Lexi's POV
I almost stopped walking. In fact, I did.
It had been him? The mysterious introvert at work? No way, I said to myself.
I stood as calm as I could, deciding which thought I should pick in my head. Maybe I should just go back through the door I had just shut.
Maybe I should text him back and just say something to him to confirm... Yes, if he'd been the one from last night.
I looked back at the door and ran as fast as I could. Getting to his office, he was gone. Too fast.
I didn't think about it anymore and just walked out.
I barely remembered the train ride home.
The city moved past me in a blur of lights and bodies. My phone stayed face-down in my bag the entire time, but I felt every second of silence from him like a hand around my throat. By the time I got home and unlocked my apartment door, my hands were unsteady and the black cotton underwear was already soaked.
Fortunately for me, my best friend was still out.
I dropped my bag by the door, kicked off my shoes, and sat on the edge of the bed exactly like he’d told me to.
I pulled down my skirt and opened the camera app to take a picture of my soaked panties. I took multiple shots from different angles that made it look sexy.
The thrill of him getting to see me wet sent a rush of fresh wetness through me.
Match_09: Take off your underwear and leave them on the floor where I can imagine them. Then sit back on the bed with your back against the headboard, knees bent, legs open. Camera on. Live.
My stomach dropped.
We had never done a video call before, not even once in our eleven weeks of conversation.
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed, then I did what he said. The wet fabric peeled away from my skin. I dropped it on the floor beside the bed, positioned myself against the headboard, and opened the app’s live function with my heart beating so hard I felt it in my teeth.
The call connected almost immediately.
The screen stayed blank from his end. I could only see myself in the small preview window — flushed face, bare legs spread, the glistening evidence between them already obvious.
His voice came through the speaker low and clear, no longer filtered through text.
“There you are.”
I flinched at the sound. It was the same calm, controlled tone I heard every day at the office when he answered a colleague’s question or spoke quietly into his phone. Hearing it now, while I sat naked from the waist down on my own bed, made the last of the anonymity collapse.
"So you've been the one since the beginning?" I whispered.
He chuckled. "It's been me. It's good we're getting to know each other well after playing hide and seek for weeks."
"When did you start noticing me?"
“I’ve known since the second week.” A soft rustle of movement on his end. “You used the same phrasing in a work Slack message that you’d used with me the night before. After that, it was easy. You sit two desks away, Lexi. You bite your lip when you’re concentrating. You cross your legs the same way every time you get a message from me during the day. You’re not subtle.”
Heat flooded my face. Shame and arousal twisted together so tightly I couldn’t separate them.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because watching you get wetter and more obedient for a stranger was better. Spread your legs wider. I want to see how ruined you already are.”
I obeyed, sealing up every question I wanted to ask.
I watched my own reflection on the screen as I opened myself further for a man whose face I still couldn’t see.
“Touch yourself,” he said. “Use two fingers. Slow. I want to hear how wet you are.”
I slid my hand down. The sound was filthy even to my own ears the second my fingers pushed inside. A small, helpless noise left me.
“Louder,” he ordered. “Let me hear it.”
I worked my fingers deeper, the wet noise of it loud and unmistakable now. My head fell back against the headboard. I was already close. Too easily. The combination of his real voice and the months of buildup made every stroke feel electric.
“Stop.”
I froze, fingers buried inside myself, chest heaving.
“Take them out. Hold them up to the camera.”
I did. The slick fingers shone under the bedroom light, making my face burn hotter.
“Taste it.”
I closed my lips around my own fingers and cleaned them while he watched the black screen in silence. When I finished, he spoke again, voice rougher.
“Good girl. Now get on your knees and face away from the camera. Arch out your ass for me. Chest down on the bed. I want to see everything.”
I scrambled to obey, heart beating. The position left me completely exposed—knees spread, back arched, face pressed into the sheets. Cool air hit the wet mess between my legs. I could feel how open I already was.
“Reach back,” he said. “One hand on your cunt. Two fingers. The other hand… press one finger against that tight little hole. Don’t push in yet. Just rest it there so I can watch.”
I did. My right hand slid between my thighs and sank two fingers back into the heat that was already dripping down them. My left hand shook as I reached farther, finding the tight ring of my ass and resting the tip of one finger against it.
“Fuck yourself with the fingers in your pussy. Slow. Deep. And while you do it, start pressing that other finger into your ass. Little by little. I want to see both holes take you.”
The finger at my ass pushed out from the friction first, then the tight muscle gave way and the tip slipped inside. The sharp, burning stretch pulled a broken sound from my throat. At the same time, I fucked the two fingers deeper into my cunt, the wet sound loud and filthy in the quiet room.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Look at you. Taking both at once like the greedy little slut you are. Your cunt’s so messy it’s shining. And that ass is swallowing your finger so prettily. Gorgeous scene to watch. Keep going. Deeper in both.”
I worked myself slowly, exactly as ordered. The finger in my ass sank deep, the burn turning into a heavy, full pressure that made every thrust into my pussy feel sharper. My hips tried to rock; I forced them to remain still. Sweat gathered around my lower back, mixing with the sweat on my wrists.
“Praise looks good on you when you’re this open,” he said, voice low and dark. “You’re doing so well for me. Fucking both holes like you were made for it. Listen to how wet you are. That sound is pure filth. Keep that pace. Don’t speed up.”
I kept going, the sensation building around my legs. I pushed the finger deeper into my ass, a sharp cry escaping my lips, moving in shallow counterpoint to the deeper strokes in my cunt. Every time I pushed into one hole, the other clenched around me. My clit throbbed, neglected and furious.
“You’re close,” he observed. “I can hear it in your breathing. Don’t you dare come yet. Just keep filling yourself. Let it build until it hurts.”
I obeyed, tears pricking my eyes from the strain of holding back. The pressure low in my belly grew heavy, almost unbearable. My fingers kept moving, the sounds turning louder, messier.
“Now,” he said at last. “Curl the fingers in your cunt. Grind them against that spot while you push the one in your ass a little harder. Don’t stop until I say.”
I did. The angle hit the exact spot that made me lose control. Pleasure built hard and sudden, coiling tight. My thighs locked. A broken cry tore out of me as I came. Liquid heat rushed out of me in a hard, uncontrollable gush, soaking my hand and the sheets beneath me. I kept moving through it because he had not told me to stop, my body jerking with the force of the single, intense squirt while both holes clenched rhythmically around my fingers.
Only when the last aftershock faded did his voice return, softer but still commanding.
“Stop. Leave your fingers where they are. I want to look at the mess you just made for me.”
I stayed exactly as I was—ass up, both hands still buried, sheets wet beneath me—shaking and open while the black screen on the other end stayed silent, watching.
“You’re going to stay exactly that way. No touching. No cleaning— even if anyone walks in. Is that clear?" he asked, voice deep and commanding.
"Yes—" I whimpered.
"I’m coming over."