This week, I’m combining the image from Masturbation Monday 127 with this week. I wanted to write for the image during week 127, but I wasn’t able to deny readers Exquisite Torture – Part Two. And hey, I’m a creative, a writer, so I can do this sort of thing.
Everyone’s dialed a wrong number and had an interesting outcome, but have you ever had phone sex with a stranger? I present to you:
Wrong Number – Part One
I switch sides of the bed, hoping the cool sheets against my skin will do more than just make me shiver. It’s strange, sleeping on what used to be your side of the bed. Your imprint isn’t there, though. It’s a new mattress. One that I haven’t broken in yet.
Nothing smells like you either. I bought all new things to go with the new place in the new city. I ran as far away as I could get and yet you still penetrate my mind like a virus attacks a host. I cannot stop wondering what you’re doing and it drives me mad.
Grabbing the phone, I dial your number, surprised when it rings.
The voice on the other end is deep and husky. At first, I panic, about to hang up, because it’s not your voice on the other end.
He sounds as though he also can’t sleep, so I indulge.
“I’m here.” My voice sounds mousey to me, quiet and unassuming. Meek. I try again. “I can’t sleep.”
He doesn’t even question who he’s talking to, which surprises me. Perhaps the number I now have is somehow programmed in this guy’s phone under the name of someone that no longer owns it?
“What do you think we should do about it?” The question sounds bold when moments ago I sounded so meek.
There’s a rustling sound and I pretend this man I’m talking with is turning over in his bed, settling his pillows and covers, then a deep sigh comes over the line. It wasn’t an unhappy sigh, but more as though thinking had been too much work. “I’m not sure. What are you wearing?”
I laugh. It just burbles up out of me, uncontrolled. “Talk about cliché. Okay. I’ll play. I’m wearing a tank top and hi-cut bikini cotton panties. What are you wearing?”
There’s a happy groan over the connection, “I’m wearing a pair of boxers. I don’t know why, though. I sleep alone and usually naked.”
“Same here. For some reason, I just felt the need to have something on tonight.” I couldn’t believe this stranger was indulging me. I felt as though I had made one of those random connections that gives you the “I am not alone” feeling.
“Maybe that’s why we can’t sleep. We should get naked.” On the other end of the line, I hear him throw back the covers and the phone gets bumped as he appears to take off his boxers. “Okay, now I’m naked. What about you?”
“Uh, okay. Sure.” I set the phone down and take my clothes off, tossing them to the floor. This isn’t weird at all… who am I kidding? This is fucking weird. But fun.
“I’m naked.” There’s a change in my voice and I wonder if he can hear it. No longer meek, it’s turned sultry, seductive almost.
“Yum, I’m caressing my chest and pretending it’s you. Will you touch yours for me?” His voice has desirous tones to it as well and my breath falters for a few seconds.
“Yes, I’m squeezing my right breast, letting it slide through my grip, then squeezing the nipple before starting over again.” I bite my lip, my eyes close. I have no idea who this guy is, but what the hell. I don’t have to worry about protection or anything over the phone.
“That sounds perfect, but I think you should pinch your nipples harder. I want to hear you moan.” He moans over the phone and I join him, pinching my nipples hard.
“Oh, wow. That little bit extra. Painful but… something more.” I hear him groan in such a lusty way. I pinch my nipples more, holding them longer until I’m squirming against my sheets.
“That’s so good. You’re a good little girl, aren’t you?” His breathing is heavy and rapid, which sounds a lot like mine now.