#MasturbationMonday: Denial of Service

Good evening, little one.

Melissa’s breath caught as the chat window opened. After half an hour and two glasses of wine to help pass the time, he was finally here. Not nearly as “here” as she wished he was, but Brian traveled on business a lot and she had long since accepted, more or less, that sometimes she just had to take what she could get.

Good evening, Sir, she typed back.

How are you?

She pursed her lips and thought for a moment, debating how to respond. Finally, she decided to go with honesty. He’d know the truth anyway, making any attempt at deception an exercise in futility.

I miss you. When are you coming home again?

I miss you too, little one. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ll be home Thursday afternoon.

On impluse, she pulled up her webcam. As it loaded, she composed herself into a languid pose, one hand between her legs, the other propping up her breast and pinching the nipple to taut prominence. Setting the timer, she snapped a selfie, pressing her lips together in a kiss. Two months before, the idea of sending a nude picture to anyone at all would have been unthinkable. Now, the thought of tempting him with what he was missing at the conference just felt right to her. Imagining his reaction to the whorish pose, so unlike her usual demure facade, caused the corners of her lips to tilt up in a smile.

Attaching the picture to the chat window, she typed, I love you, Sir.

A prolonged silence followed. Had she miscalculated? Was he busy? Was he mad at her? After some thought, she decided only “busy” might explain it. Usually he had to ask her to send such pictures, so the idea of him being upset by receiving one sent on impulse didn’t follow logically.

Instead of worrying, she leaned back and idly slid one finger up and down her seam, distributing the silky moisture which had already seeped from inside her over the sensitive surfaces between her lower lips. She shivered luxuriously in anticipation, but was in no rush to bring herself off, preferring to savor the lovely, tingling chorus of joy from her core.

I love you too, little one. You look beautiful.

She blushed and pressed a little harder on her slit, adding another finger and sliding them over her flesh, avoiding the nub at the apex for the time being. With the other hand, she replied.

Thank you, Sir.

Are you playing with my pretty little pink cunt?

Yes, Sir.

Did you ask my permission first?

She gulped. One of Brian’s rules when he was gone was that she had to ask permission to touch herself or reach climax. She had started stimulating herself without thinking, and as much as she knew he would appreciate the view, she belatedly realized her disobedience was likely to get her in trouble.

A sharp, sweet throb from her clit accompanied thoughts of what sort of “trouble” she might be in, and she fought the urge to slip a finger into her body and find the special place which reminded her so vividly of Brian’s cock inside her.

No, Sir.

Naughty, naughty. What should I do about this?

She knew there was only one acceptable answer.

Do what you want, Sir.

Oh, I will, don’t worry. Turn on your camera.

Instead of wasting time answering, she complied.

Good girl. Now, touch yourself. You may not cum until I say.

Leaning back so her vulva showed for the camera clearly, she closed her eyes and focused on following his orders. As the delicious tension built, her breathing became shallower, more stertorous. Applying direct pressure to her clitoris coaxed a sharp gasp from her, and she had to stop and open her eyes to keep from falling off the ledge.

She reached up and tweaked her nipples, the different feeling temporarily defusing the explosion building between her thighs. “Do you like what you see, Sir?”

A reply flickered across the screen.

I do.

“Can I see you?”

No. Part of your discipline is that you cannot see what I’m doing. You’ll just have to use your imagination.

“You’re such a meanie!”

Don’t you have a cunt to be rubbing, instead of complaining about what you get for breaking my rules?

She twisted her mouth into a pout. “Does Sir like it when I rub my pink little pussy for him? Don’t you wish you had your cock up inside it right now?” She punctuated her running commentary by slipping two fingers into her opening, squatting down lewdly onto her fingers. “Oooh, Sir…I wish you were buried up to the balls in your tight cunt, fucking–” She began to thrust her fingers in and out, slowly, building speed and power with every thrust. “–and taking–” She slammed her fingers into herself cruelly, whimpering with pleasure. “–and tasting–”

Withdrawing her fingers from herself, she held them up so he could see her slick desire shining on them. Then she slid them into her mouth and sucked them clean of her juices. “–this hot, wet little slut, who wants so badly for you to take me like the whore I am.” With an appreciative little mew, she returned her fingers to her pussy and rammed them back to the place where they would give her the most satisfaction.

Do you want to cum, little one?

“Yes, Sir. I want to cum for you so badly…”

Why should I let you?

“Because you love me. Because you want to hear and see me cum for you. Because you know I’m your sweet little slut.” She groaned as she found the rough ridge of skin just behind her pubic bone and a fresh wave of desire swept through her. Lifting her thumb, she ground it into her clit, the direct stimulation stealing her breath and leaving her panting and shaking with renewed urgency to find her release.

Do you want to see what I’m doing?

“Oh, God, yes, Sir. Please show me…”

A second video window opened, filled with an image of his thick, neatly trimmed cock, framed by his frantically working fist.

You see me jacking my hard cock for you?

She whimpered. “It’s beautiful.”

You may cum for me at the same time I cum for you.

“Are you close, Sir?”

Very close, little one. Fuck that wet cunt for me.

She did, redoubling her efforts with her hands, thrusting her hips back and forth in a desperate bid to move just a little deeper, a little more into herself as she stared at Brian working his dick in her honor. A bead of precum formed at the tip of his cock, and she suddenly wished she was on her knees before him so she could lick it off and taste his salty, musky male essence.

“God, I wish I was sucking that cock right now.” She cried out and stopped as she found the edge and stopped, waiting for him to give her the word. “Then you could shove it up inside me and make me your good little whore.”

On the screen, Brian’s fist worked faster, tightening on his shaft and turning the head an angry plum color with his own desire.

Get ready…

She rocked her hips, fucking herself frantically as the erotic pressure built in her loins once more. This time, she reached the limit and held herself there, backing off just enough to keep her on the ledge without tumbling over, giving Brian a show as she enjoyed the sight of him working his hard flesh for her.

His cock jerked spasmodically and then erupted, shooting burst after burst of his cum onto his hand. The sight was too much for Melissa, and she cried out with joy as her own climax hit, slamming into her in a tidal wave of ecstasy. She moaned and sagged back into the chair, keeping her thighs spread wide so he could see the wet evidence of her release glistening on her mound.

“Did I please you, Sir?”

A warm, bemused chuckle from the computer made her jump.

“You did indeed, little one.” The laughter continued for a moment and then subsided.

“So how was your day, sweetheart? I miss you.”

She curled up into the chair, her eyes heavy as she looked into Brian’s smiling face on the screen.

“Better now, Sir.”


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