32. Dog FaceTime
32
DOG FACETIME
Miles
I stare so hard I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped breathing. I can’t look away. I can’t stop. The scene unfolding in front of me is every fantasy I’ve ever had about Leighton come to life. She closes her eyes and lets a hand drift down the fabric of my jersey, her fingers brushing over the number twenty-one, then teasing the top of her panties.
They’re black. Lacy.
My body roars with need, heat surging through me at the thought of stripping them off her.
But she’s setting the pace—slow, deliberate, deliciously torturous. It’s a striptease that’s like honey, a drizzle of sweetness that’s driving me insane. She tugs at the hem of the jersey, inching it up, up, up, revealing a sliver of pale skin. Then more.
When she reaches the bottom of her breasts, my throat goes desert dry. The lower curves of those perfect globes peek out, and it’s enough to wreck me completely. I make a sound—raw, feral, full of need.
She smiles. She knows what she’s doing to me even if we aren’t talking.
And then—just as she starts to pull the jersey over her head—the camera blinks off.
What the fuck?
An alert flashes on my home camera system. Dog-cam: Offline .
I’m not just turned on anymore; now I’m worried. My pulse is a mix of lust and panic as I call her immediately.
She doesn’t answer.
The worry tightens in my chest for the longest thirty seconds of my life—until a new notification pops up.
Dog - cam: Online .
Merry fucking Christmas to me.
Leighton’s in my bed, sitting on her knees, picking up right where she left off. The dogs are off the bed. Thank fuck.
With one swift, seductive motion, she pulls my jersey over her head and tosses it aside, leaving her bare from the waist up. Her gorgeous tits bounce and my mouth waters.
I’m done for.
Wait. Nope. Make that I’m absolutely ruined when she leans forward, her face closer to the camera and she slowly lifts a finger, making a shushing sound.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be so goddamn quiet,” I mutter to myself as she turns around and crawls across to the nightstand, giving me a perfect view of her ass, covered mostly in black lace. When she spins to face me, she’s running her hand along a thick, peach vibrator made from sustainable plastic, and the look on her face is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
The toy I gave her.
Lust cranks higher in me as she slides the head inside, then down her panties, gliding it across her pretty pussy. I can’t see it touching her, but I can imagine. Oh hell, can I imagine.
She takes it out and brings it closer to the camera, showing me…
My pulse rockets to the moon—the toy glistens.
A rumble works its way up my chest. I can’t stand the electric pressure in my cells. I can’t take this rabid want pulsing in my veins. I palm my cock through my boxer briefs, then hit her name on the phone. She stretches across the bed to answer on speaker.
“Hi.”
I waste no time. “Sit on it. Fuck that toy so I can see your perfect body and your gorgeous tits bouncing. So I can watch you ride that toy thinking it’s me.”
“Are you sure you want that?” she asks, her voice breathy, playful. She knows the power she has over me.
“Positive,” I say through gritted teeth, tension mixing with lust inside me.
“If you say so,” she says, then slides the toy back into her panties again.
I groan, long and loud.
She murmurs, and it’s a sound of appreciation. “You like that.”
“Fucking love it,” I say and I’m careful to speak clearly, not to whisper. To make sure she can hear and enjoy every word. I don’t want her to miss anything. Especially when I say, “Take them off, Leighton. Take them off, now.”
With a heady murmur, she says yes. Then she slides from the bed, still in view of the newly positioned cam, and slips off her panties.
My groan echoes from Toronto to San Francisco. “Yes, fucking yes, sweetheart. Now get on the bed and fuck that toy. For me. ”
“It works so well, Miles,” she says as she moves back onto the mattress.
“You used it last night,” I say, a question, but a statement too.
“I did.” Her tone is full of heat.
“All I could think when I was going to sleep was you fucking yourself on my bed.”
She grabs the toy and slides it between her thighs. My dick throbs, jumping in my boxer briefs at the sight.
“Did you jerk off thinking of me?”
“Yes,” I say, shameless.
“Don’t touch yourself yet,” she says, a quick, clear directive.
I understand completely. “I’ll wait for you, sweetheart. But you’d better ride that toy good and hard right now.”
She looks at the camera, licks the corner of her lips as she positions the dildo between her bare legs. Then she smiles wantonly as she sinks down onto it.
I fucking shout in pleasure. “Yes, baby. That’s so fucking hot.”
“Feels so good,” she says, holding the base of the toy with one hand, her other hand sliding up her stomach to palm one breast.
A shiver visibly runs through her as she rises up, exposing more of the toy’s shaft and giving me a view of how wet it is.
I can barely follow her instructions, I’m so aroused. I grip my cock, giving it a necessary squeeze to relieve some of the tension. Then, letting go, I focus on my woman. “Grind down on it, sweetheart,” I say.
With a nod she sinks right down on it. I nearly lose my mind as she takes it all. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen as Leighton rises up and down, the battery-operated cock in her hand while she squeezes her left breast. Her eyes flutter closed, and her sweet, beautiful pussy that I miss so much seeks more of the toy. She fucks it with abandon, grinding down faster, rising up, riding that toy like it’s everything she needs.
“I’m close,” she gasps out.
“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s my dick you’re riding. It’s my cock that’s making you come. Take me deeper and fucking ride me until you scream.”
She’s a blur of flesh and desire, fucking and seeking, then calling out my name as she loses herself to the gift I gave her.
Watching her on camera like this, seeing her come as a voyeur who has been invited in, is a wicked thrill.
But what’s even hotter? It’s the way she moans, sighing in the aftermath of her orgasm. When her eyes open, she says in a sex-drunk voice, “My turn. I want to watch you.”
I switch to video so she can see me as I push down my briefs and take out my aching cock. “Stay on video, baby. Lie back on my bed and watch me.”
“Gladly,” she murmurs and drags a hand down her chest as she takes the phone and stares at the video call while she settles down onto the pillows, enjoying the show.
And I give her one.
I grip my shaft nice and tight, stroking it then sliding a thumb over the head, gathering a drop of liquid arousal and spreading it over the crown .
Her eyes widen, flaring with a brand-new desire. “Do that again,” she says, clearly mesmerized.
I comply, spreading the pre-come down my shaft. My balls are aching. My cock is throbbing. My brain is demanding. I can barely take this anymore and my fist flies faster, harder, sliding down my length until my hips are punching up.
Alone in a hotel room at two in the morning in Toronto, I fuck my hand until I spill all over my palm, picturing all of the things I want to do to the woman in my home who drives me wild.
The woman who seems just as surprised as I am since she says, “I didn’t plan that. But I couldn’t resist you.”
“Welcome to the club,” I say. “We have jackets.”