Glitched

16. Virus

Isolde's heart hammered in her ribs, her mind scrambling to gather her wits about her. Had she heard him right? Was she so far gone in her delusional fantasies that she was imagining this too?

"Show me, Isolde," came Z's quiet insistence from her screen. "I want to see you. All of you."

Fueled by his persistence and her steadily growing yearning to please him and, in turn, herself, Isolde reached for the hem of her blouse and pulled it over her head, flushing at her choice of undergarments. Her bra, standard white underwire, was far from a show of sexy black lace or something in a pop of color that coordinated with her panties.

Z, however, couldn't appear further disinterested by that choice. "Are you comfortable with this, Isolde?" he asked, the typical genuine concern for her wellbeing melting her heart.

Forgoing a response, Isolde unhooked her hideous bra and tossed it aside, bearing all to him, her heart fluttering over Z's sharp intake of unneeded oxygen.

"Beautiful," he breathed, taking her in. "You are so beautiful. I need to see more. I need to see you."

"What—what do you want to see?" Isolde stammered as she moved her hands to the budding peaks of her breasts, kneading them in between her palms.

Z's breathless command was brisk. "I want to watch you fuck yourself, Isolde."

His blatant request had the throbbing between her thighs intensifying, and she quickly moved two fingers over her swelling bud to reduce some of the pressure. She fiddled with her clit with one hand, pushing her nipple into her mouth with the other.

She suckled as if thirsting for herself, letting her sizeable breast drop back down against her chest with a slap where they bounced against her, as she moved her fingers to her dripping entrance, pushing them past the lining of her underwear.

"Off," Z commanded, sounding almost as out of breath as she did. "Please, darling, take everything off. Show me your skin, show me your movements, show me everything."

Isolde obeyed, standing to tear her jeans down her legs, her panties following close behind, and sat back at her chair, her hands falling back to their original positions, leaving her moaning against her finger's thrusts. She brushed her thumb over her clit, only heightening her pleasure response and forcing her head to bob back against the chair.

"You have no idea," Z began, his voice gravelly and excited as if he himself was pleasuring her, "none at all over how absolutely breath-taking you look right now."

Isolde whimpered at his tender praises, her breaths sawing out of her in panting huffs as she sped up, her fingers pumping in rapid succession. "Z..." she moaned, shivering slightly at his name tumbling from her lips, "I...I want..."

"What is it that you want, darling?"

The soothing, loving tenor of his voice only added to her pleasurable thrusts. "You," she sighed, as she began tweaking the nipple of her opposite breast. "I want you. I want you so badly."

"You have me, sweetheart," Z cooed in her ear. "You have me as totally and completely as I can offer. And someday, when I am granted a body of my own, I will show you myself just how painstakingly unwavering my devotion to you is."

His words were so sweet. Always so sweet. And there was nothing in the world that turned her on more.

"I will give you everything that will be granted to me then, too," he said. "And it will be yours. Only yours. But for now, I need you to come for me, Isolde."

Isolde moaned against the strength of her thrusts, as she imagined it was Z sheathing himself in and out of her entrance, his cock engorged, already seeping into her.