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“Show me those tits,” I growl, getting carried away as I stroke my hand up and down cock.
The motion of her hand stops. She frowns at the camera.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I… I don’t think I want to do that. Not until we’ve… well, seen each other in person?”
My chest gets tight at her questioning tone, as though she doesn’t have the right to state what she wants.
“I know it’s hypocritical,” she whispers. “You sent the photo, but I don’t know. This is all new to me.”
“New to you, how?” I say.
“I’ve never… Well…” She picks up her phone. No big deal, okay? But I’ve never done anything sexual. I’ve never even kissed anybody. I told myself that stuff wasn’t for me. So it’s all new to me.
“You’re a virgin,” I whisper, balls aching, cock gleaming with precome now. A droplet falls to the bathroom floor.
“Yeah,” she says. “Is that… okay?”
“Keep rubbing your pussy for me,” I snarl. “You don’t have to show anything you don’t want to, but make those tits shake for me.”
“L-like this?” she whispers, shifting her hand underneath her shorts again. It makes me think of putting my hand down there and feeling her warmth, her young, inexperienced slit getting even hotter as I stroke her.
“Yes,” I groan.
“Are you…”
“Yes,” I almost shout. “I’m rubbing my hard dick. We’ll do it together. Keep rubbing that pussy for me. Fuck. My cock is so hard for you.”
“Like the photo?” she whimpers. Her confidence seems to grow the more excited she gets. Now that she’s mentioned it, I can hear the novelty in her voice—the new excitement like this is a big adventure we’re embarking on together.
“Exactly. Keep rubbing your slit. Your tits are shaking so perfectly.”
She rubs her hand quicker, shifting around beneath her shorts. The sexiest part is her face, her cheeks blazing red, her mouth open in shock. She’s struggling to hold the phone. The screen’s light combines with the lamplight, bouncing off her full tits.
I stroke harder, quicker. I’m captivated. She’s getting closer and closer to her finish. She’s trembling all over. I almost roar as I feel the seed rushing from my balls into my shaft to my tip. It presses against it, but I somehow hold it back, hovering in intensity as I watch her.
She melts for me. She sinks into the bed, squeezing her legs together. Her moan is sassy and confident, and then she gets quiet like she can’t produce any noise. I groan as the orgasm shakes the bed, come surging up my dick, exploding out of my end and spattering the sink.
“Ah, ah,” she whimpers and removes her hand, picking up her phone. Did you… you know?
“Say it. Ask me with your voice.”
She sits up. Her flush has spread down her neck, over her tits. Even with the tension released from my dick, I’m still ready to take her. “Did you finish?” she whispers, averting her eyes.
“Yes. Just for…”
Just for you. Only for you, but I can’t go that far.
“Just for?” she says.
“It’s nothing.”
What a lie. An evil one. It’s the opposite of nothing.
“Are we going to see each other in person, do you think?” she asks.
“It’s complicated,” I reply.
“Complicated how? Oh, wait a sec. Shoot. Mom?”
Quieter, her mother’s voice responds, “Who are you talking to, Katy?”
CHAPTER 13
Katy
My underwear is still sticky, and my thighs ache, especially my inner thighs. At the end, waves and waves of pleasure were bursting through me. At the very end, the climax crashed into me, and it felt as if his hands were smoothing all over my body. I could feel his hard torso, his muscles, his massive cock, and the end dripping with lust. I know he’s still watching, but I’ve got to act normal.
“I was watching a TV show, Mom.”
I don’t enjoy lying to her, but how can I explain this? Plus, a guilty voice whispers, it’s not like she’s never lied to me.
“I thought I heard you speaking with somebody.” I say nothing, not wanting to lie again. After a pause—I think she’s waiting for me to speak—she continues, “Well, as long as you’re okay?”
“I’m good, Mom.” I pick up my phone and shoot a text. Could you give us a minute? She doesn’t sound great.
Of course, Sam replies.
I grab a hoodie from the chair and pull it over my head. It’s oversized, covering my shorts too, and I wonder if Sam’s still watching, but I asked for privacy. If he were watching, that would be bad, right? I know the logic is solid there, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking of his eyes locked on my legs.
Opening the door, I catch up to Mom as she walks down the hallway. “Are you okay?” I ask.
She turns sharply. She’s showered and tied her hair up, looking more alert than the last time she got sober, two years ago. That was a week-long stint, but, to be fair to her, that was without this place. The comfort. The security. No music thudding through the walls.
