Page 85 of Champagne Fizz

He groans so loudly my whole body shivers.

“You think about me naked?” I ask tentatively.

“I can’t stop imagining it,” he admits, and his words are tongues making my core spasm.

“Okay wow,” I warn, my voice hitching. “I’m already close, Simon. Are you—?”

“Don’t worry about me, Sunshine.” He uses the nickname he gave me the other day. “Hearing you is going to send me over the edge anyway.”

“Okay,” I say nervously, lying back on my couch—naked—and running both of my hands down my stomach to my legs. “Should I, uh …? Do I describe what it feels like to touch my body?”

“If you want to,” Simon replies. “Or you can just let me listen to the sounds you make. And you can listen to me. We don’t have to talk. Do what feels good, Sunshine.”

“Everything feels good, Simon.” I tease my kneecaps with my fingertips. “Everything you did in your car … your hands on my—” I look down at my perky breasts standing at attention, wishing Simon’s fingers were teasing them again, wondering what Simon’s mouth would do if it covered my aroused flesh. “Simon, hearing you breathe has me wet.”

“Mmmmm, Kendall,” he moans. “Trust me, you’re doing the same to my cock.” He grunts hotly, and I imagine he’s touching himself. Maybe I should ask. But I decide to close my eyes and match his breath instead.

“You drive me wild,” I whisper, letting out a moan as I dare to open my legs. I slide my palms down the insides of my thighs, thinking about what it would feel like if my hands were his. “I’ve never wanted to give in to this kind of desire before.”

“Submit to me, Sunshine. However you want to touch your …” His voice trails off, replaced with soft noises, beautiful noises that grow deeper and more vocal. He was quieter when we were in the back of his car, but now he’s starting to sound more desperate—more out of control.

Oh gosh! Was he holding himself back when we were in the car?

Suddenly I’m imagining him less patient—clutching my hips, hot and hungry—fucking me.

“I— I—” My voice is thick. “I want to say naughty things, Simon, you sound so—”

Beautiful? Sexy? Fuckable? I moan instead, my inner muscles clenching.

“You can say whatever you want,” Simon encourages. “There’s no wrong way to do this. Whatever gets you hot.”

“I’m already so wet I don’t even need to touch myself.”

He groans.

I trace my fingers over Lady Lada’s slickness, softly ghosting over my own skin. Sweet sinful—! Lady Lada starts to tremble, forcing me to pull my fingers away so I don’t blast off too quickly.

“There’s all these naughty things I’m imagining,” I admit to Simon. “I can’t think about the photo you sent without—without imagining all the other things I want to go with it.”

“Tell me what you want to go with it,” Simon whispers.

“I—I can’t. It’s too dirty.”

“There’s no such thing as too dirty, Kendall. I’m in my office right now stroking my cock, looking at your photo, and dreaming about coming on your perfect, creamy tits.”

A pounding jolt spasms between my legs. “Simon! That’s so—”

I didn’t expect him to talk dirty, much less for it to get me more excited.

“You just heard yourself, right?” His voice gets sexy and low. “You’re turned on by the idea of me coming on your tits, aren’t you?”

I gasp again.

I am.

“I— I—” A primal noise escapes from my throat; a yes to his question, but in a different language.

“Tell me the dirty things you’re imagining, Kendall,” he demands, and he says my name with such power my thighs shake. Oh wow! I want him barking orders and dominating me. I want him taking control.

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