After the video call ends, I turn off my phone and collapse back against my pillow, still breathing heavily after the release I begged him for. I desperately need a drink of water but I still can't feel my toes, and the throbbing between my thighs is only growing stronger instead of fading. Almost like Daddy telling me to come for him was just the beginning.
I drag my left hand slowly across my breasts, kneading gently as my right hand drifts back down my stomach, sliding through the sheen of sweat and heat left behind from the story he told me, then dipping back into the floral waistband of my panties. I let myself fade into the vivid description of being restrained beneath him while he teases the leather crop up and down my thighs. But this time we aren't the only ones in the room.
I can feel myself tense in anticipation of the strike that would come next, marking my ass brightly enough for the two of them to see, even across the dimly lit room. As the scene goes on I can only imagine how debauched, how insatiable I must look to them as I submit to his every whim--my lips slick and swollen, my nipples pinched between his fingers, and my pussy stretched around his cock.
I imagine letting him worship my body however he pleases as they look on and begin to take their pleasure as well. But as their hands move languidly down their bodies, kept to themselves at first but soon grasping toward each other as well, I realize that the mixed pleasure and shame of letting them watch my body be used won't be enough to reach my second orgasm. I want them to use me as well. I need them to, and not just for the sake of my next release.
