Page 23 of Stitch
“Oh god. This is so embarrassing. I never thought you’d ring me. You’ve made it weird.”
This time it was a full on laugh, and then a soft curse.
“Hang on.” I heard him shuffling about, and then he was focused on me again.
“Nothing weird about wanting a good orgasm, Camille. Are you too sensitive to try again?” Wow, a man who knew that was a thing? I lightly stroked my clit, and it didn’t scream ‘get away from me’.
“No, I don’t think so.”
He made a low humming sound.
“If you’re wearing underwear, remove it. You need the freedom to spread yourself wide. And put me on speaker.” He was bossy, but I liked it.
“Should I call you Sir too?”
He chuckled again. “I’d rather you called me by my name. Have you done it yet? Get on with it.”
I set the phone on speaker and rested it beside me, then I shuffled out of my sleep shorts.
“Okay, bossy pants, I’m ready.”
“Uh, if you’re gonna give me a nickname, I’d like to veto that one. How about… hmmm… Orgasm Master?”
I giggled. “You’d have to earn a name like that,Stitch.”
“If your fingers aren’t already on your pussy and clit, I might decide not to let you come at all.”
Thirteen
Who the hell amI? I slid out of my room to phone her, because I didn’t want to wake Elise, and I was in a silent clubhouse for once. I tried talking to her in the hallway outside my room, but that was a dumbass idea, so I’d made my way downstairs to the bar, which was empty and darkened, and took up a seat on a sofa in the corner.
“Shouldn’t my fingers be inside me, oh master of orgasms?”
I grinned, wishing she was right beside me, so I could show her just exactly how I really was the master of her orgasms.
“I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet, girl. For now, I want you to tease your pussy, but don’t finger it fully yet. Tease your clit with the other hand. Make sure to suck on your fingers first, although I’m sure you’re nice and wet already.”
She let out a soft sigh, and it shot through me to my fucking dick, which was twitching like it wanted to join in. Could I bring myself to even touch it if it did? Would I really jerk off down here in the damn bar?
“Stitch?”
“Yeah, girl?”
“Are you touching yourself too?”
I stared down at my boxers, just visible in the dim light. Could I?
“What do you think, Camille? Do you realise that most men you speak to on the phone would have their dicks in their hands, because your voice is fucking velvety and sexy as fuck?”
Her response was a soft moan. Yeah, time to get her off.
“I want you to listen to me, and slowly finger-fuck yourself, while you tease your clit, roll those sexy hips of yours, and writhe all over your bed as you do. Will you do that for me, Camille?”
“If you’re a good boy, I might.” She giggled, and I found myself smiling again.
“I’m definitely not a good boy, but then I’m not a boy at all, am I? I’m all man.” Shit. There I go, lying to her again. It was like a cold shower, but in my head, in my fucking soul.
She let out a shaky moan, and I shook myself out of my dark thoughts.
