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Hank was just getting out of the shower when he saw his phone light up. An image of a girl in a white fluffy robe showing off a large amount of cleavage and a cheeky smile flashed across the screen. Melanie. Hank grinned, pulled on his own robe – plain grey terry cloth – and wiped his hands before grabbing the phone and swiping to pick up the FaceTime call. He’d been looking forward to his date with Melanie all day, could feel himself getting hard just anticipating what Melanie would be wearing and what they’d end up doing together tonight, each in their own bedrooms, connected only by their WiFi connections and the glow of their iPhone screens.

Hi sir, Melanie greeted Hank in her singsong voice, and Hank struggled to keep his cool as he took in the scene: Melanie, wearing a tight pink velvet dress, sitting on her couch sipping a glass of pink champagne. The dress was skintight and low-cut; Melanie’s tits, pushed up with a lacy black bra, were practically spilling out. Her long brown curls framed her face and cascaded down her back, her long nails were painted shiny pale pink, and her mouth – god damn it, her mouth. Hank was obsessed with Melanie’s mouth and she knew it; they’d been dating long enough that Melanie knew lots of things that drove Hank wild, that made him almost lose his cool. He never quite lost it, but Melanie could get him close to the brink. Hank secretly liked that, and Melanie secretly knew he did, but they never acknowledged it out loud.

Melanie grinned when she saw Hank’s hungry expression at the sight of her. She took a sip of her champagne, clearly pleased with herself, and Hank allowed himself to openly stare at her mouth. Her top lip was shaped like a perfect Cupid’s bow and her bottom lip was full and soft, with an almost imperceptible freckle right in the center. She was always wearing shiny gloss and licking or biting her lower lip. But the best part of her mouth was how she opened it to take Hank’s cock… fuck. Her lips stretched open farther than Hank thought was possible as she relaxed her jaw, letting him all the way down her throat… Hank shook his head, not wanting to get ahead of himself.

Hi baby, Hank said approvingly, smirking at Melanie through the camera. You’re so dressed up for our date.

And you’re not dressed at all, Hank! Melanie pretended to pout.

Work went late, Hank explained. Let me put the phone down so I can throw some clothes on.

Don’t put the phone down, Melanie begged, let me see you get dressed on camera!

Hank laughed. No way, he said. That’s what you do on our dates, not me! I just get to watch.

Melanie giggled. You love watching me Hank, she said.

I do, baby, Hank allowed, and Melanie beamed at the understated compliment. Hank more than loved his FaceTime dates with Melanie and they both knew it. Hank put the phone down and slipped into sweats and a basketball jersey while Melanie waited patiently on the other end of the line. She drank her champagne and eyed her sex toy collection, wondering what she’d use tonight, wondering how red Hank’s face would get while he watched, wondering how it would feel to finally be able to have sex in person with her boyfriend again, wondering how fucking digitally from afar managed to feel so good in the meanwhile.

Hank and Melanie had met right before the pandemic. Melanie flew to New York for a friend’s New Year’s Eve wedding and met Hank at the reception. They hit it off, first on the dance floor, then over dinner, then at the after party, then in a cab on the way back to Melanie’s hotel room… she had never met someone who could keep up with her quite so well, both when it came to sex and when it came to everything else. She had ended up extending her trip just to spend more time on all fours and on her knees for Hank; she was high on the way he fucked her, she never wanted it to end.

Neither one of them had been sure what would happen next. Sometimes a weekend of hot sex is just a weekend of hot sex. But the morning Melanie left New York to fly home to Portland, she’d told Hank to call her if he felt like it. Somewhat to her surprise, he did. He called that night to make sure she’d made it home okay. He called a few days later just to talk. He kept calling. Soon enough, they admitted they were dating.

Melanie flew back to New York in late February to see Hank. Things in the city felt different; some people seemed poised for catastrophe while others were oblivious. It seems impossible to believe now, almost one year later, that they didn’t pay attention to the undercurrent of what was coming. But they were falling in love; they’d never lived through a pandemic before. It was easier to focus only on what was happening inside Hank’s tiny studio apartment: Melanie bent over his couch, legs spread, gagged and holding as still as she could as Hank took his time tugging back her ponytail, resting his hand at her neck, learning all the ways she reacted to the promise of his touch. Melanie tied down to his bed, her wrists and ankles snug in his under-the-bed restraints, whimpering from embarrassment as Hank made her come again and again, holding a Hitachi against her clit as her hips bucked and she squirted, first a little and then a lot, cheeks reddening as Hank smirked and muttered about her making a mess. Hank at the stove in the morning wearing his grey terry cloth robe, taking a pause from making them breakfast to take her chin in his palm and kiss her good morning. Hank on the couch, patting his lap and inviting her to curl up with her arms around his neck and her cheek resting against his chest, stroking her hair and tucking it behind her ear while the two talked and talked. Hank teased Melanie that it was a good thing she lived on the opposite coast – I’d never eat or sleep if we lived in the same city! I’ve never met someone who never gets tired out like you! – but by the end of that visit, they were both starting the queer long distance fantasy game: what if, what if, what if, what if.

When Hank called Melanie to make sure she had gotten home okay, she asked him if he wanted to be her boyfriend as soon as he picked up the phone. She could feel his smirk through the phone, guarded but pleased in spite of himself. I feel like I already am, he said. But yeah, let’s make it official. They started talking about Hank taking time off work to visit Melanie in Portland in March, but then the pandemic hit the city with full force, and suddenly no one was leaving their apartments, let alone flying across the country. Not knowing when they would be able to see each other next, Melanie had floated the idea of FaceTime sex.

It turned out that was a very, very good idea.

Melanie was skilled at putting on a show. I’m very obedient, she told Hank the first night they spent together. They’d negotiated boundaries and hard limits, and the more they fucked the more they found that they were very well-matched. Even with distance, it seemed as though they were always finding new things to try, new ways to turn each other on. Hank never let himself come on camera – too vulnerable! – but he promised her that watching her got him off. She believed him; everyone experiences sex differently.

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Tonight, Melanie’s phone was propped against her largest houseplant – a monstera that desperately needed to be watered – and she perched across from it on her couch, making sure to position her sex blanket under her ass. She intended to make a big mess for Hank, and she wanted to be prepared. She knew Hank had noticed the deep purple absorbent blanket under her right away, but he hadn’t said anything. She loved his patience; he was so good at making them both wait.

She started slowly, just how he liked it: she sucked on her fingers, first her pointer and then her middle, let her long nails graze her bottom lip as she traced her mouth, then put both fingers as deep down her throat as she could before gagging. She moved her fingers in and out of her mouth slowly, leaning in to the camera so the frame was almost entirely taken up with her lips.

I love your mouth, Hank said, and she bit her lip before reaching for her favorite cock, a thick sparkling pink toy about six inches long. She lingered in that position slightly longer than necessary, knowing Hank would be enjoying the image of her tits across the screen, feeling her nipples getting hard already. She missed the way he touched her, brushing his palms back and forth against her nipples to rile her up – I’m barely touching you, he’d taunt as she squirmed under him – before he rewarded her with his strong hands pinching and pulling at her tits. She tried to replicate the way his hands felt on her body, but she was so much more impatient than he was… it was hard to remind herself how good it felt to savor the build up. Fucking herself for him on FaceTime forced her to slow down.

Take off your dress before you suck my cock, Hank commanded, and Melanie felt herself getting wet as she obeyed. She loved the way they could make eye contact when they fucked like this. She stared at the camera as she slowly took off her dress; she liked the way Hank looked at her through the screen, his mouth parted, his eyes wide. She could hear his breathing, and she loved the way he gasped when she did anything that made him particularly proud. FaceTime sex was full of its own cues and rhythms. It was hot.

Do you want me to take off my bra too, sir? And my panties?

Keep your panties on for now. But I think those tits need some attention…

Melanie’s face lit up with excitement. May I tie up my tits, please?

Hank suppressed a smile of his own; he knew she would ask that but he didn’t want to let her have everything tonight. Making her wait, making her beg… that was all part of the fun. I don’t think you need to tie up your tits… but maybe you should put your nipple clamps on.

Melanie nodded solemnly. If I do a good job may I tie up my tits next time?

We’ll see. Put on your clamps, baby.

He liked watching how hungry her eyes got when he said no to her, how she seemed insatiable. He hadn’t been kidding when he teased her in his apartment last year – he wasn’t sure if he ever would find time to sleep or eat if they lived in the same city. But he hadn’t anticipated not seeing her for months and months, hadn’t anticipated not knowing when he would next be able to hold her – to fuck her, yes, but also just cuddle her and kiss her and make her breakfast… he missed her.

While he’d been lost in his thoughts Melanie had been following instructions. Now she sat cross legged on her couch, breathing through the painful sting of her silver clover clamps biting at her nipples. He could see her pussy through her pale pink panties; a damp spot was forming and the visibility through the iPhone camera was impressive.

You can go ahead and suck my cock now, baby.

She opened her mouth – god damn it, her perfect fucking mouth – and moved the cock deep down her throat, swallowing it all at once, anxious to show him what a good job she could do.

Lean forward so those clamps pull on your nipples.

She moaned around the cock and seemed to take it even deeper as she leaned forward, letting out a small yelp as the heft of her tits swinging forward encouraged the clamps to tug tighter. She held the cock at its base and continued to move it in and out of her mouth, hugging her lips tightly around the shaft so it made a popping sound every time she pulled it out. She closed her eyes as she kept sucking on Hank’s cock, letting drool collect and drip down her chin, getting messy on purpose, making the whole endeavor as visual and exaggerated as possible.

Fuck, baby, Hank said, his face filling the phone screen as he watched her, and Melanie glowed. She loved when Hank took that tone, almost a growl, like he was mad how hard she made him, how hard she made it for him to remain in control.

Melanie opened her eyes and was surprised to see Hank licking his lips, his face more flushed than she was used to. She was suddenly shy, witnessing her own face: lipstick smudged, lips swollen and wet.

I need you to fuck yourself, baby, Hank told her. Push your panties to the side and let me fuck you with my cock. You made me so big and hard, I need it. I need to see you come around that cock…

She did as she was told, shifting so her legs were spread wide open and Hank had a clear view of her pussy on his screen. He loved to see how excited she could get just from sucking his cock, how the act of performing really did turn her on. No other girl had ever put on a show for him like this.

Melanie took the glittering pink cock, still covered in her spit, and positioned it between her pussy lips, guiding it up and down, moving her hips to meet the tip, letting it hit her clit and sighing to herself in anticipation.

Does that feel good baby? Hank asked tenderly, even as he felt himself straining against his briefs. He wanted to touch himself so badly. He’d never done that before on FaceTime; Melanie could tease him and herself for hours, coming over and over again in the course of one night, but he always waited until after they hung up to make himself come. But tonight felt different.

The cock was buried inside Melanie now and she was fucking herself hard, rocking against it and losing herself in the moment. He knew as she got closer to orgasm she’d start babbling, keeping up a stream of dirty talk mixed with moans and pleading. Hank I’m so close, please, I want to come so badly, may I use my vibrator on my clit, may I tug on my nipple clamps, Hank please, fuck me deeper, I need your cock inside me, please, please, please…

He didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Melanie kept begging, but with his mouth open and his breath caught in his throat, he shifted and pushed his hand into his own briefs, stroking himself in rhythm with her words. His cock moved in and out of her in her apartment in Portland, and his hand moved up and down on his cock in his apartment in New York, and he stared in awe at his girlfriend as she came hard, like always, her cunt clenching tight around his cock and then, as she pulled it out but kept the vibrator on her clit, she started squirting in a strong continuous stream, liquid pooling underneath her ass and making a mess, exactly the way he liked it.

When she opened her eyes, expecting to see Hank composed and pleased, she instead found him close, so close to his own orgasm. His eyes were wide open and his face was flushed, his mouth parted and relaxed — it was all so different from the tight control he usually kept over his facial expressions and over his emotions. She knew she always turned him on when they fucked like this, knew he was always building up to an orgasm that would take place once they hung up and he was not longer on camera — he told her often, he was so effusive in his praise, he knew exactly what she needed to hear to feel sexy and special — but it was a rush to witness it, to know that Hank was allowing her to see him this way… she was deeply moved. And also… she was really turned on. Hank was hot, and he was her boyfriend, and she was watching as he made himself come all over her body from miles and miles away. I’m the luckiest girl in the world, she thought, getting lost in Hank’s red cheeks and the way his chest heaved under his jersey.

Not wanting to disrupt the moment – though her excitement that he was finally comfortable enough to come on camera with her was enormous – she egged him on, going back to begging, Hank come for me, come all over my tits, please, please, my tits are so sore, come all over them Hank… and then he came, hard, and she heard him through her screen for the first time like this, and watched him come back to himself, and they looked at each other in shared disbelief and joy. She waited until Hank smirked and said, Okay don’t get used to that, and then she took his cue and said, I would never, sir. He offered to tuck her hair behind her ear, like he always did to take care of her when they were done fucking on FaceTime, and she grinned and said, just because you’re done doesn’t mean I am, and then he grinned for real, comfortable again, in charge again, and he took a deep breath and said okay, what other props do you have for me tonight baby, and she grabbed her bright pink rope and said, I think I deserve to tie my tits up now, don’t you think, sir?