She sat alone in front of her PC, taking in the musings of an unseen lover. His hands worshipped her curves in the chapel of her mind. His lips and tongue and teeth praised her from countless miles away, while, in her chair, her nether regions responded in a not-so-imaginary manner.
As his words flashed on the screen, her desire grew, making her a pawn in her own passionate game. Her already erect nipples begged for attention, and she didn't disappoint them.
Through the scant, silky material of her tiny tank top, her breasts pleaded to be caressed. Her hands rose to cradle them, to measure their taught, ripe fullness. In slow, tantalizing strokes, she massaged them. Placing her palms over the rosy buds, she felt them tighten and bead into sensitive buttons of excruciating pleasure, triggering a flutter deep inside her. His typed ministrations continued as the first drops of moisture collected on her white satin panties.
Her right hand travelled lower, the index finger circling her bellybutton at a slow, lazy pace. The flat nub of sensitive flesh between her legs began to throb in anticipation as the fingers of her left hand continued to mercilessly tease her right nipple. They pinched, pulled, rolled and squeezed until the pleasure became spiked with pain as the fabric covering it grazed the abused nerves like the tongue of the man on the other end, velvet soft and brutal.
