Page 84 of Take It Offline

He’s slow and tender as he teases my clit. I whimper. The shiver that passes through me is seismic, hitting at least an eight on the Richter scale, and tremors follow with every pass of his tongue.

Fuck.

I’m hungry. Starved. Eager.

And he’s feeding me.

“Charlie,” I whine, gripping the sheet. “Oh, fuck, your mouth.”

“Good?”

I’m panting. “You know it is.”

“Keep going. I like hearing you praise me.”

“If you even think about stopping, praise is the last thing you’ll get.”

He moans low, and it’s the last thing I hear before he fits the headphones over my ears.

At first, all I hear is my own breathing, heavy and slow, broken by little whimpers I swear I’ve never made before, and I’m suddenly glad for the mask. Heat races to my cheeks as I listen to myself, remembering the slow circles I drew around my clit last night.

Thank god I’m not a talker. Hearing my own voice played back to me might be a mood killer.

Charlie’s voice, though…

“Listen to you,” he purrs in my ears, clear as a bell and fucking sexy. “I bet you have no idea how many times I’ve gotten off to this.”

I want to try something,he said.Something I think you’ll like.

He’s right.

The Charlie in my ears groans, and the sound goes straight to my clit.

The whole point of this arrangement is to focus on my pleasure. But I can’t help it. I enjoy seeing my partner getting off. I love being the reason for it. The thick, hard outline of Charlie’s cock straining his pants has been on my mind since I first saw it.

I’ve imagined him at home, pulling his cock out, coming to the memory of me. It’s what I was picturing when I recorded myself.

The sound of his zipper is practically obscene. “Fuck,” he says.

A moan claws its way out of me, causing my back to arch along with it, because I can hear it, the slick slide of his hand as he strokes himself.

“I love hearing you come,” he says, deep and raspy, just like I knew he’d sound. I never want him to stop talking.

Fuck, I wish I could see him. I bet he’s huge. Long and thick. Powerful. How wet does he get? Is he cut? Does he like a full stroke, or does he prefer it fast with a twist over the head?

I bet he has a beautiful cock.

Pretty, like the rest of him. If any man on earth could have a pretty dick, it’d be Charlie.

I want to taste it.

“Fuck,” I gasp out, the sound muffled, overtaken by the Charlie in my ears, whose strokes are getting faster now.

The slick sound of him fisting himself is loud, but it’s the hitches in his breath, the whispered “ah, fuck” that sets me on fire.

Between my spread thighs, Charlie sucks on my clit.

I convulse with pleasure, pulling the restraints tight. I’m at his mercy, bared and open. He could do anything he wanted right now, and I’d be forced to take it.

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