjusting the phone so it’s hovering over her—the same way I wish I was—she gently glides her fingers over the front of her body. She’s still in that bikini top and those jean shorts, and my mouth is watering with the reminder that she’s just upstairs. And any moment now, I’m going to have that view I so desperately wanted.
“Pretend my hands are yours. And tell me what to do with them,” she says in a low, sultry whisper. “Touch me, Drake.”
Fuck me.Fuck me for using mygoddamnfriend’s name, when all I really want is to hear her say mine.
In fact, fuck all of this. If I’m going to tell her what to do, it’s going to be my fucking voice. I quickly hit the microphone button and do my best to lower my tone and keep it at a gravelly mumble.
“Slide off your bikini top. One side at a time.”
She smiles at the camera, her cheeks turning pink at the sound of my voice. “Oh, hello there.”
“Do it,” I mutter.
Her fingers gently pull the right triangle of fabric down, revealing her soft pink nipple, the bud already taut and ready.
“Pinch your nipple. Just until it hurts. I want to hear you whimper.”
She licks her lips, her chest growing heavy as she does. Sliding her fingers over one breast at a time, she twirls the sensitive bud in between her finger and thumb, and I watch her face for the moment the pain kicks in. A high-pitched moan slips through her lips, so I know she’s reached that point.
“Keep one hand there. Let the other slide down slowly.”
My cock is leaking in my shorts as I watch her touch herself, moving at a deliciously slow pace as she drags her fingers over her belly. And when she reaches her shorts, I tell her to unbutton them. The other hand is still working on her breast, squeezing and pulling enough to keep her at the precipice of pain and anticipation.
