Mr.
Underhill: Where are you?
I thought
for a moment considering my answer.
Me: Home.
That was a
mostly truthful answer. Alex had the annoying but endearing habit of referring
to his suite as our home as if we were a couple of blissful newlyweds. I also
wasn’t sure I wanted him to know I was sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes
and pining for him like a lovesick teenager.
Mr.
Underhill: That’s a shame. I was imagining you naked between the sheets in our
king-sized bed.
Mr.
Underhill: Your mane of curls, wild and draped across the pillows. You open
that sinful little mouth of yours and slide your two middle fingers between
those gorgeous full lips getting your fingers wet and ready.
As if he
were texting me commands, I followed his instructions to the letter. The
thought of Alex in a room full of people in business attire while secretly
sending me all of his dirty innermost thoughts was making me hot and bothered.
My legs parted, and my newly moistened fingers caressed my opening, hot and
slick with my longing for him. My phone pinged again.
Mr.
Underhill: You’re parting the curls on those tender puffy lips so you can glide
your slick fingers over your aching swollen clit.
Mr.
Underhill: You’re using the other hand to caress those delicious tits. Pinching
those tender little nipples imagining they were my teeth. I wish I was there to
slide my tongue over those sensitive peaks feeling them stiffen under my lips.
I dropped
the phone and my back arched as I made circular motions with my fingers
satisfying the searing desire between my thighs, sliding my other palm over one
breast desperately, my body aching for Alex’s big strong everything. Whimpers
and moans provided the soundtrack for my full body writhing until I sucked in a
final gasp. Every muscle in my body was momentarily frozen after I tumbled off
of the cliff I’d driven myself to with my frenzied fingers and Alex’s filthy
words.
My limbs
felt heavy, my chest rose and fell as I drew in a deep lazy breath and my eyes
drifted closed. The drunk, heady feeling washing over me was amazing. My skin
shimmered and buzzed with a low electric current of satisfied pleasure, but it
was a distant second to the real thing.
My phone
pinged again.
I sucked my
middle fingers into my mouth savoring the taste of my need, briefly considering
sending Alex a picture of the aftermath of his text storm, but I knew better,
and he would know I was in his suite.
Mr.
Underhill: Goddess? Are you still there?
Me: Yes.
Mr.
Underhill: Where did you go?
Valhalla.
Nirvana. Paradise. Cinnabon.
Me: I was
in the bathroom.
Mr.
Underhill: (smiling devil horn emoji) I don’t believe you.
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