"Incoming call," Orlando growls. "Hold on, let me reject it." A couple of seconds later, he sounds much better. "Now, where were we?"

"You were telling me to keep touching myself," I say.

"Oh, yes. Keep touching yourself, but imagine it's me there instead. It's me caressing you between your legs. Me sliding my finger in and out of you. Me massaging your clit with my thumb."

I moan again. Imagining him anywhere near me intensifies everything a hundred ...