With how the phone is angled, it looks thicker than my forearm and adorned with a network of prominent veins. His bulky cockhead glistens with precum, and my throat dries at the immense girth.
How on earth will I get it to fit on Saturday night?
He says something, but I’m too busy moaning to catch it.
“Pull down the strap of your camisole,” he repeats.
“Alright.”
I slide the band of satin down my shoulder, so it hangs limply down my arm. The entire garment stays in place with the lace cups still hugging my breasts.
“Good girl,” he says. “We’ll enjoy our time better when you’re obedient.”
My lips curl into a smirk. “And if I’m not?”
“You really don’t want to know what I do to bratty girls.”
A thrill of excitement zips down my insides and nestles straight between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together and swallow back a groan.
“Maybe I like being bad. Maybe I like to be scared.”
“I’ll bear that in mind when I have you kneeling before me on Saturday,” he says, his voice laced with dark amusement. “Now, pull down the other strap.”
My heart soars that he likes what he sees enough to confirm we’re still on for the weekend. I slide the second strap off my shoulder and let the satin camisole fall down to my hips.
“Squeeze your nipple. Imagine it’s me pulling it with my teeth.”
My clit throbs at the order. I pinch one bud and stretch it a little, sending a shockwave of pleasure across my nerves. Biting down on my bottom lip, I breathe quicker. The muscles of my core pulse and my folds become slick.
Marius leans forward, and my other nipple tightens under his attention.
“Slide your leg to the side like a good girl.”
There’s a command in his voice that sounds like he’s accustomed to getting nothing but obedience. Before it even registered that he’s asking me to show him my pussy, I open my legs, exposing myself to the camera.
A cool draft swirls across the studio, brushing over my heated skin like a caress. I would never do anything so risky, but the presence of this stranger gives me a peculiar sense of security.
“That’s it,” he growls.
My heart soars at his praise.
“Did you get horny, thinking of me?” he asks.
Heat blooms across my cheeks. Right now, I’m weak to his masculine allure. The part of me that doesn’t want to admit to being so needy takes control.
I shake my head.
“Liar,” he says. “Not with your cunt so glistening and wet. Why else would you call me on video chat while not wearing knickers?”
He has a point, and I would double down on my attempts at acting cool, but the low cadence of his voice lulls me back into a state of perpetual lust.
I slide my fingers down my belly, over the bundled satin, and onto my full Brazilian.
Marius leans forward, giving me a surge of confidence that I’ve affected a man so powerful and handsome. He keeps his hand fisted around his thick cock with a level of self control that’s missing in men my age. Not that I have much experience, but I didn’t expect him to be so calm.
I run gentle circles around my clit and watch him stare at me through hooded eyes.
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” he says. “An eager little slut.”