This is physical torture but the best kind.

Magnolia’s fingers trail down her stomach, slow and deliberate, her eyes locked on mine. She reaches behind her back, unfastening her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms before tossing it aside. My throat goes dry, my grip on the phone tightening as she bares herself to me.

Fuck.

Her thumbs hook into the lace of her panties, dragging them down her hips past her thighs, letting them fall in a heap on the floor before she climbs onto the bed.

She leans back against the pillows, one knee bent, her skin glowing in the soft light.

I can barely breathe.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, her fingers trailing lower, teasing.

“Show me,” I say, my voice rough, needy.

She doesn’t look away as she spreads her legs, her hand slipping between them. She exhales a soft, breathy sigh as her fingers stroke over herself, her body arching into her own touch.

“I miss the way you feel inside me. The way you fill me up and stretch me.”

A guttural groan rips from my throat. I lower my zipper enough to free myself, my hand grips my thick length, matching her slow, torturous rhythm.

The sound of her soft moans through the speaker sends a sharp pulse of need straight through me.

“You have no idea what I’d do to you right now.” My strokes tighten as I picture her beneath me, my hands gripping her, my mouth kissing and sucking on her skin.

“Tell me.” Her breath hitches as her fingers move in a circular motion. “I want to hear you say it.”

My grip tightens. “I’d have you pinned to the bed, powerless, your arms stretched over your head holding the headboard.”

Her eyelids flutter. “And what else?”

“I’d kiss my way down your body, taking my time.” My strokes slow, matching the lazy tease of her fingers. “But you wouldn’t be patient, would you?”

She shakes her head, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, a soft, desperate sound slipping from her throat—a sound that tells me no without saying the word.

“You’d be desperate. Already soaking for me. Already begging.”

A breathy moan slips from her lips. “That’s right.”

I groan, my restraint unraveling. “I’d slide my fingers inside you first, stretch you, feel how tight you are. And then when you were nice and slick, I’d push my cock into you––slow and deep––until you were shaking underneath me.”

She gasps, her back arching, her fingers working in slow, deliberate strokes.

“And then you know what, favorite? I’d wreck your perfect, tight little pussy. And when I came, I’d fill you with every drop of cum and then watch it drip out of you like a stream.”