And, oh, does that sight arouse me. Even though I can only see her neck and chin, it’s so unmistakably her. I would recognize those hands anywhere. The curve of her belly. The way she spreads her legs a little asymmetrically, with her left knee never managing to fall as deeply as her right.

I knead my own breasts and seeing her like that, and lying here in this position, does have the strange effect on me that when my hands touch my own skin, I can almost believe it’s her touching me. Because we’re doing this together. This is the kind of intimacy we can share across the many miles of distance.

Camille runs one finger delicately over her nether lips and my nipples harden at the sight. I’m perplexed by my rapidly growing levels of arousal. I bring my own hand down and mirror her movements, as though she’s guiding me, wordlessly telling me what to do with myself.

Camille seems to have a nose for these things, a knack for drawing me out of my own prudish self the way Rebecca never could. Maybe it’s because she’s French, though that seems a bit simplistic. She’s many, many more things than French, though, silly as it may sound, the fact that she is adds to her allure.

Camille circles her finger around her clit and as she does I wish I had a bigger screen. I wish I had pushed the record button so I could zoom in later.

I follow her lead and am in for another surprise when I circle my own clit. The touch shoots through me like an arrow of lust was shot straight from her house in Paris and traveled all the way to Sydney at an unimaginable speed.

My finger remains glued to my clit as I watch Camille stroke herself. She might be putting on a show for me when she lets two fingers slip inside of herself and utters a slight moan. Whatever her intentions, what she’s doing is not missing its effect, because I feel compelled to increase the speed at which my finger circles my clit. The vision of Camille’s own fingers fucking her is, by far, the most arousing thing I’ve ever seen. I make a mental note to ask her to do so when we’re physically together, curious about the effect it would have on me then. Maybe the fact that I’m enjoying it so much right now is inexorably connected to this particular situation. To her being so far away and us trying to create closeness by doing this. Maybe the lust traveling through me right now is helped by the lack of proximity because I’m not sure I could do this with her in the room, whether I could reach this stage of abandon.