“Your pussy was so tight against my fingers. You don’t know how bad I wanted to fist you just to hear the moans that would escape those fucking lips. Ah, those lips…” He said “lips” like he was recalling the memory of my anatomy. His hand pumped faster, and I could hear his raspy breathing rush harder. I could no longer deny the effect seeing this man had over my body. I was a slave to the lust that overcame me. Unbuttoning my pants, I slid my fingers inside my panties, massaging the outside of my cleft.
“And, fuck, how wet you get. You could literally wring out the sheets, they were so drenched.”
His hips thrust up into his fisting hand. I moved my panties to the side to have direct access to my clit, hardened by the visual of Joel literally losing himself to the memory of me. More pre-come leaked, and I wondered how long of a video this was. I couldn’t imagine him being able to hold out much longer. I’d barely touched myself and already I could feel my insides coiling, readying for the flood of my release.
“But nothing felt as good as the first time I slid this cock into that slick cunt of yours. Do you remember now? How deep I went? You were literally gasping for breath. Begging me for mercy. Each time I rocked into you, you gasped. Are you gasping yet, Blaire?”
His words speared into me.
Honest and Primal.
Tempting.
I couldn’t see those green eyes of his, but I somehow felt them—peering into the deepest parts of me. Deeper than anyone had ever been. The words spoken weren’t meant to be sarcastic or cocky, but spoken by a man who had experience. Was I gasping yet? How could I not gasp? I was completely beholden to his every word, every move. I was transfixed by the rhythm of his movement, the lines of his body all working in conjunction with his pumping hand. For the first time, I became aware of the true magnitude of his beauty. Before, he was hot, fucking sexy, a mountain of a man filled with enough charm to talk even the most blushing of virgins into tossing aside their virginities like used condoms.
My chest was tight with every rush of breath that escaped my lips. Joel’s skin was flushed as he angled his legs toward the camera, showing me his full monty. Continuing to stroke himself, he moved his other hand to cup his balls, giving them a tug that made him moan louder.
“I wish I was there right now. You know what I’d do,” he groaned, pausing a moment to gather his breath before continuing, “I’d open up that pretty little pussy and I’d whisper things. Things only meant for your body to hear. Would you like that, Blaire? I’d be so close, you could feel my breath fanning across your cunt. I’d be able to see every little drop leaving your cunt and sliding down your ass onto the sheets below. Do you feel that need? I do. I’ve felt it since the first moment I watched you orgasm. I’d never seen something so sexy or so beautiful, Blaire.”
Joel was losing control. His fluid movements were more erratic, his chest climbed faster. He groaned long and low, like a sigh almost, except heavier. His hand clutched tighter and then he erupted. Long jets of come spilled over his hand and onto his stomach, his milky white essence shining brilliantly against his sun-kissed skin. He continued groaning and I rubbed harder, strumming my clit between my fingers until I felt a tingling sensation traverse my body, spiraling until it reached a point my body could no longer contain, at which point I orgasmed. Joel’s name fell from my lips—a quiet gasp that seemed amplified in the quiet of the room.
“Fuck, Blaire, look what you made me do.”
Joel’s laugh filled the room, and just as I thought he would get up to clean up or turn the camera off, he did neither. He sat up against the pillows, his face still out of shot and said, “Blaire, I’m sorry I should have told you the minute I knew. Please meet me. Please. We can meet wherever. Please don’t make me send you more videos. I will, but I’d much rather be making videos with you.”
“Huh, never going to happen,” I said aloud.
“I just want to get to know you. Don’t make me pull the ‘no living relatives’ card. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me, but if it’s all I can get out of you, I’ll take it. Please, Blaire.”
With that, he walked back to the edge of the room, where the camera was most likely propped up on some bookcase or dresser and turned off the camera. My screen faded to black before returning back to the ocean desktop image. I sat staring at my monitor while catching my breath and wondering what to do next. Although I didn’t mind getting another one of his videos, I couldn’t let him continue. If only for the simple fact that he was putting us both at risk the longer he continued these attempts to get me to meet him.
After I washed up, changed my clothes, and got settled in for the night with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine, I pulled out my phone, eager to just get it over with. I could have texted. Could have made things easier on myself by not actually speaking with him, but I wanted to hear his voice. I missed it, like I missed him, and the video was a poor substitute.
“It seems I finally got your attention,” Joel said in answering.
“You could say that. Although, that seemed kind of the point.”
“It was a hard one to make, but desperate times. You don’t make it easy on a guy, Blaire. I’ve never felt so…rejected before.”
“Well there’s a first for everything. Look, I’ll meet you, but that’s it. I’m not promising you anything.”
“Great. Where would you like to meet? We can go anywhere you want.”
“Have you ever been to that Mexican place off Charleston? You know the one by Smith’s?”
“No, but I know what you’re talking about.”
“Meet me there. Tomorrow at one. This is it, Joel. If for some reason you don’t show up—”
“I’ll be there. I promise. I’ll be there.”
“Goodnight, Joel.”
“Goodnight, Blaire.”
I may have watched the video once or twice more before I went to bed that night.
Chapter Seven
The same white Mercedes that was waiting outside my home over a week ago was now sitting in the parking lot of Ernesto’s. Ernesto’s was off the beaten path, a place not usually frequented by corporate workers with only an hour for lunch. Aside from us, only three other cars were parked just outside the restaurant. That didn’t stop me from inspecting the surrounding area. Not that I was going incognito or anything, but if anything felt off then I was definitely going to be skipping lunch.
My fingernails tapped against the steering wheel while I second-guessed again what I was actually doing meeting Joel—out in public, no less. Finally resolving to exit the vehicle, I got out and made my way to the entrance. Just inside the door to the right was the hostess stand, with rows of tables and booths behind the woman who stood at the podium ready to seat me. A bar on the left hid a few high-top tables.
“How many?” the young woman asked. She looked barely old enough to be out of high school.
“Oh, I’m here meeting someone.”
I barely got the last word out before I felt him. Joel lingered there in the archway of the bar section. After motioning to Joel, the young woman put down the menu she’d gathered and smiled at me as I made my way over to the bar.
“I’m not drinking with you.”
“Is it because you can’t control yourself around me or because you have to get back to work?”
I passed him to sit at the table, where there were already two glasses of water resting. Joel’s hand found its way to my lower back, shocking me with the warmth his body always seemed to possess. This is just lunch. Joel guided me until we both took our seats, and I immediately took a sip from my glass, eager to shake off the few degrees my body temp climbed just at the sight of him.