transmission

nc-17 | sexual content

He almost asked her if he had woken her, before remembering she was three hours behind where he was. Diana was already in her nightgown, though, and had been lying on her side in their bed when she answered the phone. With her robe off and gravity pulling her left breast down on top of her right, it gave him lovely gratuitous cleavage shot that he was enjoying immensely.

It was their first night apart since escaping Dcom and he hated the idea of leaving her alone. Their home was in a gated community, it had an alarm, and Diana had gotten a shiny new stun gun for self-defense, but he was having lost her before, so many times, he didn't know if his heart could handle it if it happened again.

She listened patiently as he ranted about how hard it had been to find Alice's contact, and as he begrudgingly admitted the guy seemed to have some good information. She kept shifting around on the bed, causing her gown to slip just enough to hint at her areola, and it got harder to ... well, it just got harder.

Then he noticed that her breasts seemed more squished together than they should be, mainly because her arm was pressing down on them, making -

"Are you touching yourself?" he blurted out.

Diana didn't have to confirm it; she turned beet red and brought the hand that wasn't holding the phone up to her chest. Sigma made no secret of the fact that he jerked off furiously when the need arose and she wasn't around or interested, but she seemed to only do it in their bathroom, with the door locked and music playing in a (mostly futile) attempt to keep him from hearing the buzzing, her low moans, or the way she said his name. Maybe it was a remnant of her Catholic upbringing, although she had been lapsed in her faith since she was twelve. He had asked her if he could watch once, on the Moon, and she had gotten so flustered he was afraid to bring it up again.

"I miss you," she admitted quietly. "And you're not wearing a shirt, which I assume you did on purpose to tease me."

He hadn't, actually. Their contact spilled beer on him, so he had stripped down to his boxers as soon as he got back to the hotel room and just hadn't bothered to put anything on before calling her.

"You could, you know, if you wanted to. You could leave the camera just like this. I wouldn't see anything."

He desperately wanted her to angle the camera down, so he could watch her fingers sliding in between her labia, pushing inside her, and he hoped it didn't show in his voice.

She lay back, taking the camera with her, resting her hands on her stomach, so that the mounds of her breasts framed her face in his view.

"You're sure this ... nobody can hack this line?"

"It's secure," he rushed to reassure her.

He expected her to just reach down, out of his line of sight. He thought he'd just watch her face contort as she got herself off. He was surprised when the screen went black as she put the phone face down on the mattress for a moment. When she picked it back up, she was sitting propped up against the pillows, her nightgown gone.

"C-Can you get naked, too?"

His boxers were off in record time. "Do you want to see me?"

She blushed as she nodded. He moved his phone over his body, lingering for a moment on his cock. The downside was that he could only hear her small groan; he couldn't see her face. When he was done giving her a show, he moved the nightstand next to his bed and propped his phone up on its side, in a manner that hopefully let her see everything.

After a moment, she followed suit, using the little kickstand on the case to stand it up. He could see that the only thing she had on was her panties - a frilly, lacy, skimpy little thing he had bought for her that she never wore outside the bedroom because she said it was impractical. Although he couldn't see if from the angle, he knew her coral-colored pubic hair was visible through the sheer cloth.

"What do you want me to d-d-do?"

His gaze snapped back to her face, looking for signs of discomfort. She stuttered when she was nervous and when she was aroused, which sometimes caused him to fret over nothing. Her nipples were tight, but she was worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

"Are you okay with this?"

Diana moaned as she tilted her head back and squeezed her legs together. "Yes, please."

Arousal, then. He palmed his erection, tried to get it to settle down a bit.

"What do you usually do?"

She frowned a bit at that, her eyebrows knit together. "Nothing ... that interesting."

"I ... Diana, what do you think I want? I just want to see you make yourself come. I ... I don't care if you do that by fucking yourself with your fingers or ... painting your toenails. I just want to watch."

Now she arched an eyebrow at him. "Painting my toenails?"

"It was the most ... unsexual thing I could think of at the time. Cut me a break, here." He gestured to his crotch. "I'm clearly suffering deficient blood flow to my brain."

She bit her lip, held up a hand in a 'wait there' gesture, and hopped off the bed. He silently hoped she was not running off to get nail polish just to fuck with him. But he took the opportunity to grab lubricant out of his bag, so he wouldn't have to resort to spitting in his palm. She returned with a white pouch but hesitated for a moment before taking anything out of it. When she did, he could see why.

The dildo she took out was a ridiculous shade of pink.

As if she knew what he was thinking - "It doesn't come in any other c-c-colors."

"It's fine," he rasped. It was rather realistic, aside from that. She must have ordered it online, as there was no way she would be comfortable shopping for it in a store.

Diana took some pillows from the head of the bed and put them near the foot, at an angle, so she could lay down with her torso partially elevated, giving him a view of everything. Abso-fucking-lutely everything. She didn't take off her panties; she only pulled them aside, giving him a brief glimpse before it was obscured by her hand and the fake dick.

Before he could ask, she spread her legs wider, pushing it in slowly. And again, as if she could read his mind -

"It's not as b-b-big as you are."

Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck fuck. Sigma spilled a bit too much lube on his hand and then tried to match her rhythm, even if it was slower than he would have liked. She eased it in and out, her other hand still gripping her underwear to keep it out of the way, and with her arms like that, her breasts were pressed together, on display. They were both panting heavily when she stopped, with it buried deep inside her. Gritting his teeth, he halted as well.

She finally slid down her panties, leaving them around her ankles, and reached into the pouch again. The vibrator she pulled out was a somewhat subdued blue color. She clicked it on and pressed it against her clit with no warning, holding the dildo inside her with her other hand. Her legs started to tremble and he marveled at being able to see her like this - see her orgasm building from this vantage point. He could watch everything, without having his face buried in her neck, or between her legs.

"Sigma? I'm - I'm -"

"Please, fuck, yes, let me see you."

Her face fell from view as she arched her back, as her legs kicked out straight, as she called out his name. The dildo was pushed out of her as she lost her grasp, and as the waves seemed to subside, she released the vibrator as well, not even bothering to turn it off.

He didn't realize he had come as well until she lifted her head, said, "Oh ... sorry I ... I missed it." He glanced down at the mess on his stomach.

"So did I, if ... if that's any consolation."

She laughed as she blindly groped for the vibrator, so she could press the button and silence the buzzing. Whether because of a chill or sudden realization of how exposed she was, she tugged the sheet over her naked body as she sat up. She reached for the phone, and he could tell she was shaking by the slight wobble of the video.

"I miss you," she said again. He picked up his own phone, as if that could somehow bring them closer.

"Thirteen hours. Then I'll be home."

As if she was aware of his sudden desire to have her repeat this, only with him in the room, fondling her, kissing her, whispering in her ear -

"I'll make sure I clean these before then."

(fin.)