There’s not even a question of looking away. My eyes are glued to the screen and I might never look away again.
I’m mesmerized by the way those perky little tits of hers bounce every time she shoves the dildo inside of her. Her pussy is on full display but as good as the feed quality is, it’s still not clear enough for me. Sure, I can see her lips swallow the dildo every time she slides it through—but I want more.
I want to smell her.
I want to taste her.
I want to eject that fucking toy out of the window and plow into her myself.
God help me, I'm jealous of a plastic dildo.
Her blonde hair is fanned out across the pillows. Her eyes are closed and her chest heaves with every thrust. My cock throbs so painfully that I have to white-knuckle the edge of my desk just to stop from keeling over.
It’s not technically sex if you get yourself off, is it? I’m not breaking my rule. This is permissible.
Unzipping myself, I pull out my dick and start pumping hard. There’s no slow build here. Not tonight. I’m so horny that I feel as though I’m going to explode if I don’t come soon.
Her mouth parts in what is without doubt a moan, but I can’t hear it. Isn’t there supposed to be an audio feed hooked up to this thing as well? Grinding my teeth wildly, I release myself long enough to turn the volume on. It links up mid-moan and my cock jumps again.
“Ahh,” she murmurs. “My God, yes…”
She’s so much more relaxed than she was with me. There’s a sense that she feels freer, more comfortable. Uninhibited.
And I don’t like that one bit.
Where the hell was this brazen little kiska the other night when I fucked her on my dining table?
Sure, she’d moaned and writhed. She’d also come twice, if memory serves. But it was different. It isn’t until right this minute that I realize she was holding back. Or rather, something was holding her back.
Her body spasms as she nears the edge. I stop touching myself and focus all my attention on the monitor. Her lips part wider, her breasts shiver, her legs flail helplessly for a moment. And then—
“Ahh… Uri…”
My body floods with heat. There is no mistaking the name on her lips. My name. The satisfaction that races through my body completely washes out the annoyance.
Maybe she can be forgiven for holding back.
But not before I get my pound of flesh.
I’m acutely aware of how stupid this is when I tuck my erection back into my pants and stride out of my office. I should stop myself or, at the very least, come up with a plausible reason to burst in. But I have tunnel vision right now. The desire for conquest is so loud that it’s drowning out my sense of logic.
I was craving something strong…
She will suffice.
I’m going to walk in there and put that purple dildo to shame. I’m going to give her so many fucking orgasms that she won’t be able to hold back anymore. I’m going to release her from the shell she’s imprisoned herself in.
It’s hard to think about the consequences as I walk the staircase down to the basement. It’s even harder to remember that if I go through with this, Alyssa will be the only woman I’ve ever fucked twice.
Shit like that feels like an inconsequential detail right now.
I unlatch the bolt and rip the door open. I hear a gasp from the bed and then she’s scrambling to cover herself up. At least I get a flash of her juicy ass before she pulls the cover sheet around her chest.
Her cheeks are flushed pink and the color has spilled onto her chest and arms. Her hair is a chaotic mess of wild curls and her breathing is coming in hot and hard. She’s obviously caught off-guard by my presence but she’s trying desperately to hide it behind a mask of indignation.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to make sure you were alright. But I see now you’re doing just fine.”
She flushes an even darker shade of pink. “I… I was just hot and I wanted to sleep without any—”
“It must've slipped my mind to mention this earlier, but there are cameras in this room.”
Her mouth snaps shut. Her eyes bulge. The silence stretches on for a while before she speaks. “Did you see—？”
“I. Saw. Everything.” I let a grin spread across my face. “It was quite the show.”
“It wasn’t meant to be a show,” she snaps furiously. “You weren’t supposed to see that!”
I walk over to the armchair and twist it around to face her bed. “I’m glad I did,” I tell her as I sit down. "Your naked body was meant to be spread out across an eighty-inch screen in HD.”