It was now six.
She was more than a little depressed about it. She tried to recall the details of her last tryst, but the memories were fuzzy and not worth the effort. After all, he’d only made her come once.
Masturbating was beginning to lose its effect. Oh, sure, it relieved the pressure, but having a warm body on top of hers, calloused hands running over soft skin, a hot mouth clamped on her clit…
Jesus! She had to stop thinking about it. She’d already replaced her vibrator. Twice.
She didn’t want a relationship, she just wanted to get laid. And she knew exactly who to call.
She sat in her living room, talking to her laptop, drinking in the smiling face that filled the screen. The air in her apartment was sharp with the smell of sex. She felt somewhat relieved, but she needed more.
Steve leaned forward, his easy grin enhanced by a narrow white soul patch. She wondered how soft it was, whether it would tickle or scrape. She couldn’t decide which she wanted more.
“What are you doing this weekend?” It was a casual enough question, one she’d asked every time they spoke, every time they had cyber-sex.
“Just hanging with friends.” He popped open a can of beer. “You?”
“I was thinking I need a vacation.”
Steve leaned back in his chair, his cock now flaccid, though a few minutes ago, it was erect while he'd fisted it for her. She liked watching him come, liked that he talked dirty to her until she did.
He took a pull from his beer. “Good idea. Somewhere south?”
“No. I was thinking north.” Throbbing again, she sucked two fingers into her mouth then brought them down to her pussy, groaned. “I haven’t been to New York.”
Steve sat up then. “Here? You’re coming here?”
“Is that a problem?” Her fingers swirled around her clit and she imagined his tongue licking her, his greedy mouth sucking the swollen nub.
“Fuck no.” Steve sat back and stroked his cock, once-again ready. “This weekend?”
She increased the volume so she could hear the wet sucking sounds his hand made as it stroked.
“Saturday.” Her voice was breathy now and her hips pumped, greedy for more.
“Perfect,” he said, rotating his hand once around the head, then wrapping it around the shaft, he stroked with lightning speed. “What time are you coming?”
She opened her thighs wider, rammed two fingers into her cunt, pistoned like a jackhammer.
“Now!” She threw her head back as the orgasm shot through her, her hips thrusting up as she imagined Steve fucking her.
When she finally lifted her head, he was sitting in his chair, wiping himself down with a towel.
“That was fucking awesome,” he said.
She grinned at him. “Wait until Saturday.”