His words tore through me like a tornado. The orgasm rolled through me in a big, soft wave, electrifying every inch of my skin. I cried out, arching into my hand, wishing for all the world that Damian were here. On top of me. Fulfilling all these dirty promises.
“Ahh, so she screams.” Damian’s chuckle was self-satisfied. Smug, even.
I took a few moments to catch my breath, my chest heaving from the journey we’d just gone on. My pussy still pulsed softly when I was finally able to speak.
“And what about you?”
“I’m waiting for you to send me a picture of what you look like right now.”
I groaned, covering my eyes with my hand. “Damian, you can’t be serious.”
“Do it. Take a selfie.”
I grumbled but I did as he asked. I sent it off, barely even looking at the picture from sheer embarrassment. I didnotwant to see my sex glow.
“Now look at your dress,” Damian said. “Did you make it wet?”
I fanned out the fabric across my knees, spotting the damp spot from my pussy. My mouth parted. “Oh my God.”
“You stained your dress, didn’t you?”
I groaned again. “Youstained my dress.”
“Guilty,” he said with a laugh. “Though it’sourdress now.” Then he grunted. “Your picture…” He was quiet a moment while I regathered my courage. When he returned, he let out a low moan. “That’s all I need, babe. Those tits and that sex glow. I’m gonna come like a fucking rocket.”
“Then where’s my picture?” I ventured. I was only half serious. There was no way he’d send me a dick pic…right?
“I thought you’d never ask.” I could hear the shit-eating grin through the phone. He was quiet for a moment or two, then my phone pinged.
My breath caught in my throat as I opened the incoming message.
Damian’s dick filled my screen.
His glorious, fully hard, thick and perfectcock. Right there. On my phone screen. His hand gripped the base, giving me some idea of the thickness and length. The air in my lungs evaporated.
There was no way in cluckin’ hell that would fit inside me.
“It’s not gonna fit,” I whispered.
“Oh, it’ll fit. I’ll make sure it does. I’ll go nice and slow, babe. Don’t you worry.”
“And you’re…jacking off? Right now?”
“I’m about to come.” His voice sounded strained. “Thinking about the way you stained our dress while you were touching yourself. Talking to me. Hearing my words. Looking at your satisfied expression.” He grunted. “I’m harder than I’ve ever been. All because of you.”
My cheeks flushed again, and the heat zipping through my core had me considering round two. Damian grunted again, and then a rough groan escaped him.
“Did you come?” I asked after a moment or two.
“So fucking hard. And the next time I do, it’s gonna be all over those beautiful tits of yours.”
My mind spun. He’d gone from grumpy to dirty talker extraordinaire in the span of a week, and I couldn’t even decide what was the most outrageous part about what was unfolding between us. Three days ago, I’d been certain he’d never noticed my breasts in his entire life.
And now he wanted to come on them.
Insert mind-blown emojis here.
We chatted for a few more minutes about nothing, about everything. He’d lost some of the sexy grit, but every so often he’d let slip an “Oh yeah?” that had my pussy clenching. He asked about my missed assignment, which led to an extensive discussion of which pieces I planned to include in the portfolio. Not only did he have opinions about what I should include, he even remembered specific details about some of the designs I’d worn to the office.