"Fuck," I heard him mutter, or maybe I imagined it. His anguish hit me like a wave the way he gripped himself, like he was mad at his own cock for being so hard, so needy because of me. He wanted to be over here, slamming into me, but all he could do was watch and jerk off from afar.

That turned me on more. I started touching myself softly now, trailing my fingers down from my tits, over my stomach, light as feathers. My skin prickled under my own touch, every nerve alive. I hooked my thumbs into the sides of my thong and slid it down slowly, stepping...