They’ve been texting all evening, teasing, playing, promising, and now all her people are in bed. When she looks at her phone this time, the message simply says, “Call me. Now.”

So she does, curled up in the big chair in the lounge, comfy and relaxed. Headphones on; she knows she’ll need both hands.

When he answers, it’s like the relief of cool water on a hot day. His voice flows over her, clearing her mind. This is what she needs.

“It feels like forever,” she whispers.

“I know,” he replies, his voice also quiet. “Life just gets like that sometimes. I missed you.”

They are both silent for a minute. It’s like they’re breathing in sync, taking each other in.

“I want to be touching you,” she breathes, “want to be feeling you. Everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

“Everywhere.”

He says, suddenly remembering, “I dreamt about you last night.”

“You did?” she asks, intrigued. “What did you dream?”

“You were on your knees in front of me, hands behind your back, looking up at me. I was teasing you with my cock. You were desperate for it in your mouth, but I wouldn’t quite let you. And then when I finally slid it between your lips, you licked and sucked and took me so deep.

“I let you play for a while, and then I slowly began fucking your mouth. I was holding your hair, pulling gently, guiding you just the way you like. When I couldn’t take any more, I pulled you up, turned you around, bent you over the bed, and slipped straight inside you. You were so hot and wet and tight around me.”

He can hear her breathing becoming slightly quicker as she listens.

He pauses. “And then I woke up.”

She laughs, quietly. “That does sound like a good dream. What do you think would have happened next?”

“Oh, I’d have fucked you until we both came. Slipped a hand round to tease your clit so I could feel you clenching around me as your juices flooded me, and that would have sent me over.”

“I’d have needed to feel you cum inside me. Hot, and spurting, and filling me, until you just collapsed on top of me. I would cum so hard on your cock, feeling that.” Her voice is breathier now, she’s almost moaning the words.

“Are you touching, now?” he asks, hoping desperately that he’s right.

“Yes,” she admits.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Just a t-shirt and panties. Red lace.”

“Stroke through your panties,” he commands, “I don’t want you touching properly yet. Can you feel how wet you are through them?”

She moans softly. “Yes.”

“Use the fabric. Rub it over your clit. I want those panties drenched.”

She obeys, holding the material taut and skimming it through her swollen, wet, folds, brushing the tip of her clit, increasing the pressure until the slick evidence of her mounting need covers the scrap of lace and cotton.

“Fuck, I’m so wet for you. Please may I touch properly?”

“Slide your hand inside. Little circles around your clit. Not touching it, just around.”

She follows his instructions, gasping as her fingers part the folds of her labia, feeling the heat and wetness at her centre.

“Now down to your entrance. Not inside, just teasing. Stroke. Back to your clit. Tighter and tighter circles. Side to side, over the tip. Slowly…”

He can hear from her breathy moans that she’s close already.

“Slower. Lighter. Just tease. You’re not cumming yet. Gently. Imagine it’s my fingers. Two fingers, one on either side of your clit. Just stroking down the sides, squeezing so lightly. Hardly moving. A little more pressure. Rubbing. I know you’re so wet.”

He can tease her like this forever, moving from her clit to her entrance and back again, edging her until she screams, never quite giving her the release she needs.

“Move back down to your entrance for me. Dip a fingertip in. I know you’re soaked. Rub that wetness over your clit. Round and round… increase the pressure. I want you begging to cum.”

“Please… fuck. Please!”

“Not yet. Back down. Stroke around your entrance. Not inside. Just around. Feel how desperate you are.”

Her moans are frantic now, she’s incoherent. He loves knowing he can get her to this point and she’ll still obey; she won’t cum without permission.

“Slide one finger inside. Tell me how it feels.”

“Fuck. Aching and desperate and needing you. Empty and needing you to fill me. I want your fingers inside me, stretching and moving and fucking me. I want to hold your wrist and grind onto you, and feel you so deep inside me that I know I’m just going to explode any second. I need you so much. More… please?”

“Good girl. Slide another finger in. Feel the stretch. Curl them up, like I would. Find that spot and press.”

She obeys, feeling the sudden gush of liquid releasing as her fingers find that magic, melting spot. She’s not cumming, but she’s so close and ready.

“I’m not ready for you to cum yet,” he reminds her. He knows her so well, knows she’s hanging on by a thread now.

“You know if it were my fingers inside you, I’d take you right to the edge and hold you there. Stretching you, filling you, moving faster and faster… then slowing. Bringing you down, stroking gently. Just keeping you right on the verge of cumming. But not until I’m ready.

“I’d move your hand to my cock now. Wrap your fingers around it, and stroke it with you.”

“Mmmm,” she purrs. He knows her fingers have slowed in time with his instructions, and she’s holding herself there just as he would. She’s such a good girl.

She takes the narrative. “I so want to be stroking your cock as your fingers move inside me. Holding it, feeling it hard and thick in my grasp. Rubbing my thumb over the tip, feeling the precum, knowing you’re desperate to be inside me. Moving my hand up and down as you throb and jerk in my palm. Your hand over mine, showing me just how you like it.

“Sliding my other hand under, to cup your balls. Weighing and squeezing so gently, feeling them heavy and tense.”

“Fuck.” He’s groaning now, his hand moving firm and fast as he grips his cock, imagining it’s her small fingers wrapped around him, stroking him closer and closer to release.

“I’d be moving my fingers faster inside you, knowing you’re so fucking close. Then I’d stop for the last time, hold your hips and lift you onto me, so you sink down onto my cock.”

“I need that so much,” she moans. “Please…I need to cum on your cock like that… now…”

“I’m cumming with you,” he promises, and the thought of that is exactly what she needs to tip her over.

“In three…” he grits out. She loves hearing the desperation in his voice, even as he still controls her.

“Two…” he continues. Her fingers are moving faster now, in and out, slick with her juices, the pressure building unbearably.

“One…”

She’s there, right at that sweet point of release.

“Now.” He groans. She can hear the satisfaction in his voice and knows he’s spurting, as he would inside her, still moving, pumping every last drop out.

His word is her trigger. She reaches the peak and lets go. Her orgasm overtakes her and she whimpers, wishing she could be louder, grinding on her hand, eking out every last second of pleasure as her juices splash out around her fingers. He can picture her, legs spread wide, fingers moving as she writhes, moaning softly in bliss as she finally gives in to the pleasure that he grants her.

“I need you to be holding me now,” she whispers.

“I know. I would be. Tucking you into me, feeling you shudder out those aftershocks, my cock still inside you as you keep clenching just a little bit. I’d be stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. I’d hold you until you sleep.”

“I wish you could. I’d sleep all night like that.”

“Go to bed now. Sleep. Dream of me.”

“Yes Sir. Call again tomorrow?”

“Of course.”