Touch Yourself

[Brielle's POV]

I stare at my naked self in the mirror, taking in the curves of my body while picturing what it would feel like for someone to touch them. Since my run-in with that psycho killer earlier on and his taunting, seductive words, I was still all hot and bothered, but not for him. Instead, I wanted someone else, someone that I knew I couldn't have but desperately wanted to meet.

Smiling to myself, I pick up my phone and position it so that I can see my whole body in the mirror, and then I'm taking a picture. Fine, if he wanted to play hard to get, then I would just continue to taunt him until he couldn't stand it anymore.

“Let's see what you say to this,” I murmur, opening my texts and finding the string of messages between me and L.

B: I want you.

I send the text while my pussy twitches with desire, begging for the man of my dreams to come and please it, and then I send the photo.

Once they've both gone through, I turn and head into my room so I can collapse on my bed until my phone dings. The response is fairly quick, and I'm happy to find that L is still awake; otherwise, I would be left waiting until the following morning to see just what he thought.

Rolling over, I brace myself as I open the response that is waiting for me.

L: You know the rules.

Ugh, that wasn't what I was wanting in return at all.

The rules. It is always the fucking rules. I had to be able to stand on my own two feet before he would show himself. And if we met before that, he would disappear entirely from my life. Why he wanted this, I didn't know, but during nights like these, it drove me fucking crazy.

How was I supposed to know when I would actually be able to do any of that? What if he grew tired of waiting for me by then?

B: Then I'll go find someone else to satisfy me.

Rolling back over, I stare at the ceiling, contemplating doing what I threatened, but before I come up with the courage to do so, my phone dings again. And I'm met with a message that nearly makes me cream my fucking self.

L: You're mine, little songbird, and if you let another man touch you, he'll be six feet under come morning.

I was his. This was the first time he was possessive of me, and I had to admit it was hot.

B: Then come claim what is yours.

Sighing, I begin to get comfortable and then gently run my fingers along my cheek while picturing them as L's.

B: I'm in need of your touch; what should I do?

This game had already gone too far this evening, so what was one more step?

L: Pleasure my pussy for me.

Eyes widening, I take in the words on my screen in disbelief. Was he really telling me to masturbate for him? But what good was that when he couldn't see or hear me?

Deciding to push even further, I dial his number while my hand moves down to my neck and then my breast.

“Little songbird." His voice is gruff, and he sounds just as hot and bothered as me when he answers. “Are you trying to make me crazy?”

“Maybe,” I purr, taking my nipple between my fingers and pinching it, so a low hum of excitement escapes me. “But didn't you start it by telling me to pleasure myself?”

Oh god, it was hot to hear his voice, and his excited breathing was just turning me on even more. Was this what he would sound like when we were together? I could just picture his hot breath brushing my skin, sending goosebumps racing up my arms and along my bidy. And his strong hands cupping my breasts, my ass, and then plunging into my pussy so that his fingers could penetrate me for the first time. And then his dick. Fuck. I wanted him so badly. This was pure torture.

“Did you want me to hear your sweet moans, little songbird?” He asks now, snapping me out of my spiral. "If so, why are you trying to keep them low? Sing out for me, my sweet girl. Let me hear how fucking good you feel."

“I'd rather you see,” I admit. “I want you to see the way my fingers trail along my skin, down my stomach, and between the folds of my pussy, where my swollen clit is waiting for release.”

Whimpering, I do exactly that, releasing my nipple and trailing my hand down my body until it dips between my thighs. And once it is in place, I pull my phone away from my ear, take a picture of what I'm doing, and then send it to L.

Once it is sent, I bring my phone back to my ear and wait until I hear his intake of breath and rumble of excitement over what he just received.

“Fuck, little songbird,” he growls. “Are you trying to end all of this before it even begins?”

“No,” I whisper, feeling a flare of loneliness at the thought of him disappearing. “I just want you so damn badly right now.”

I didn't know if it was the alcohol talking or what, but I couldn't stop the years of yearning from trickling out of my mouth. 

“I want your hand to be the one touching my clit, rubbing slow circles while I become undone."

As I speak, I begin to play with myself while imagining it was L. It wasn't the same, but for now, it would have to do.

“I want your mouth on every inch of my skin. Your hands leaving marks on me. But most of all, I want your dick to fill me to the brim. Tell me,” I continue, “what do you want from me?"

Closing my eyes, I slide my fingers further down my clit until they meet my core. Moaning, I push one in and gently begin to move it.

“Me?” L repeats, his voice breathless, making me wonder if he's stroking himself. “What I want. Hm. I want those lips wrapped around my dick.”

"Oh, fuck,” I moan, shoving another finger in me. “What else?”

“I want to fuck that pretty mouth until you're gagging,” he continues, getting me hotter with his fantasies. “I want to cum all over your beautiful face and breasts and watch you be a good girl and clean it all up after."

Shit. This was hot. So fucking hot. But I wanted to know more. I wanted to know if our fantasies were the same.

“And?” I push, fingering myself faster.

“And then I want to bend you like a fucking pretzel and have my way with you, little songbird. I want to destroy everything that remains pure about you so that you're just as fucking tainted as me.”

At that, I feel it—a powerful orgasm erupting, making my legs shake and my back arch with the force of it.

“Oh god,” I moan, not giving two shits about how embarrassingly loud I'm being. “That's it!”

For a moment, the world around me disappears as I ride my high while L listens to me from the other end of my phone, and when I finally start to come down, I hear a low groan and know he's cumming too.

“Did you just mess up your sheets, little songbird?” He husks, his breathing heavy. “Or should we continue this until you're lying in a puddle of your own juices?”

"Continue," I respond obediently. "That wasn't enough."

"Then pretend that I can see you and show me exactly what you want me to do. Spread those fucking legs wide so that if I were with you, I could see your soaked pussy being played with."

"Dammit, L," I groan, doing as he said. "Why can't you be here?"