“That’s good,” I tell her. “Close your eyes, and imagine it’s my hand.”
Maya lets out a moan so seductive I almost lose it right there.
“You like that,” I say unnecessarily.
“Yeah,” she says. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve got my hand around, stroking.” I wouldn’t have thought, having taken it this far, that I could have anything else to be nervous about, but my whole body tightens a bit as I add, “Imagining I’m inside you.”
The gasp she gives after that is so sensual that I let myself echo it back.
She likes this. She wants it. She wants me. I can’t remember ever feeling so good.
“I wish I was there with you,” I say. I realize I’m carrying the narrative, but as long as she keeps sounding like she likes it, I don’t mind.
“I wish you were here, too. Inside me.”
“On top of you,” I add. “Us moving together.”
“My legs wrapped around you.” Her voice is deep and throaty, like she’s as lost in this as I am.
“Me kissing your mouth, your ear, your neck,” I say. And then, because I can’t help it, I add, “Telling you that I love you. God, I love you so much.”
Her cry when I say that is both sharp and desperate, and I think she’s getting close.
“Not yet,” I tell her. “Wait for me.” And I start working my hand in earnest.
“Kevin,” she says, and I echo her name back. For a while, we’re reduced to murmurs and groans as we’re both working higher and higher. And then:
“Are you close?” I ask.
“Mmm,” she says. “Yeah, I’m right there.”
“Me too.Tell me when you come.”
Her next groan comes from deep down in her throat, maybe all the way down to her other parts. She doesn’t have to tell me—I can hear her pleasure and it reverberates through me, and I follow her there, uttering a deep groan of my own as my pleasure crests, soaring higher than I ever remember, coming so hard, soaking my own hand.
“I’m coming,” she says unnecessarily.
“Me too,” I gasp, as I finish still holding the phone to my ear.The last echoes of pleasure radiate all through my body, and I can hear her panting as she comes down, too.
“I wish I was there,” I tell her again. “Holding you.”
“I feel like you are,” she says.
And even though we’re so many miles apart, I feel like that, too.
For a while, we’re silent. I wipe my hand off on my jeans, which clearly now need to be changed, and stretch out on my couch, closing my eyes.
Oh. My. God. What did we just do?
I had the most powerful orgasm of my life, that’s what I did. With the girl I’m desperately in love with. Is this a thing we’re doing now? Does that make us friends with benefits?
I told her I love her. Does she know that I mean it? She seemed to like it when we were there, but how will she feel about it now, after?
The silence stretches on. I can hear her breath returning to normal, and with the exceptions of a few wordless murmurs, I don’t know what to say, and I don’t think she does either.
Finally, she sighs. “I think I need a shower now.”
