You seem wound up tonight. I'm sure if I ask you the reason given will be deprivation of me. I understand the feeling. As if talking to you on the phone wasn't bad enough. Now I can see you, all of you . . . and we both know you don't like to stay clothed for long. Just hearing your voice does something to me I can't quite explain. It's like my body resonates to your call.
Sitting and talking to you gets me so wound up I end up biting myself. It's an instinctual thing. The need to release somehow, anyway I can. The bruises can attest to just how badly I miss you, all of you. Nothing easily hidden or explained either. Eventually after you teasing my by stripping I get convinced to return the favor. It seems perfect, my roommate is home for the weekend, I have nowhere to be, and we are both incredibly horny.
I maneuver the camera to see my entire bathroom door. I feel foolish stripping for someone who is not in the room with me. But a promise is a promise; especially to someone I love so dearly. I finally get up enough courage to at least get out of my chair; still not sure I can really do this. I walk to in front of the door, hoping you can see well enough. I guess you can, because you are sitting very still, and not telling me you can't. I take a deep breath, as my pulse is pounding, and I am still a bit light headed from the vodka, just enough to hang onto and get through this. I grasp the bottom of my tank top and wait a second before slowly, and hopefully sexily, pulling it over my head. I'm not wearing a bra, so my breasts are in full view now.
They are probably getting all tight around my nipples form the sudden rush of cooler air hitting them, but I can't stop to luxuriate in that now. I slowly slip my fingers underneath the elastic waistband of my track pants. I slowly slide them closer to my ass, which isn't far since they sit low. I mush them over the edge of my ass and down my legs. I kick them off from around my ankles and feet, knowing if I bend over to get them, I might loose my courage. I am now standing in front of you in just a pair of panties. Plain white, but micro fiber thin, and they make me feel like I might as well be totally naked. Going with that feeling, I slide them down my body and let them glide to my feet, and kick them off as well. I am almost sure you would tell me to turn around or move or something if you were here, but you are not, so instead I wait a bit then come sit down.
You fuss a bit and make me move my camera so that you can see as much of me as my desk height will allow, stopping just short of my waist. I know what you really want to see is just below there, but you will just have to wait a few more days to get a view of your lollipop. After a while you try to get me to allow you to "help" me out, because you can see that I am very frustrated sexually. I am sitting on my chair dripping with need. I feel like a bitch in heat I want you so bad. I am not sure if it would change things to have you here in real life, but on camera I just can't conceive of masturbating. I feel like I'm putting on a show, and I know you would be upset if you lost your view in the middle, though you would understand my enthusiasm. After a while you let me go, since you must be up to work in the morning, vowing that your mind will be moving my hands tonight. I doubt it not, since thoughts of you will if your hands don't.
I climb into bed naked, since I have no reason to wear anything. No one to see me, just your in my thoughts. Besides I would just be taking them off anyway.