She'd peppered you with kisses on the morning she'd left in the early hours, before the sun had even begun to peek out and you were still groggy with sleep. You'd mumbled a "love you" without opening your eyes, your face buried in your pillow. The last thing you remembered was the tickle of her curls against your cheek, and the lingering scent of her perfume before she swept out the door.

But now, two days later as you lay awake in the dark in your empty bed, you missed her desperately. Her voice just as much as her touch, which was what had led to this—one hand holding your phone to your ear and the other between your legs.

"What is it, baby? Everything okay?" came Bette's voice on the line after a few rings. It was low and fatigued, and you imagined she was reclined in her bed or armchair in her hotel room, weary after a long day. 

"Just wanted to hear your voice," you told her, voice breathy. You were touching yourself over your underwear in slow, lazy circles. You couldn't help it; even the sound of her now was enough to make you wet. Low and silky and rich, like a caress. "Isn't that allowed?"

"It's almost two in the morning," Bette pointed out, nonplussed. "What are you doing up?" There was the sound of shifting and the clink of a glass on the other end. In the armchair, then, having a stiff drink before bed.

You indulged yourself in picturing her there, legs crossed, suit jacket slung over the back of the chair, shirtsleeves rolled up as she swirled a glass in her hand. How you wished you could have been there to keep her company; straddling her lap, leaning in to brush your lips against her neck. She would anchor firm hands on your thighs in the way that she did, sliding them up slowly higher, higher...

"I couldn't sleep," you sighed, voice hazy with pleasure, "and...mph... and I miss you, baby."

Bette must have heard it in the slightly uneven cadence of your breath, or maybe the slowness of your words. She paused. "...yeah?" Her tone had gone softer, sensual. You heard her shift, maybe leaning back in her seat. "Poor girl. What are you doing over there, all by yourself?"

She knew exactly what you were doing, what kind of thoughts were racing through your mind. You hummed in answer, biting your lip as you grinned sleepily. "You tell me what you think I'm doing."

"I think... you're wearing that pretty white nightie that I bought you. The one I like so much on you." Her voice was slow, sweet, drenched in honey. It stirred the heat in your core stronger with every word. "And I think you're picturing me there right now, doing some very naughty things to you."

You were, in fact, wearing the white nightie, and you were imagining many such naughty things. "What kind of things?" You sounded slightly hoarse, distracted, as your fingers continued their movement over your throbbing clit.

"Taking that nightie off you, kissing you everywhere... down your neck, your breasts... your stomach, your thighs... my mouth on that pretty pussy... is that what you're picturing?"

A quiet moan slipped out of you, your eyes shut as you focused on the pleasure her words were bringing you. Your hand had slipped beneath your panties now, finding the wet heat of your core. You were oh so sensitive, and your breaths were coming on heavier now.

"Are you touching yourself now, baby?" she cooed, nearly a whisper. You'd picked up, ever so slightly, that her own breathing had grown heavier.

"Yes," your breath hitched on the word. "So wet for you, mommy."

She hummed in approval. "Mhm. Keep going for me."

You did as she asked, not that you needed to be told. Your hips gave little twitches into your hand as your movements sped up, grinding harder into your soaked cunt. You imagined her face there between your thighs instead—eating you out slowly and reverently, like she had all the time in the world. She would always look up at you, her big dark eyes lidded, watching you as you came undone.

"That's it, baby. You're such a good girl for mommy," Bette praised, and you lapped it up, practically melted beneath it. "You know I want to hear your pretty voice. Sound so good, angel."

"Fuck," you whimpered between your stuttering breaths, brows pinched in pleasure, lips parted. The heat in your core was intensifying to a cresting wave, and Bette's voice was carrying it higher, the one thing to which you clung. "Mm-mm, fuck, I—"

"Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you come for me." The command was gentle but firm.

"Yes, yes, mommy, I'm gonna—"

Your peak crashed over you, your head listing back and thighs tensing as you rode wave after wave. All the while, Bette's murmurings continued in your ear.

"Good girl. That's my good girl," she purred, coaxing you down from your high with sweet words. When the last dregs of your pleasure ebbed, you were reduced to a puddle of tired limbs, sleepiness immediately pulling at you.

"Oh, fuck me," you panted to yourself when her kisses trailed down to your neck. Your eyes went half-lidded when you felt her hot tongue and the light scrape of her teeth against your skin.

A low chuckle. "I'm about to." Her hands were needy and firm as they cupped and groped at your breasts, thumbs toying with your stiff, aching nipples. You were so sensitive that every slight touch against them had you squirming and gasping, arching further into her in need of more.

Your head lolled to the side to allow her better access to your neck, engulfed in the pleasure of feeling her lips against your skin, before she suddenly pulled back, and in a swift, impatient movement, tugged you off the counter and spun you around to face the bathroom mirror.

You hardly needed to be told—you braced your hands against the counter, bending over it slightly as her body pressed flush against you from behind. Her hands were still roaming and hungry, skirting over your hips now, bunching up your skirt as they ran up your thighs teasingly.

A low, breathy moan escaped you as ground your hips back into her, the throb of your pussy nearly unbearable. You felt the warmth of her laboured breathing against your ear, felt the rock of her hips against your ass, pushing your pelvis harder against the edge of the counter.

"You gonna let me fuck you right here?" Shane purred, eyeing you from beneath her lashes through the mirror's reflection, her chest pressed against your back. Her touch skated higher up your thigh and cupped your aching mound, the thin fabric of your panties already soaked through. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes—please, fuck," you moaned desperately. You attempted to rock further into her touch, in search of more friction.

You didn't have to wait long; Shane's grin was wicked as she nudged the crotch of your panties aside and slid her fingers through your swollen, dripping folds. She hummed in your ear at the feel of your arousal, her lips returning to the column of your neck as she rubbed tight circles over your clit.

Shared panting and your increasingly louder moans echoed against the tiled walls of the small bathroom as Shane bent you over the sink, watching you come undone in the mirror as her hand worked between your thighs.

"Oh, look at you, baby." Her voice was a low rasp in your ear. Her eyes locked on yours in the mirror, pupils darkened with lust as she took in your fucked-out expression. Yours were half-lidded, glazed over with pleasure. "Fuck. You look so pretty like this."

You were unable to speak, unable to think of anything but the feel of her fingers working over you, pumping inside you. Moans continued to pour out of your open lips, your gaze hazily focused on the sight of your entangled bodies in the mirror in front of you.

"That's it, baby. Doing so good for me." Her praises were low and sweet, murmured between heavy breaths as she continued to grind more desperately against your ass, chasing her own pleasure. Her other hand reached up to squeeze a handful of your chest as she panted against your cheek. "Such a good girl."

Her words had your pleasure building higher and higher, your eyes fluttering closed as your thighs trembled against her hand. You were so wet, the sound of your pussy obscenely audible as she fucked you. Your peak was approaching quickly now, threatening to overtake you. "Mmph—F-Fuck—"

Shane let out a low groan, her movements speeding up. She was still watching you intently, drunk on the sounds slipping from your pretty lips and the way your face was contorted with your impending orgasm. "Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Wanna feel you come all over my fingers."

"Gonna—mph—gonna cum—"

"Give it to me, babe—"

Then you were coming with a cry that echoed throughout the small room, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you hard, making you see stars. Your hips stuttered against Shane's hand, which was still moving against you, drawing out your climax.

As you came down from your intense high and caught your breath, pulled your skirt back down your still-shaky thighs, you wondered if you'd ever see this woman again after tonight.