Love Chat

Vanda Lust misses her boyfriend badly while he's gone. Their chat has her aching, thighs pressing together. She sinks two fingers into her slick shaved cunt and starts working herself the way he would—slow, then harder. The robe slips away. Only her striped socks stay. Her other hand traces up her flat stomach, cups a small breast, pinches the stiff nipple. She imagines his teeth there instead. She rolls to her side, knees drawn up, and fucks herself at an angle she swears he owns. Palm dragging over her clit in tight circles, two fingers plunging knuckle-deep, she squeezes every muscle like she’s gripping his cock. The orgasm hits fast and mean; her body bows and she bites the pillow, convinced she can smell him, feel his grip on her hips yanking her back onto him. When the shaking stops, she reaches for the laptop again, breathing still ragged, and types the whole thing out for him.