The cool breeze chills and dries the wetness on me, but as I put myself back inside her, the contrast of her heat sends shivers through my body.
“I want you to film me,” she says.
“What?” I ask.
“Where’s your phone?” she asks. “I want to see what it looks like when you fuck me.”
Still moving in and out of her, I look around.
My pants are about five feet behind me, gathering prodigious amounts of dirt from the road as the wind continues its mild assault.
“Now?” I ask.
“Now,” she says. “Don’t put yourself back in me until the video’s rolling.”
It’s almost like I’m with a completely different person, but I’m not complaining. If anything, I’m trying to figure out how I can help her get that additional promotion in six months.
I pull out of her again and quickly pull my phone out of my pocket.
As I return to Melissa, one hand is flipping through my apps, trying to find the camera, while with the other, I’m teasing her pussy.
“Make me come,” she says. “Are you recording yet?”
“Almost there,” I tell her.
“You’re talking about the camera, right?” she asks.
I just laugh.
Finally, after a protracted search, I find the camera app and start recording, watching my hand in the third person now, as one finger, and then two, disappear inside of her.
“Is it on?” she asks.
“It’s on,” I tell her.
“What are you waiting for?” she asks, and I guide my tip to her opening as I pull my fingers from inside of her. “How does it look?” she asks as I glide back in, slowly at first and then completely, watching the screen as if it were a clear window, simply capturing the direction of my eyes.
“It looks pretty amazing,” I tell her.
“Give me the phone,” she says. “I want to see both of our faces when I come.”
It’s a slightly strange request, but who am I to deny it?
I hand her the phone, and apparently, she’s a lot more skilled with it than I am, as she stops the video, switches it to selfie mode, and starts it again before another second has passed.
We’re both looking at the screen now, and I’m trying to avoid the feeling of depersonalization. Being able to see her furrowing brow and the way her breasts are pressing into the hood of the car, barely contained by her bra, is more than enough to keep me in the moment.
My face is just out of the frame, but that’s okay. I’m more interested in looking at her.
Her mouth is moving, but I can’t hear any of the words.
“What are you saying?” I ask.
She finishes whatever the statement was and turns her head to look back at me, saying, “I was telling you to fuck me harder,” she says. “You couldn’t hear me?”
“No,” I tell her. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Well then,” she says before turning back around again. “Fuck me harder.”