It's sort of an awkward angle at first with my legs still pressed together and him so much taller than me so I do some shifting, moving up to straddle him by the waist so I can hover over him better, my one hand planted against the mattress by his head as I wrap the other around me again and indulge in a single slow stroke.

"Well, I mean," I tell him, hoping I don't look as silly as I feel. "You've-- you've seen all this before."

And it's true. He's seen me naked countless times. And he's touched me.

I keep moving my hand though, stroking slowly from base to tip in just the way I like it best, my breath picking up and falling into a moan as I brush my thumb along the head. "Just maybe-- maybe you haven't seen this? How I touch myself when I'm thinkin' of you."