After not having each other for a few days, our desire was peaked up again. It never really ebbed down if I’m honest. Day two was already filled with naughty messages all day, at work and between things. Making messes in our underwear from how bad we want each other, from how much we tease each other, how much we edge together.

And after a long day… we got back into old habits. He started talking about what he desires… what he wants to do to me… how he wants me… And I grew hotter, some of the things causing my stomach to flutter and my cheeks to pinken up. I got shy… not knowing what to say. I couldn’t just repeat the same, my mind emptied, I just nodded along to signal that I want all of that too. And he kept talking about what he wants… only this time he changed the way he talked. From “I want to lick you and touch you” to… “I touch you.”

“Can you feel my hand slowly sliding between your legs…”

Yes… of course… the memory is so vivid in my mind, so engrained in my body. I could feel his fingers sliding beneath my panties.

“I can still feel your patch of hair…”

Of course I feel your fingers gliding down…

“You feel so hot…”

Of course I feel hot…

I was too shy, too overwhelmed perhaps, by the new turn and change of things. Already flustered by all the other things and compliments he made me, the vastness of his appreciation and endearment enveloping me and making me flustered, melting me through the screen that separates us. I couldn’t touch myself. To be honest, I didn’t want to touch myself. I wanted to savor the pulsating between my legs, the heat, the lightheadedness. I didn’t want to ruin the anticipation and the need.

So instead… he asked me to just open my legs a bit more… so his hand has space… I initially didn’t want to, it felt weird to fantasize and play like this. So new and different. But he knew how to talk to me, his whispers making my limbs weak and he made me feel safe with him…

He asked me to close my eyes and continued describing his movements and motions, his hand between my legs and his lips around my nipple, every narration a vivid memory of us and I could feel all the touches on my body. My mind created the feelings for me, the sensations. His low whispers made me bite my lip, each sentence so arousing. It felt as if his fingers actually did move inside me, my walls clenching around and…

“…I hit that spot… I feel it vibrating…”

I buried my face in my hand. Vibrating, that’s what my pussy was doing. I could feel myself throbbing inside and out in a way I haven’t before. I’m familiar with the pulsing of my clit and the contracting when I cum, but this time I could not only feel the way my pussy clenched around nothing, but the way all of me throbbed, how my gspot somehow pulsated inside me against nothing, aching for the pressure he was describing. Almost like phantom pain, I could feel him even though he wasn’t there, my body creating this illusion so strongly that my pussy got confused by being empty.

“…clench your thighs… rub your legs together… clench for me…”

…so I did. And with each sentence I grew hotter and the pulling sensation, the zing and pulsating grew and grew until everything tensed up. No rubbing, no grinding, just his voice and my muscles working together to seek an exceptional and incomparable release. I got closer and closer to an ultimate tug in my hips that was so strong, not painful but so intense.

“Cum for me… clench more… can you feel my fingers going faster…? Cum for me…”

Each sentence the exact combination of words to make the wrenching sensation built up stronger and stronger. I could feel his fingers buried inside me, I could feel his palm pressing against my clit, my body ached and sought release. Everything pressing together. I clenched my thighs and hips, moved in slow, intense motions… until I could feel that electric throbbing so deeply, overwhelmingly intense. And then… I felt the knot coming undone, untangling, releasing all the tension. I buried my head and bit my lip. I didn’t expect it to feel this strong, I felt my clit contracting without ever touching it. Not even the thin fabric of my seamless, smooth panties provided anything. There was no friction, no rubbing, just muscles contracting and clenching and releasing. And for that, it was insanely intense. A first of its kind… but he promised me, not the last.