finger in the water and was suddenly struck by an idea that made her grin widely. “How would you like to follow a few orders right now?”
The silence on his end of the line grew heavy before he finally answered. “Mistress?”
“Are you alone?”
“Oui, Maîtresse.”
Chance shivered. She loved it when he slipped into the Cajun French he’d grown up with. “Get comfortable, Landry. And by that, I mean strip and find a place to sit. I think we both deserve a little fun.”
The water splashed softly as she put her phone to speaker and set it aside, then drew her legs up until she lay with them wide. She cupped her breasts, then slid her hands slowly down her body.
“You ready, Boudreaux? Oh, and put your phone on speaker.” She rubbed her hands up and down her stomach and thighs while she waited.
“Ready, Mistress.”
Chance smiled as the day’s tension drained out of her, replaced by anticipation. “Are you sitting or lying down?”
“Lying on the bed.”
“Good.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hands still running slowly up and down her body. “No touching anything until I say. I want your hands at your sides, palm down on the bed.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Eyes closed.” Her hands traveled up, lightly squeezing her breasts, then wrapping around the back of her neck and down again. The water slapped gently as her arms moved in and out of it. “I want you to picture me as I touch myself. I want you to pretend you’re here watching. I’d have you restrain your hands, but you’re so good at following orders, you won’t need it, will you?”
“No, Maîtresse. My hands won’t move.”
“Good. I’m soaking in the tub. It’s a great old claw-footed monstrosity, nice and deep, and the water is scalding—exactly the way I like it.” She splashed the water a little, for effect. “I have my legs pulled up and spread wide, everything on display while my hands travel from my thighs to my breasts and back again, only touching. Have you got the image?”
A soft groan came over the phone, followed by “Oui.”
“Are you hard yet, Landry? Picturing me? Should I have you stand at attention?” Chance laughed, pleased by the idea. “Oh I like that. Stand for me, Sergeant. At ease. Are you standing?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Mmm. Close your eyes again, and don’t move a muscle. I’ve been tracing patterns on my breasts with my nails. It feels lovely, little swirling touches, but my nipples are feeling neglected. Picture yourself sucking on them, one at a time, worshiping them with your mouth.” She rolled her nipples, tugging at them gently. “Biting, even.” She added a few sharp pinches, then returned to tracing her nails around the soft mounds.
Chance pinched her nipples one last time, feeling a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to her core, then cupped her breasts again before smoothing her hands down the plane of her stomach. “I’m letting my hands slide down my torso now, slowly. Savoring the touch, pressing my fingers hard into my skin. My clit is throbbing with need, but I’m not ready for it yet. I want to enjoy this, to draw it out. I want you dying to touch yourself before I come.”
There was no reply from Landry, but she could picture him standing there, jaw clenched, muscles flexed, one hand gripping the other behind his back.
“Are you hard, Sergeant?”
“Yes.”
Her grin widened. “I’m running my hands over the juncture of my thighs, so close, but not quite touching. It’s maddening, in such a good way. Look down at yourself, and tell me what you see. How hard are you?”
Landry grunted. “So hard it hurts, Maîtresse. My bibitte, he’s standing at attention, nice and tall. He’s throbbing, he is.”
Chance sucked in a breath as she pictured him. Her pussy ached at the image of his dick straining and him waiting, immobile. Her hands slipped over her labia, a single finger dipping between them, and she moaned a little at her slickness even
The silence on his end of the line grew heavy before he finally answered. “Mistress?”
“Are you alone?”
“Oui, Maîtresse.”
Chance shivered. She loved it when he slipped into the Cajun French he’d grown up with. “Get comfortable, Landry. And by that, I mean strip and find a place to sit. I think we both deserve a little fun.”
The water splashed softly as she put her phone to speaker and set it aside, then drew her legs up until she lay with them wide. She cupped her breasts, then slid her hands slowly down her body.
“You ready, Boudreaux? Oh, and put your phone on speaker.” She rubbed her hands up and down her stomach and thighs while she waited.
“Ready, Mistress.”
Chance smiled as the day’s tension drained out of her, replaced by anticipation. “Are you sitting or lying down?”
“Lying on the bed.”
“Good.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hands still running slowly up and down her body. “No touching anything until I say. I want your hands at your sides, palm down on the bed.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Eyes closed.” Her hands traveled up, lightly squeezing her breasts, then wrapping around the back of her neck and down again. The water slapped gently as her arms moved in and out of it. “I want you to picture me as I touch myself. I want you to pretend you’re here watching. I’d have you restrain your hands, but you’re so good at following orders, you won’t need it, will you?”
“No, Maîtresse. My hands won’t move.”
“Good. I’m soaking in the tub. It’s a great old claw-footed monstrosity, nice and deep, and the water is scalding—exactly the way I like it.” She splashed the water a little, for effect. “I have my legs pulled up and spread wide, everything on display while my hands travel from my thighs to my breasts and back again, only touching. Have you got the image?”
A soft groan came over the phone, followed by “Oui.”
“Are you hard yet, Landry? Picturing me? Should I have you stand at attention?” Chance laughed, pleased by the idea. “Oh I like that. Stand for me, Sergeant. At ease. Are you standing?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Mmm. Close your eyes again, and don’t move a muscle. I’ve been tracing patterns on my breasts with my nails. It feels lovely, little swirling touches, but my nipples are feeling neglected. Picture yourself sucking on them, one at a time, worshiping them with your mouth.” She rolled her nipples, tugging at them gently. “Biting, even.” She added a few sharp pinches, then returned to tracing her nails around the soft mounds.
Chance pinched her nipples one last time, feeling a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to her core, then cupped her breasts again before smoothing her hands down the plane of her stomach. “I’m letting my hands slide down my torso now, slowly. Savoring the touch, pressing my fingers hard into my skin. My clit is throbbing with need, but I’m not ready for it yet. I want to enjoy this, to draw it out. I want you dying to touch yourself before I come.”
There was no reply from Landry, but she could picture him standing there, jaw clenched, muscles flexed, one hand gripping the other behind his back.
“Are you hard, Sergeant?”
“Yes.”
Her grin widened. “I’m running my hands over the juncture of my thighs, so close, but not quite touching. It’s maddening, in such a good way. Look down at yourself, and tell me what you see. How hard are you?”
Landry grunted. “So hard it hurts, Maîtresse. My bibitte, he’s standing at attention, nice and tall. He’s throbbing, he is.”
Chance sucked in a breath as she pictured him. Her pussy ached at the image of his dick straining and him waiting, immobile. Her hands slipped over her labia, a single finger dipping between them, and she moaned a little at her slickness even
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