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“Sleep’s not on my radar.” Celene sounded much closer, the texture of her sultry voice an undeniable aphrodisiac. “I’m thinking about us kissing in bed, my thigh pressing into you. The way you swivel your hips in a slow grind drives me wild.”

Skye hadn’t consciously done it; it’d happened naturally. “You liked that.”

“It made me wet.”

“God, oh.” That would do her in. She grasped a bed railing next to her head, needing an anchor. “Say that again? Please.”

Celene got breathier; the heat of her words deadly. “Skye, you make me so wet.”

Skye would surely warp the railing. “How does this work? Do I...do I just start touching myself?”

“You’ll touch yourself when I say so.”

Out came a whimper, not even a moan. Skye’s hips jumped off the bed. “You’re fucking torturing me.”

“I love when you let go.” Shifting sounded through on the receiver, followed by Celene again. “How much foreplay is too much? You’re responsive, you fluster easily. Maybe I should tease you for hours until you’re overcome with want.”

“Hours? My god.”

“Would that be too much?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t ever experienced...” Skye gulped, battling arousal demons for vocabulary. “Extended foreplay.”

Celene’s laugh was slow, intentionally crafty. “Touch your breast. Only one. Over your top.”

Skye indecisively hovered a hand above either mound of her chest until she picked her right breast, strumming a nipple peaking through the fabric. Razor-sharp pleasure cut through her; she took pitifully weak grasps so she wouldn’t come too soon. Her hips, although, had gone sentient, riding phantom fingers in the air, loosening those gasps into moans. One after another, a production line of arousal.

“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Celene said, her voice unrelenting. “What are you imagining?”

“I’m imagining your sexy tongue in my mouth. And...and...” Skye thought of Celene’s suffocating, sensual kisses. The slicker she grew, the more she lost a grip on her bashfulness and the meaning of the word. “Celene, god. You have the prettiest, most elegant fingers, and I stare at them sometimes, fantasizing how they’d fit inside me.”

Then, the unthinkable happened. Celene’s moan rang out, and it wasn’t low and saucy like her seductive voice; itwas hoarse, stair-stepped, a shudderingly higher pitch than expected. After it, Celene asked, “Do you imagine two fingers?”

“Yes. And more.”

“Get on speakerphone. Touch your breasts with both hands and picture me doing it.” She cursed, and Skye wished she knew why. “I cannot believe you sat on my hammock with your nipples tempting me.”

Skye couldn’t recall if Celene had told her over or under her shirt, but she chose artistic liberty, writhing at the skin-on-skin caresses. Slowly with her fingertips, as if her body could handle more teasing. Celene’s labored breathing let her know the feeling was mutual. “What are you touching?”

“I’m on my stomach now, just pushing my hips onto my bed.”

“Do you let your partners fuck you?” Skye had been wondering. A tactful avenue to broach the topic.

Celene hummed softly. “Why? Is that an offer?”

Skye pinched her nipples with light pressure, decidedly soaked. “I’ll only do what’s comfortable for you.”

“Mm,” Celene’s voice bounced up in a second of clarity before returning to seduction. “Nothing pleases me like giving orgasms; the other woman’s moans, how she hugs around my fingers, wetness trickling down my chin.” She moaned again, and Skye almost combusted. “But I’ll switch sometimes.”

“I’m relieved, because I want to touch you. So, so badly.”

“So,sobadly?” Celene’s tone was a warning, and Skye braced herself. “You want my pussy?”

Was it possible to be too keyed up? Would she cross into overstimulated territory? Skye’s center fluttered on nothing, and she gave voice to it. “Celene, uh. I think I came a little.”

That brought out another one of Celene’s incredible moans. “Will you do it again for me? I need to hear that again, fuck.”

“Yeah.” She’d have to. That climax did nothing but make her desire more. “Will you take something off?”