I plugged my headphones in. The mouse hovered over the play button, waiting for me to click it. It wasn’t even a question whether I would press play or not, which was a sure sign that I absolutely shouldn’t have watched. However, I couldn’t control the sudden urge that overtook me. I needed to see Joel, needed to hear his voice. Even if I couldn’t see that cocky smile, I wanted to hear it in his words.

“You know what they say. If the mountain won’t come to Muhammad…then Muhammad must go to the mountain. That sounds like I’m calling you a mountain. You know what? Never mind.”

I chuckled lightly at his words, but choked on the next laugh that came. Joel, still standing, dropped his jeans and stood with his feet apart, drawing my eyes up to his very obvious erection, already thick and ruddy. In the light that painted the room, I could see every vein that curved down his length clear to his cock-head. His torso twisted away from the camera, and my eyes zeroed in on his piercing, prompting flashbacks of what it felt like between my fingers, on my tongue, and slipping through my folds.

He walked closer to where the camera was positioned. The camera jostled then zoomed in on the bed in the background. Was this Joel’s bed? It fit him perfectly. The headboard was made of large, thick pieces of wood that climbed so far up the wall I couldn’t see the top with the camera zoomed in. Heather-gray colored sheets matched the natural colors I’d captured glimpses of when I first popped the CD in.

He hopped on the bed with enough gusto to make the whole bed shake beneath his weight.

“Those thirty minutes at the Cosmopolitan got me thinking. You don’t remember much of that first night we met, but I do.”

He’s right. After too much tequila and not enough in my stomach to absorb all of the liquor that burned through my body, I was so drunk that my memory could only grasp bits and pieces of the night that united us in some weird last-people-on-Earth type of way. But what I could remember was enough to make even Kerri blush. His hands were warm and seemed to burn me wherever he touched—which was everywhere. His skin was soft despite his rigid muscles, but it was also the things he said and how he handled my body. His touch vacillated between soft caresses and a tough grip, making me feel like he was imprinting my soul with the touch of his hand, so I would never forget him.

“You were so responsive to my touch.”

He spread out on the bed, his face still out of frame, but the camera now directed from his lower chest down to his thick thighs and swollen shaft. Joel grabbed his dick with the same touch that I was familiar with. He handled my body with the same tenacity as he handled his own. He pumped and I watched in fascination at the thick erection that he stroked nice and slow, as if drawing it out to build up the pressure building in my core. I felt a flush descend over my body and wondered where his eyes were. The eyes I couldn’t see but remembered how they watched me. Were they imagining me now, waiting for the moment I would lose control and cave into my body’s need, or were they watching with rapt fascination at how his cock disappeared beneath his palm?

I licked my lips at the first sight of pre-come bubbling at the surface.

“Your pussy was so tight against my fingers. You don’t know how bad I wanted to fist you just to hear the moans that would escape those fucking lips. Ah, those lips…” He said “lips” like he was recalling the memory of my anatomy. His hand pumped faster, and I could hear his raspy breathing rush harder. I could no longer deny the effect seeing this man had over my body. I was a slave to the lust that overcame me. Unbuttoning my pants, I slid my fingers inside my panties, massaging the outside of my cleft.

“And, fuck, how wet you get. You could literally wring out the sheets, they were so drenched.”

His hips thrust up into his fisting hand. I moved my panties to the side to have direct access to my clit, hardened by the visual of Joel literally losing himself to the memory of me. More pre-come leaked, and I wondered how long of a video this was. I couldn’t imagine him being able to hold out much longer. I’d barely touched myself and already I could feel my insides coiling, readying for the flood of my release.

“But nothing felt as good as the first time I slid this cock into that slick cunt of yours. Do you remember now? How deep I went? You were literally gasping for breath. Begging me for mercy. Each time I rocked into you, you gasped. Are you gasping yet, Blaire?”

His words speared into me.

Honest and Primal.

Tempting.

I couldn’t see those green eyes of his, but I somehow felt them—peering into the deepest parts of me. Deeper than anyone had ever been. The words spoken weren’t meant to be sarcastic or cocky, but spoken by a man who had experience. Was I gasping yet? How could I not gasp? I was completely beholden to his every word, every move. I was transfixed by the rhythm of his movement, the lines of his body all working in conjunction with his pumping hand. For the first time, I became aware of the true magnitude of his beauty. Before, he was hot, fucking sexy, a mountain of a man filled with enough charm to talk even the most blushing of virgins into tossing aside their virginities like used condoms.

My chest was tight with every rush of breath that escaped my lips. Joel’s skin was flushed as he angled his legs toward the camera, showing me his full monty. Continuing to stroke himself, he moved his other hand to cup his balls, giving them a tug that made him moan louder.

“I wish I was there right now. You know what I’d do,” he groaned, pausing a moment to gather his breath before continuing, “I’d open up that pretty little pussy and I’d whisper things. Things only meant for your body to hear. Would you like that, Blaire? I’d be so close, you could feel my breath fanning across your cunt. I’d be able to see every little drop leaving your cunt and sliding down your ass onto the sheets below. Do you feel that need? I do. I’ve felt it since the first moment I watched you orgasm. I’d never seen something so sexy or so beautiful, Blaire.”

Joel was losing control. His fluid movements were more erratic, his chest climbed faster. He groaned long and low, like a sigh almost, except heavier. His hand clutched tighter and then he erupted. Long jets of come spilled over his hand and onto his stomach, his milky white essence shining brilliantly against his sun-kissed skin. He continued groaning and I rubbed harder, strumming my clit between my fingers until I felt a tingling sensation traverse my body, spiraling until it reached a point my body could no longer contain, at which point I orgasmed. Joel’s name fell from my lips—a quiet gasp that seemed amplified in the quiet of the room.

“Fuck, Blaire, look what you made me do.”

Joel’s laugh filled the room, and just as I thought he would get up to clean up or turn the camera off, he did neither. He sat up against the pillows, his face still out of shot and said, “Blaire, I’m sorry I should have told you the minute I knew. Please meet me. Please. We can meet wherever. Please don’t make me send you more videos. I will, but I’d much rather be making videos with you.”

“Huh, never going to happen,” I said aloud.

“I just want to get to know you. Don’t make me pull the ‘no living relatives’ card. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me, but if it’s all I can get out of you, I’ll take it. Please, Blaire.”

With that, he walked back to the edge of the room, where the camera was most likely propped up on some bookcase or dresser and turned off the camera. My screen faded to black before returning back to the ocean desktop image. I sat staring at my monitor while catching my breath and wondering what to do next. Although I didn’t mind getting another one of his videos, I couldn’t let him continue. If only for the simple fact that he was putting us both at risk the longer he continued these attempts to get me to meet him.