Page 94 of Only With Me
It was impossible not to be turned on as she obeyed my commands. The more she followed instructions, the harder I got. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced on the phone.
She was so eager to learn and do as I say, my cock was nearly busting through my zipper by the time she was finger-fucking her pussy and telling me how wet she was.
I couldn’t get enough of it.
Between talking her through it and hearing her breathy moans, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I lowered my jeans and stroked my shaft until I came all over myself at the same time she finished.
I doubt she noticed though since she’s never been with a guy to know how badly I was struggling to speak. I had to put her on mute for a few seconds so she didn’t hear me.
However, I am surprised she didn’t call me out for calling herbaby. That slipped out by accident but she didn’t seem to notice.
Even though I have no claim to her, I hate the thought of her talking to other guys. She sees me as a friend, ateachereven, but I know if she knew I was the guy from the group chat, she’d think differently.
The more I think about last night and how easy it was talking to her, even before we got on video chat, the more I realize I want to do it again and that I want her to do that only with me.
Instead of getting ready for work like I normally would after my alarm goes off, I decide to shower and deal with this erection that won’t go away. Thinking of her first thing in themorning has my cock hard and needy. The last thing I should be imagining is her in my bed or how I’d worship her body and take her virginity—but here we are—jerking off in the shower to those very thoughts.
As I fuck my fist to the memories of her soft whimpers and her telling me exactly how it feels, the tighter I squeeze. The tip is red and desperate, badly needing a release, and my thighs burn with tense muscles. I flatten my palm against the wall, aggressively abusing my cock, and come harder than I have in years.
Except this time when I moan through my release, it’s with her name on the tip of my tongue.
Harlow: I have a sex question.
The corners of my lips curve up when I get the notification she’s messaged me through the app.
I’ve been off work for a few hours and sitting on my couch with a beer trying to come up with any reason to message her first.
Thank God she doesn’t overthink like me.
Waylon: Okay, shoot.
Harlow: Do men think scars are gross? I’m concerned mine could turn someone off during sex because they’re on my upper thighs, the sides of my chest, and abdomen. Granted, most are faded, but if their faces are all up in there, it’s likely they’ll see or at the very least, feel them.
The fuck?Who made her worry about that?
Harlow: Also, Happy New Year’s Day! Hope you got a little sleep after waiting up for Wilder. Delilah told me she didn’t get home until almost four-thirty.
The drastic change from one message to another gives me whiplash, but I send her separate replies anyway.
Waylon: First, any guy who comments about body scarring is a piece of shit and shouldn’t be anywhere near your naked body anyway. Second, if they can’t understand the trauma you went through and how you survived against many odds—again, they shouldn’t be anywhere near you.
Waylon: Also, I got about five and a half hours, so about normal. How about you?
Harlow: After the first and unarguably best orgasm of my life, I slept for nine hours.
Fuck me.
Harlow: That’s a relief to hear. It was just something I was thinking about and wondered if I should warn a guy first. Like a piercing…I’d wanna know if they have a Prince Albert ring beforehand.
Waylon: Did you Google that?
Harlow: Yep, after Natalie mentioned the various piercings men can have down there, I got curious.
Of course she did.
Waylon: And did you look at the images?
Harlow: Unfortunately, yes I did.
