Teleporn

A couple of days later, Kyle was not happy. It had been a full forty-eight hours since he fucked Emma, and the withdrawal was real. He felt it in his bones—and other places.

His parents had returned for a quick check-in before heading back to their vacation spot, which meant one thing: no Emma. No sneaky morning sex, no blowjob-behind-her-husband's-backs, no pussy. Just cold cereal, awkward family dinners, and blue balls.

As Kyle was lying in his bed, pretending to read a book, his mind was a million miles away, replaying their last encounter. He heard his parents talking in hushed tones in the hallway outside his room, and his ears perked up when they talked about him.

"Honey, you think there's something wrong with our son? I heard him talking to our kitchen table, and the way he looked at you packing those volleyballs? I am worried." His mom was always worried of course, although this time, she might’ve had a point. Kyle had whispered “oh, Emma…” to a particularly shiny melon in the fruit bowl yesterday, and just this morning, he’d nearly moaned when he walked past the coat rack—because someone had hung a robe on it.

“I mean… maybe he’s just going through a phase? Hormones. Puberty. You remember how weird I got—started kissing that one throw pillow you thought was decorative.”

“That pillow was decorative, Rick! And you drew lips on it.”

Kyle winced. Oh my god… I’m gonna have to bleach my brain. He tried to shift focus to his book—some ancient fantasy novel about wizards and dragons—but his eyes landed on an orb-shaped crystal ball illustration.

Damn book, who would've though you would betray me like that.

As he tried so hard to distract himself, his phone buzzed with a message.

Emma:

"Missing me already, boy?

Want to play?"

This bitch dares play with me? His pants hit the ground faster than his though reached the brain, and finger pressed send faster than the "this may not be the best idea" though was formed.

Three dots appear. Then more dots. Then…

Emma:

"Kyle. Seriously? A dick pic?? That’s your idea of foreplay?

Ugh. You’re lucky it’s kinda impressive. Still, manners, mister. "

Kyle stared at the screen, waiting, heart thumping in time with something else that was… rapidly rising to attention.

Then it came—ping.

Emma:

“You know what? Fine. Two can play this game. ”

“Bet your imagination’s already filling in the gaps, isn’t it?”

“And before you ask—no, I’m not wearing anything underneath. ”

Kyle's eyes widened, his hand moved under the blanket, and his brain promptly filed a formal resignation letter.

He texted back with one trembling hand.

Kyle:

"You’re evil. I’m gonna die. Please keep going."

Another ping.

Emma:

“Only if you earn it. Be a good boy and beg a little…”

Kyle opened his mouth to say literally anything, but before he could type, the door slammed open.

“Sweetie! We’re heading out now, just wanted to say goodbye!”

Kyle shot up in bed—blanket flying, phone flung somewhere toward the lamp, and yelped, “KNOCK FIRST!”

“Whoa there, champ, what’s got you so jumpy? Just reading, huh?” His dad was really interested in that?

Kyle, red-faced and gripping the blanket to his chest like a Victorian maiden, managed a strangled, “Fantasy novel. Lot of tension.”

His mom tilted her head, glancing at the crumpled book upside-down on the nightstand and the suspicious tent forming beneath his blanket.

“…Right. Well. You behave, young man,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And maybe talk to real girls sometime.” They stood in the door frame for a couple of more seconds before he nodded and promised to missed them.

As they finally walked out, his phone buzzed again. He grabbed it like a starving man reaching for bread.

Emma:

“Still want to play, or did Mommy tuck you in already? ”

He stared at the screen, sighed, and texted back:

"They’re gone. Clothes off. Let’s resume."

The dots appeared again, teasing him. He waited eagerly, practically feeling the tension in the air. Then, finally, her message popped up:

Emma:

"Mmm, as much as I want to… my hubby’s home now. He’s in the mood. "

"Guess I have to take care of him first. We’ll pick this up another time."

Kyle’s heart sank. This bitch. He slammed his hand on the mattress, frustration bubbling up inside him. How could she get him all worked up and then just—leave him hanging like this?

Kyle:

"You got me going, and now you want to call it quits? No way. Give you hubby a handjob or something and get back to sending me nudes!"

More dots. Waiting. Kyle could almost feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. Then her response came.

Emma:

"Fine. But you are really pushing the limits tonight, mister."

Kyle:

"That’s not even fair. I’m here suffering. Your stupid hubby gets the real thing while I get crumbs."

Emma:

"Poor baby. Guess you’ll just have to imagine it’s my hand instead of yours. "

Kyle growled, tossing the blanket aside.

Kyle:

"Fuck that! You get your horny married ass into the bathroom and get to work on your dripping wet pussy. NOW!"

Emma's POV here.

Emma giggled, feeling a thrill run down her spine at Kyle's audacity. She glanced at Tom, who was obliviously scrolling through his phone in the living room. Quickly, she snuck into the bathroom, her heart racing. She didn’t know if it was the thrill of potentially getting caught or the power Kyle had over her that made her so wet, but she was eager to obey.

Locking the door behind her, she leaned against the cool porcelain of the sink, her hand immediately sliding under her robe to touch herself. Her pussy was slick and swollen, begging for attention. She teased her clit, her breath coming in short gasps as she texted Kyle back.

"I'm touching myself now, Kyle. Tell me what to do," she typed, her thumbs flying over the screen.

Her phone vibrated almost immediately.

"Good girl. Now, spread those legs wider. I want to hear how wet you are for me."

Emma did as she was told, her knees knocking together slightly as she spread herself open, her hand moving faster. The sound of her wetness filled the bathroom, and she leaned down to whisper into her phone. "I'm so wet, Kyle," she murmured.

"Mmm, I bet you are. Now, rub your clit for me," he instructed, his voice thick with lust.

Emma's thumb circled her clit, her eyes fluttering shut as the sensation built. She could feel herself getting closer to the edge, her legs trembling slightly. "Fuck, Kyle, I’m going to cum," she whispered.

"Good. I want you to cum for me," he said, his voice firm. "Now, tell me, who do you belong to?"

Emma bit her lip, the words coming out in a rush. "I belong to you."

"That's right," he murmured, his voice like a dark caress. "You're mine."

Her orgasm hit her like a wave, crashing over her as she rubbed herself faster and faster. She moaned out loud, her body shaking with the intensity of it. Through the haze of pleasure, she heard the sound of the bathroom door handle jiggle—Tom was trying to get in.

With a wicked smile, she did her best to whisper: "I'm cumming now. And it’s all for you."

Through the haze of pleasure, Emma heard the bathroom door handle jingle—Tom was trying to get in. For a moment all she could focus on was the delicious feeling of Kyle’s words echoing in her mind as she climaxed. Luckily, she hid the phone just in time for the door to swing open.

Tom stepped in, eyes widening in confusion, but Emma barely registered his presence. As the wave of pleasure subsided, Emma composed herself quickly, trying to mask her flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. She turned to face Tom, forcing a laugh.

"Sorry, darling," she said, voice breathless, "I just got a bit... carried away."

Tom stared at her for a second, eyebrows raised, before shrugging it off. "It’s fine, babe. Just... You know, if you’re still worked up, I could—"

Emma cut him off with a sly smile. "Oh, sweetie," she said, walking past him to the mirror, adjusting her hair. "I’m good now. No need for you to help me out. You’ve got your... limitations."

Tom’s face flushed, the hint of embarrassment creeping in. "I... well, okay," he muttered, clearly deflated.

Emma shot him a look over her shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure you’re doing your best."