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Shannon:
I’m so hot for you, it’s crazy.
Jonathan:
Enough so that you’ll plunge two fingers deep inside your sweet pussy?
Oh my God, I didn’t think I’d been this hot while masturbating ever before in my life. Could I do this?
My phone buzzed, and Jonathan’s name came up on the screen.
I answered, but I couldn’t speak.
“I can hear you breathing, so I know you’re there. Tell me you’re there… Shannon… listening,” he whispered.
So, we were keeping up the charade even though we were physically talking to each other. I couldn’t see how this could get any hotter.
“I’m here… Jonathan,” I whispered, barely able to speak.
“Where are your fingers?”
I instantly plunged one, then two fingers deep inside my channel. “Where you wanted them, inside me.”
“Damn, but your wet and tight. I swear to God, I can feel how tight you are.”
His voice was low and deeper than I’d ever heard it. It wasn’t a whisper. It had an almost gravely texture to it. I could hear someone softly snoring in the background.
“Is that your uncle I hear?”
“Yes. He’s sound asleep. I’m hidden under the blanket, on the sofa, well behind him.”
“You’re taking a risk that he might wake up.”
“Impossible. He had too much of my mother’s spiked eggnog.”
“What we’re doing is so bad and so dirty.”
“I want to hear you come. Will you come for me?”
“Only if you do. Just knowing that you’re pumping your dick causes my fingers to work faster.”
I had absolutely no idea where that came from, but there it was, out in front for him to hear.
“I’ve got my hand wrapped tight around it, imagining that I’m deep inside you, drilling you… faster and faster.”
I placed the phone on the bed next to me and turned on my side to face it.
I was using both hands now, one for my clit and one pumping my channel, imagining him taking me from behind, pushing deeper and deeper inside me. I kept my eyes closed while we talked.
“I don’t think I can last much longer,” I told him, my voice ragged from the heat threatening to rip me apart.
“I’m right there with you. I can feel you. Can hear you. You’re incredible.”
“I want to hear you come. Want to imagine your face. Want to feel your heavy body on top of me, next to me, pushing into me.”
His breathing accelerated, and mine did the same, as if we were reaching for the same plateau, the same place in the sky that held all the stars and thunder.
I imagined him naked, on a bed, in my bed, even though he’d told me he was on a sofa in the basement. I didn’t want to imagine him there. Instead, I wanted to see him in this very bed, staring up at the empty ceiling, masturbating, and thinking about me in my tight red dress.
