Clicking send in my app, with my nude selfie attached, was a little nerve-wracking. I knew he was busy networking with business associates. Would he bother checking his phone at all while on the golf course? Would he suspect it was me, and instinctively know I was probably up to no good?
He knew I had it in me to tease and torment him. When he left, he was keenly aware of the state I was in – naked, satisfied, and needy.
And yet, he still left me.
As I lay on the bed, I reminisced the way he looked at me before he closed the door behind him. It was obvious he was reluctant to go to work…
He likes it when I tease him. He admitted it before. Yet, I knew he was quite capable of maintaining a level head when necessary.
But this time was different. It was his idea to invite me along on his trip, after all.
I shifted my body slightly and placed a pillow under my thighs. One of his.
So what if my juice dribbles on it, I thought to myself. He likes it between my legs. He inhales me when he’s down below.
I smiled to myself at the memory.
He likes giving head. The wetter I am, the more he likes it.
I hoped the nude selfie I sent him would provoke him a little. Provide some incentive to get on with it and come back to me a little quicker.
My plan was to send him a second selfie once he acknowledged the first one. The one my room service guy took of me. Steve.
I focused my thoughts on Steve. He was a little nervous initially, I recalled. But he did take those pictures of me posing, kneeling on the bed, legs spread apart, breasts spilling out over top of my clingy little nightie…
Steve tried to hide how flustered he felt, which I found endearing, but at the same time, flattering. I was at least twice his age, and there he was, my phone in his hand, snapping seductive photos of me while sporting an obvious erection behind his staff uniform.
What was it Steve said to me when I dismissed him? That he was available to help me out again? Something like that.
Again, I smiled at myself. I really shouldn’t be left alone when I’m aroused like I was.
Or still am…
Reliving the scene with Steve in my mind, I let my hand wandered along my leg, up along my thigh and toward the heat and wetness at my junction.
Should I play a little?
I hesitated at first, worried I’d get myself too worked up. I really wanted to save myself for him.
But I was bored. Distracted.
Fuck it, I told myself and inserted first one, then two fingers into my pussy.
If I edge for a while, it’ll pay off more, later…
I moved my hand a little further inward, my fingers a little deeper.
No wonder he likes it in there, I thought as I tried to reach even deeper. So soft and velvety. Tight. And slippery…
I removed my fingers from my spongy canal and sopped up a bit of the moisture.
This is what he likes on his face, I thought. And on his tongue. He likes to taste me.
I looked at my hand. My index finger was wet and glistening. Cautiously, I lifted my hand toward my face, close to my nose. I sniffed a little, then inhaled my scent.
It smelled sweet. And reminded me vaguely of the shower I had earlier. There was just a hint of lavender from the shower gel I slathered myself in after I shaved myself bare.
Again, I inspected my the moisture on my finger.
Maybe I should lick it clean, I pondered, thinking back to some of the erotic stories I’ve grown fond of reading, where the men have their female lovers lick and suck all sorts of things. Fingers, or toys.
Too bad he’s not here to lick me, I complained to myself.
I recalled back to our first time together, the first time he went down on me. How he edged me until I finally climaxed after a time of blissful torture. How he climbed on top of me after, his face wet with my juices, kissing me. Probing his tongue into my mouth. Making me taste myself on him.
Coming down from my orgasm at the time, I didn’t even think about it. It didn’t occur to me to hesitate kissing his face. I remember reaching for him, pulling him close. Wanting to respond to his desire just before he fucked me.
Again, I looked at my finger.
I’m going to lick it clean, I decided and sucked it into my mouth. Then I smiled at myself.
I should have videoed that, I deliberated. Filmed myself playing, then sucking. He would have loved that.
As I lay there dreaming up the next step to my mischievous plan, I was interrupted by my buzzing phone.
Startled, I picked it up.
There was a text message from him. He must have seen my nude picture.
To be continued…