Page 93 of Meet Me at Midnight

ElizaBeth: What underwear?

ThunderStruck: Fuuuck, June. You know what? I think we should scrap the message idea and you come over here instead.

ElizaBeth: No way. I’m already excited about touching myself while you tell me what to do.

ThunderStruck: You’re a danger to society saying shit like that. Fuck. I might burn this building down just so you have to go outside.

I giggle. But my body also burns with anticipation as I take off my clothes and slide under the covers of my bed.

ElizaBeth: Tell me what to do, Beau.

ThunderStruck: You’re naked?

ElizaBeth: Yes.

ThunderStruck: Wait, give me a minute to join you.

I listen to him moving on the other side of my wall until the noise stops, and I know he’s there, on his bed. My mind instantly envisions him with his hard dick in his hand and, at the visual, a deliciously deep throb pulses between my thighs.

ElizaBeth: Are you hard?

ThunderStruck: It should be illegal to be this hard.

My cheeks heat and my body hums, and I fist my comforter with my left hand while I send him another message with my right.

ElizaBeth: Tell me where to touch myself.

ThunderStruck: Start with your thighs. Just barely touch yourself, enough to tickle, sliding your fingertips up until you get to the center. Don’t touch too much, though. Just a tease.

I do as he says, my head falling back with a thud against the wall I know he has to hear.

ThunderStruck: Are you wet, baby?

I touch myself, right there, just barely, my index finger sliding lightly through my arousal.

ElizaBeth: Yes.

ThunderStruck: Good. Add a little pressure, then rub your clit in a slow circle. Let me hear you.

I do as he says, moaning when the pleasure from the touch to my clit runs up my spine and down to my toes.

ElizaBeth: It feels too good.

ThunderStruck: My cock is so fucking hard for you.

As if that message wasn’t enough to push me closer to the edge, the second one seals the deal.

ThunderStruck: Put your phone down and stick two fingers in your wet pussy. And rub yourself faster while you use your fingers as a replacement for my cock. I’ll stroke and listen, I promise.

Exhaling a deep breath, I set the phone down like he says and concentrate on touching myself. Two fingers of my right hand inside, I stroke at the inner wall while circling my clit with the fingers of my left. I thought it’d be a cheap excuse for Beau’s real touch,for Beau’s perfect cock, but I’m so fucking turned on, it doesn’t even matter.

I groan as my pleasure builds, and I hear Beau curse on the other side of the wall. I imagine his strokes moving faster up and down the hard length of his cock, and I have to lick my lips to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head.

“Beau,” I moan softly, keeping my voice at a level that I know Avery won’t hear from her bedroom, and the sound of him groaning spurs me further.

Faster and faster, I spin my fingers around my clit and stroke myself inside, my head rocking against the wall as I climb toward my climax. It feels almost impossibly good.

I come with a small shout, and he follows shortly after, the sound of his muffled, “Fuck,” vibrating all the way through my chest. I lie there for a long moment catching my breath, and from the lack of movement on the other side of the wall, I suspect he’s doing the same.

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