Is it okay i(f) I touch myself and cum while I read your comments?

The question hangs in the air like a dare, typed out with that small trembling parenthesis betraying exactly how worked up she already is. She's positioned herself somewhere comfortable, screen glowing against her skin, fingers hovering — waiting for permission she doesn't technically need.

You scroll down and realize your words have weight here. What you type next gets read while her breathing changes, while her hand moves slower then faster depending on your sentences.

She'll finish reading your comment right at the edge, timing it deliberately. The thought that your specific words pushed her over — that's the part she wants you sitting with.