Tess #2
“I wish I were your hand.” His breath sounded heavy. Thick. “What is your hand doing?”
“It’s rubbing my clit. In small, teasy circles. I want it to be harder, but if it were his hand, he’d be torturing me.”
“So you’re trying to make it feel like it’s him.”
Impossible. His hands were magic. I’d be on the verge of orgasm right now if it were really him.
Actually, I was already getting pretty close. “Yes. I’m trying to touch myself the way he does. He’s so good at touching me.”
“That’s what I see as I’m watching you, don’t I? I see your hand moving slowly through the fabric of your panties. I see the frustrated expression on your face.”
His reminder that I better really be doing what I said I was doing was unnecessary. “I’m so frustrated. It’s not enough. I’m begging for more. Give me more, Scott.”
I heard another rustle of movement followed by a zipper. “You’ve spread your legs, and now your hand has moved down. You’ve put your fingers inside you.”
“How many?”
“Two to begin. Are you wet?”
“I’m soaked.” I paused so I could mirror the pose he’d asked me to take. Then I stuck two fingers inside me, stopping at the second knuckle so I could pull them out only to put them back in.
“Deeper, Tessa,” he said, as though he actually knew how shallow I’d been with my probe. “I want them as far as they can go. I want you stretched. I want you to ache. When I look at your face, is it aching?”
“Not yet.” It was a near lie. The dual roles he played, boyfriend and voyeur, had me turned on like I’d never been before. My desperation did indeed have me aching.
But I wasn’t aching like I would if he were actually there. I wasn’t stretched and spread and filled the way I would have been if it were his cock instead of my fingers. “I wish it were you inside me.”
“Put three fingers in, baby. Curve your hand so your thumb can rub your clit, and no more going slow. I want to see a steady pace. Can you hear this?”
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be hearing at first. But then he seemed to move his phone, and I could hear a distinct sound of rhythmic rubbing. Of skin against skin. His hand moving quickly up and down along the length of his shaft.
“I want to be your hand,” I said, acknowledging I could hear it. Acknowledging my intense need in the threadbare tone of my voice.
“That’s the tempo I want your fingers to be fucking you. Match that tempo.”
I did as he instructed, put three fingers in, moved them in at the rough speed he’d adopted, rubbed my clit furiously at the same time. “It’s too much.”
“Don’t slow down, Tessa,” he ordered. “I want to see you struggling.”
“I am. You do. You see me leaning my forehead. Against the glass. Because I can’t. Stand up on my own anymore.” My sentences came out short and choppy as my breath picked up. “You see my eyes closed. My face twisted. My mouth open.”
“I’m close,” he said, and I could picture him too—his eyes closed, his face twisted, his mouth open. “I’m going to come all over my hand. You’ve done that to me. I’m watching you, and you’re so fucking hot, and I’m going to make a mess all over myself because of you.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Put your phone on speaker, and flash me your tits. I want to see your breasts pressed up against the glass.”
I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even pause to check once more to be sure no one was watching. I just did as he said—hit the speaker, set the phone on the windowsill, and lifted up my shirt, wrestling with it one-handed until my breasts were bare. Then I pressed them against the window.
“Can you see them?” I asked. “The glass is cold. But I’m so hot. I’m going to come.”
“Your nipples look like daggers. They’re so hard.”
“They’re so hard,” I echoed shrilly.
“And I can tell you’re about to come. But you’re fighting it. You don’t slow down, but you’re waiting to release.”
I sawed my fingers in and out despite the clenching of my pussy, fought against my threatening orgasm despite being on the ragged edge. “What am I waiting for?” I cried, unsure I could hold off another moment.
“You’re waiting for your boyfriend to tell you that you can come.”
“He wants us to come together.”
“He does.”
“What does he need from me to get there?”
In the pause I could hear his hand moving along his cock, his tempo picking up to a furious pace. “Tell me how close you are. Tell me again what I see while I’m looking at you.”
“I’m so close. My legs are spread, my knees are buckled. My pants have fallen to my ankles. My tits are bare against the glass. My nipples are so taut they hurt. My fingers are jabbing inside of me. I’m so wet. So slick I can hear it. Oh my God. Oh my God, it’s so hot.”
“Come, Tessa. Come with me.” His voice tightened, and by the end of his sentence I knew he was already coming.
And I was coming with him. My entire body tensing as I rocked against the window, my hand frozen between my legs, too afraid the change in sensation would kill me if I moved it.
There were stars in the night across my vision that weren’t there when I’d looked at the sky, and as much as I’d tried to hold my sound in, a jagged cry escaped me.
“Fuck, that was hot.” Scott sounded as destroyed as I was when he spoke.
“Oh my God, the hottest,” I agreed, slumping to the floor, my pants still around my ankles.
After wiping my hand on my shirt—I was not in a state to be concerned with whether or not that was gross—I picked up my phone and turned off the speaker before bringing it to my ear.
“I wonder if Bennie and Tey heard me in the other room.”
“Shit, Tess. Are you trying to get me hard again?”
I let out a harsh laugh. “If you are, you’re on your own because I am nowhere near recovered.”
“Duly noted.”
We fell silent. I was still trying to catch my breath, trying to steady my heartbeat.
As I came down from the high, my brain kicked in.
This thing with Scott had to be more than just sneaking around and phone sex.
The kink was fun, but I’d reached a point in my life where I’d learned that the fun always fizzled eventually.
That’s when the guy usually disappeared.
I didn’t want Scott to disappear.
I said I could give him a day. Truth was, I could give him longer than that. Knowing me, I’d give him too long. I always did.
A sort of hopelessness started to creep in at the edges of my good mood. I wanted so badly to keep it at bay. Needed to keep it at bay. Needed Scott to help me. “So tomorrow…”
He jumped right in. “I didn’t talk to them tonight because my mother is always sulky after my father has spent the day golfing and because I was going to be with you. Monday night is our standing family dinner night anyway, which is the best time for trying to keep my parents’ attention.”
“Family dinner?” Being an only child from a single mother, a family anything was a somewhat foreign idea.
“Immediate family. Though it’s only about once a month that all my siblings show up. It tends to work out for the best that way so we can rotate who has to bear the criticism and regret. It was already my turn, so it’s perfect timing.”
“Yuck.” It made me wonder why any of them would continue to go. The power Scott’s parents held over their children really was stronger than I understood. Which got me thinking... “What will happen when you tell them?”
“Well.” He cleared his throat, and I braced for him to either say something terrible or for him to lie.
I didn’t know which I’d rather hear. “They’ll try to talk me out of it, of course.
Try to bribe me. My father will tell me to forget my transfer and then will give me a list of failures that validate why I didn’t deserve another position anyway. A typical family dinner.”
My stomach clenched. “That sounds horrible, Scott. How can you stand them?” Why did he stand them was the real question. And would he end up backing down?
“It’s how they’ve always been. I guess I’m used to it.”
“But you don’t have to be. Parents don’t have to be terrible, and when they are, they don’t have to be part of your life.” It hadn’t been my choice to be abandoned by my father, but having been, I was fully aware that it was possible to live without him.
Of course, it was probably a lot different for Scott being a Sebastian and all. I’d had enough experience with the elite to know their ties held stronger than others. Their bonds often impossible to break.
I expected him to tell me that now, but instead he said, “You make it sound so easy.”
I wanted it to be that easy for him. Not just for what it meant for us as a couple—were we really a couple?—but for what it meant for him as a son. As a man. He was already so much. How much more could he be if he took charge of his life and stopped letting them pull him down?
I should have told him so, but the words didn’t come. The most inspiration I could give him was, “Good luck.”
“There’s no reason to worry, Tessa,” he said, seeming to sense my unvoiced concerns. “I’m going to stand up to them. The only reason they’ve had power over me in the past is because I didn’t have any good reason to fight with them. Now I do. And I will. No matter what it takes.”
My chest warmed, and my muscles relaxed. And maybe it was na?ve to believe anything a hot boy said, but I did, and if it bit me in the ass in the end, then so be it.
“I miss you,” I said, the words slipping out without warning.
“I miss you too, baby,” he said without hesitation, relieved maybe to not be talking about his parents anymore.
“Not just because I want to marathon-fuck you all night. I miss looking at you. I miss breathing the same air you breathe. Is that stupid? I only dropped you off six hours ago. What are you doing to me, Tessa Turani?”
I grinned, a wide dopey grin that I would have been shy to show him if he were present but wouldn’t have been able to hold back. Shocks of pleasure spread over my body, making my skin tingle and my belly twist and my pussy buzz and my heart feel full.
“I don’t know, Scott Sebastian,” I said honestly. “But whatever it is, you’re doing the same to me.”