"Are you doing that for me?" I asked, already knowing she was. Because, apparently, she had the same issue I did. When we were on the phone with each other, neither of us could control our reactions to each other.
"Yes."
"You like it better when they're rolled though, right?" I asked, realizing there was so much I already knew about her preferences, despite never having experienced them firsthand.
"Yes," she said, voice a little thicker, needier.
"Does that feel good? Thinking about my fingers rolling, squeezing?" I asked. "About my lips sucking, tongue teasing, teeth nipping?" I asked.
To that, I got a painful stab of need in my cock, the friction in my jeans making it hard to focus.
"Yes," she said in that soft, sweet little voice of hers that I knew from experience meant she was ready to move on, that she was lost enough in the moment that she was able to detach, that she was mindless to anything but the need of release from the clawing need inside.
"I want to slide my hand inside your pants," I told her, getting a whimpering sound from her, knowing she was following along. "Into your panties," I added, "Run my finger up your wet pussy. You're wet for me, aren't you?" I asked, already knowing. I could hear it in her breathing, in the catches, in the shaky exhales.
"Yes," she whimpered.
"I bet your clit is throbbing," I told her. "Begging to be touched. Nice and slow," I added, knowing that was how she liked it to start, slowly building the momentum. "Touch it for me, baby," I demanded, my hand slipping down to rub over the fly of my jeans, just the once, convincing myself it would help the throbbing need, but finding that it only made it worse.
I stood there for a long moment, hearing her work herself, making the little mewling noises I'd been hearing in my dreams lately fill my ear, familiar, even hotter than they had been in the past.
Because they were hers.
"You want to come, don't you? I asked, hearing the roughness in my voice.
"Please," she begged.
Whatever was left of my control snapped at that word, at the desperation in it.
"Please what?" I demanded. I didn't usually put her on the spot, but I had already made it across the hall. My forehead was pressed against the door, telling myself I would stay on this side of it, that I just wanted to be closer, that I wanted to hear her come through the wall instead of the phone.
I didn't expect her to say it, to find the nerve. But I guess I underestimated how desperate she was for release, how much she needed for me to demand she do it.
But then her voice met my ear, small, barely audible, but I heard it.
"Please make me come," she whispered.
There was no staying on my side of the door.
My hand was reaching for the knob before she even finished speaking, pushing the door open, striding across the office, tossing my phone on the desk, grabbing the one from her ear with one hand as I leaned over the back of the chair, my hand slipping down her pants with the other, sliding under her hand, hearing the surprised yelp at the contact as my thumb started circling her clit, hard and fast like I knew she wanted when she was close.
"Rush..." she whimpered, voice catching.
"This is better than the phone, isn't it?" I asked, lips down by her ear, feeling the tremble as it moved through her body.
"Yes," she admitted, turning her head into my neck, taking a deep breath as her signature coconut and pineapple scent met my nostrils.
My fingers slipped down her cleft, pressing inside her. A low, ragged sound escaped me as her walls closed around my fingers, hot, wet, making my cock ache. "You're so tight," I told her as my fingers pressed deep, getting a strangled sound out of her at the invasion. "More?" I asked, flicking my fingers inside her, feeling her hips wiggle in a circle, begging for more.
"Please," she moaned, thighs pressing tighter together, trapping me even if I had a mind to pull away.
My fingers started fucking her. There was nothing slow or sweet or explorative about it. The thrusts were fast and hard, driving her up, making her walls get tighter and tighter as her moans got louder, needier, her lips pressing into my neck.
My fingers curled inside her, raking over her top wall.
"Oh," she cried out, hand slapping onto the desk as the sensations grew, as she got pushed closer to the edge.
"You want to come?" I asked, pressing my thumb into her clit with more pressure.
"Y-yes," she cried, hips writing against my palm.
"Come for me, baby," I demanded, fingers working her G-spot, thumb pressing hard into her clit. "There," I said when her walls tightened so hard that movement became impossible until the tension released, leaving her pulsating around me as she came. My fingers started thrusting, milking the orgasm for all it was worth as her body convulsed hard once as my name cried out from between her lips.