“A t-shirt with shorts. And a fuzzy pink bathrobe.” I tell Jae quietly, like someone might hear me.
“Ah, my favorite bathrobe,” I can hear the smile in Jae’s voice.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s tied at my waist.”
“If I were there,” Jae exhales softly. “I’d place my hand at the small of your back, and untie your robe.”
“What else would you do?” I ask, inhaling sharply at the thought of Jae undressing me. Heat rises in my lower belly.
“Are you imagining me there? I’d lean in very close, and press a kiss to your neck.” Jae whispers back.
“Yes,” I say breathily. “Would you let me touch you?”
“Oh, Riley, I’d love it if you would touch me,” Jae groans. My heart pounds at the thought of touching Jae like he is now. Wrapped in sheets, with only a thin layer of fabric covering him.
“Would you kiss my lips?” I ask.
“I’d kiss you gently at first,” Jae whispers to me. I’ve let the phone fall onto the sheets as I lay back with my head on my pillow. I reminisce about his tongue on mine. Fuck. “And then harder.”
“I’m imagining us standing in my bedroom,” I try to paint a picture for him. “My bathrobe is undone, and your hands are in my hair, and my hands are on your chest?—”
“Shit, Riley, you’re really turning me on,” Jae whispers, stunning me into silence. “I’d take off your bathrobe, and lay you down on your bed.” My stomach flips with something I haven’t felt in a long time.
“I’d pull you on top of me,” I tell him in a long breath, imagining the weight of him on top of me.
“I’d put my knee between your legs,” Jae sighs. “Fuck, Riley,”
“I would kiss you harder—” I keep going, desperate to keep feeling the new, throbbing energy between my legs.
“Fuck, Riley, please, how are you laying right now?” Jae asks me, snapping me out of the scenario and into real life.
“I’m—I’m under the covers,” I tell him. “I have my phone by my head. You’re on speaker. And my hands?—”
“Riley,” He groans. I don’t care about anything else right now, and I instinctively bring my hands to my chest. “Could you put your hands where you would want me to touch you?”
Am I really going to do this? I didn’t masturbate often, let alone on the phone with another person on the other line, but yes, I am going to.
“Yes,” I sigh heavily. “I’m doing it now.” I slide my right hand down my shorts, hovering over the most sensitive parts of me. And fuck, sensitive, I am. I gasp when I slide my finger over my wet seam, brushing my clitoris with my forefinger.
There’s rustling of sheets over the speaker. I guess the gasp was louder than I thought. “Fuck, Riley, please tell me you’re touching yourself for me,” Jae groans. His
heavy breathing turns into something more. “I’m touching myself for you.”
“Jae,” I rasp, as I begin to really tease my clit with slow circles. “How are you touching yourself?”
“I’m—” His groans turn into moans. “I’m squeezing my cock so hard for you, Riley,”
“Oh, fuck, Jae,” I squeeze my eyes shut at the thought of him fisting himself for me. It sends me into a tailspin, and I can’t help myself any longer. I rub my clitoris with more pressure.
“Riley, tell me how you’re touching yourself. Please, I need to know.” Jae moans into the phone.
“I’m using—” I take a sharp inhale. “I’m using my right hand to rub my clitoris.”
“Shit,” Jae murmurs, and I roll my eyes back into my head. Keeping a steady rhythm how I like, I hear Jae groan again, and I whimper. His groans awaken something in me that I don’t wish to keep buried any longer. This phone sex is the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
“Jae,” I cry out. “I—I haven’t touched myself for a while. I’m not going to last much longer.” I confess.
“Baby, come when you’re ready. Don’t hold back on my account.” Jae whispers.
