“I just got out of the shower and thought I’d read some more of your emails since no one is home.”
“Oh, yeah, which one?”
“I just couldn’t help myself,” I reply, diverting my eyes to my breasts. Using my shoulder to prop the phone to my ear, I cup my breasts, letting my thumbs roll over the sensitive nipples. When my head started to clear, and the depression eased up, my sex drive also returned. Not that it did me any good. My husband couldn’t take care of me and it was a job to find my vagina around my belly.
God only knows what it looks like down there.
I make a mental note to make a waxing appointment.
Shit, is that even allowed this late in pregnancy?
“Where are you?” he questions huskily.
“My bedroom.”
“On your bed?”
“Mmhmm,” I reply as I pinch my nipple and bite back a moan.
“What are you wearing?”
Between the sensation of the nipple play and the question, my pussy starts to ache. I haven’t come since Blackie finger fucked me in the visitor’s room and even then, it wasn’t enough. I came home and dreamt of him. He was everywhere. Teasing my tits and licking me between my legs. His thick cock fucked me until I screamed his name over and over. It was a fucking wicked dream. Deliciously wicked and oh, so vivid.
With the images of the dream flashing before my eyes, I take the phone away from my ear, putting it on speaker and shrug out of my robe. Wearing nothing but my panties, I slide my hands up my body, squeezing both breasts again. A whimper escapes me as I bend my knees and dig my heels into the mattress.
“Fuck,” Blackie growls. “Are you naked?
“I’m wearing panties.”
“Take them off.”
“But—”
“Now.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean you’re in a room where anyone can walk in.”
“Did you read the email yet?”
I glance at the laptop next to me.
“No.”
“Good. Don’t read it until we hang up. Now take your fucking panties off, Lace. I want to hear you come for me.”
There is an urgency to his tone that matches the one spreading through my body and causes me to hook my thumbs under the waistband of my panties. Dragging them down my thighs, I kick them the rest of the way. It’s not a pretty sight and the small task leaves me huffing out an exasperated breath.
“This isn’t going to work,” I complain. “My belly is too big. I’ve tried.”
“You’ve tried to play with yourself?” he whimpers. “God, do you have any idea how fucking hard my cock is imagining your body right now? Those big tits, that beautiful belly, and that tight pussy…mmm…if I was there, I’d fucking bury my face between those thighs and suck that clit of yours until you begged for my cock.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Touch yourself.”
There’s no use in protesting. I needed this as much as him if not more. I had to at least try. Scooting up the mattress until my back straightened against the headboard, I hiked my knees as high as I could and kept my feet flat against the bed. My fingers danced across my skin, rounding my belly, finding the soft mass of curls between my legs. I was so fucking wet and so sensitive. With one hand I began to stroke myself, paying extra attention to my throbbing clit.
“I’m not going to last long,” I murmur, furiously rubbing at the bundle of nerves.
“It’s okay,” Blackie replies. “As long as you go off with my name on your tongue.”
“It feels so good,” I moan.
“How many fingers are you using?”
“I’m just playing with my clit.”
“No, no, no,” he grunts. “Get those fingers inside that sweet pussy.”
Another whimper sounds from the back of my throat as I slide my middle finger inside. Needing more, I push my index finger inside too. My fingers slide in and out as my thumb finds its rightful place on my clit. Desperate, I quicken the pace, imagining my fingers are my husband’s cock. My head slams against the headboard as I lift my hips off the mattress and fuck my hand.
“You’re close,” Blackie hisses.
“So close.”
“Come for me, girl. Give me something to remember when I wrap my hand around my cock and imagine it’s your cunt.”
“Oh God,” I pant, envisioning him on top of, sucking my nipples into his mouth as he pounds into me. The orgasm hits me hard, lighting me up from the inside out and I cry his name as I come.
“That’s it, girl. Get it,” he growls. “Fuck, Lace, when I get home you’re done for. That pussy of yours is going to beg for mercy.”
“Promise?” I pant, stilling my hand.
“No more promises,” he murmurs. “Only actions.”
Silence passes between us as I come down from my orgasm. I remove my fingers and stretch my legs out. Content, I sigh and close my eyes. If he was here with me, I’d curl into him and fall asleep. Actually, I’d probably blow him, then fall asleep.
“I can’t wait for you to come home,” I whisper softly.
“Soon.”
Not soon enough.
“Baby, I gotta go,” he says hoarsely. “My fucking dick feels like it’s going to fall off. Read that email if you want a visual.”
“Hmmm,” I reply, opening one eye to look at the computer screen. “Am I going to come again?”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Stop talking.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Love you more.”
I don’t know who ends the call if it’s me or him, but as soon as it ends, I feel the loss of him. Too lazy to bother myself with the task of putting my panties back on, I reach for my robe. Sliding it back on, I tie the belt around my belly and pull the computer onto my lap. Waking up the screen, I settle in and read the email.
From: [email protected]
Subject: I couldn’t help myself…
Lace,
You just left a little while ago and I can still smell your pussy on my fingers. I know I told you I wanted to make it about you, that getting you off was enough for me. But, fuck, Lace, my dick is like fucking steel. Every time I close my eyes, I see you in that dress. Your tits in my face, our baby pressing against my stomach, and your pussy grinding against my cock.
You were so fucking wet.
So fucking perfect.
The scent of you filled every one of my senses. A perfect mix of your perfume, shampoo, and your sweet cunt.
I should’ve thrown you on top of the table and ate you. I miss feeling you come on my tongue. Instead, I fingered you, foolishly thinking it would be enough for us. But it’s never enough, is it? We fuck at our best when we’re pushing our boundaries, finding the balance between pleasure and pain. Next time I get you, I’ll be rough. Take you fucking hard until my dick bruises you.
I fucked my fist ten minutes ago.
I couldn’t help myself.
I’ll probably do it again.
Over and over until the scent of you fades from my fingers.
Until next time, girl.