I haven’t locked my door since we moved in.
Carefully, I make my way back to the bed and pick up the phone.
“Are you still there?” I ask.
“I am.”
“Sorry, I had to close the door.”
I get comfortable on my bed and shove my pants down, freeing my dick and wrapping my hand around it.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Now stroke your cock and tell me how badly you wish it was my mouth.”
“Fuck,” I breathe out. “I wish it was your mouth on me right now. It feels so good, Master.”
“That’s right, slave. Keep going.”
“I miss your mouth on me. I think about it all the time.”
“Be specific.”
“The sounds you make. The heat of your mouth. How soft your tongue is—” I groan, moving my hand faster. “My favorite is the look on your face when I come.”
“I love your cum.”
“I’ll give it to you whenever you want it.”
“I want it right now,” he growls.
I whimper, his tone sending sparks through my chest. The demand. The dominance. It’s so sexy.
“Then maybe you should be here instead of there. Fuck—I’m close.”
“Hm, maybe…”
“Harmon—” I gasp. “I’m going to come. Can I? Please?”
It’s silent on the other end of the phone, and I keep moving my hand, holding back as best I can.
“Harmon, please—”
“I don’t know if you deserve to.”
My balls tighten and I grit my teeth. “I do. I’ve been so good today.”
“Have you?”
“Yes. So good. Please tell me I can come.”
I grasp my dick, squeezing to stop myself from coming, waiting on his word so I can.
“Harmon—”
“Say ‘Master, please, tell me I can come.’”
“Master, please tell me I can come!” I growl