(DASHA)
Was he serious? "You want to watch me?"
"Yes." Now he was stroking his dick, the muscles in his arm flexing as he pumped that rod between his legs. God, he had a gorgeous cock and I felt an answering tug in my lower half.
I was already wet—I felt the slick moisture between my legs a few seconds ago—but I hadn't let anyone watch me buff my muffin before. It was intimate, a private time for me and my fantasies, with no real men allowed. Only fake ones.
The idea of someone observing it made me feel vulnerable, exposed. Like my layers were stripped away, removing any protection and leaving my most basic, non-bitchy self.
"Why?" I asked, still mesmerized by his jacking off.
"For the same reason you are watching me do this. It is sexy, no?"
