Oceans Apart Book 1 (Oceans Apart #1)(24)

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said softly. “I wish I could run my hands over your soft skin, over the curves of your hips, your stomach, and your breasts. Touch them for me, Ginny.”

I hesitated; I’d never done anything quite like this in front of someone, much less on the computer. “M-my breasts?”

“Yes,” he whispered, sending shivers down my spine.

I was nervous as hell, and I licked my lips and raised my hands to my chest, hoping he couldn’t tell they were trembling. My skin was warm where I placed my hands and I proceeded to slide them across the swell of my generous bosom.

“Mmm, you look amazing Gin, ” Tristan said, smiling and leaning even closer. “Now cup them. Both of them. Let me see how they look in your hands.”

I did so, hefting them and breathing a bit harder. And without even being told, I let my fingers pinch my nipples, gasping softly at the sensation as I rolled them between my thumbs and index fingers.

“Oh, very nice,” Tristan approved. “Pinch harder for me, twist them a little. Until you really feel it.”

Oh, God, I was already feeling it. Between my hands on my breasts and the heat in his voice, my body was starting to heat up. The familiar ache between my legs was building …the ache I ignited with steamy erotica on my Kindle and then put out with my trusty Hitachi. Only this time, I was being watched. “Tristan…”

I did as I was told, pinching my nipples harder and tugging them so I could give them a good twist, the sharp stab of pleasure making me moan and slide my hips forward a bit. I felt like I was on display for him, like a peep show, touching myself for his pleasure so I could have mine. Just the very idea of it made me wetter between my legs.

“Good,” he said, and I could hear him unzip his pants where he sat. “Do you want more, Ginny? Do you wish I were there? Look, do you want this inside your beautiful, wet *?”

I nodded eagerly. “God, yes… I would love it inside me… I wish you were here.”

“Mmm, I know what you mean. I wish I were there, too.” He smiled into the camera and continued, “I’d have to kiss you first, long slow kisses until your toes curl. Then leave you breathless and panting while I trailed my lips down your neck, biting and nipping along the way. Would you like that?”

“Oh, Tristan, yes. That sounds…yeah.” I let go of one of my breasts and slid my free hand down my stomach, heading for my hot, swollen *.

“No, no. Not yet,” Tristan said, stopping me. “You’re mine right now. You can only play with that beautiful wet * when I say you can.”

A grin slid across his face, I was about to explode. Brad had never tried any play like this with me, so it was very exciting. I moved my hand back up to my breasts and spread my thighs a little bit wider, giving him a better view of my *. From the moan that came from the speakers, he clearly liked what he saw.

“Gin, you’re gorgeous. I want to lick you, taste you… God, I want to make you squirm and moan as you cum on my face. Would you like that, naughty girl?”

“Mmm…yes, I’d love to be your naughty girl and cum on you.” I whispered into the microphone. My insides quivered when I heard those words, “naughty girl”. I had always wanted to be a “bad girl in bed”, but Brad was so vanilla, I just got used to being the proper “good girl”, missionary style. Brad wasn’t horrible at sex, not at all. He was just…boring. I wanted to try new ways to spice things up and he never wanted to, so although I still felt a bit nervous, this was very exciting to me and I hoped it was to him as well.

“Slide your fingers down between your thighs and touch your *. Just touch it, feel how wet you are for me. Tell me how good it feels.”

I tipped my head back against the wall and did as I was told, sliding my hand down further. I’d never been ticklish, but then, touching myself had never felt like this, either. Every movement of my hand caused a tingling sensation, and by the time it found its way between my thighs, I was panting softly and desperate for a touch, even if it was my own.

I wanted to sink my fingers inside and imagine they were his cock, but I followed his instructions, letting one finger slide along my folds, playing in the wetness before going back up to circle my clit.

“Tristan,” I moaned, closing my eyes and pretending it was him.


“That’s good, dirty girl. Very good. What would you want me to do to you? Tell me.”

“A-anything. Everything. Mmm, I want you to touch me, lick me, rub my clitty with your fingers and tongue. Get me hot for you, baby and make me take it…make me beg you for your delicious cock.” I was panting, surprised at my choice of words. I wasn’t usually that spontaneous.

From the sounds I could hear, he was stroking his dick. As I opened my eyes to watch him, I moaned at the sight of it, full, hard, and flushed a darker pink with his need. “God, Tristan, you’re beautiful,” I breathed. I wanted to wrap my lips around it and taste it, lick it, take it deep in my mouth and feel the hardness at the back of my throat. I watched him stroke himself, as I pressed that one finger to my clit and flicked it like a wanton nymph. My body needed him. I needed him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You know, I could do that. Make you beg. Tie your hands to the headboard so I could kiss and taste you as much as I wanted. All you could do is take it, baby. Take it and beg me for more. Would you like that? If you were good for me, I’d give you as much as you could stand.” He looked up and nodded, gesturing for me to move my finger. “Put your finger inside you baby. I wanna see.”