Page 38 of Saving Meadow

I nearly swallowed my tongue at his question.

“No.”

“Good. Now I want you to lie back and relax. Remember what I said to you tonight before dinner?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Remember I told you I’d be sitting across from you with my dick hard, thinking about what was under your dress? And before we left, I got my first taste of your beautiful tits?”

Holy sweet baby Jesus… was he… were we…

“Yeah.”

“You have no idea how hard it was to walk out the door and not waste showing you off in that pretty dress. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to march us down the hall and taste you all over. When you told me you were thinking about touching my dick and sucking me off, I nearly came in my pants. The thought of my cock in your mouth is so fucking sexy; I’m afraid to touch my dick right now. And at the bar when you said having a glass of wine would make you think about us crawling into bed together? Well, you felt how hard you made my dick.”

He stopped talking, and I heard the rustle of clothes on his end. I was tingling all over, a little scared, excited, and a whole lot turned on. I’d never done this. I’d never had the courage to talk dirty before. Was I supposed to say something to him? Was I supposed to touch myself too? There was no way I would be able to stop myself if he kept talking.

“Meadow, baby, I want you to push just your shorts down your legs.”

“Okay.” I did as he asked. “Are you…um… naked?” I managed to squeak out.

“Yes.”

Holy fuck. Nick was naked! And on the phone with me. Naked. The thought caused another wave of heat to rush through my body. I untangled my shorts from my ankles and kicked them off the bed. The chill of the room did nothing to cool my fevered skin.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh,” I answered.

“Why not, Red. What’s wrong?”

“Because I’m so turned on I ache, and you’re at your house, and I’m here at mine.”

“Ah. We’ll take care of the ache, Red.”

“But I want you here,” I whined.

“If I was there what would you want me to do?”

“Touch me,” I whispered.

“Touch you? Where baby? Where do you want my hands first?”

“Between my legs?”

“Uh-uh. I’ll start a little higher. I can’t wait to feel your skin pebble with goose bumps as I trail my hands around your breasts, feeling their weight as I squeeze and massage them. Jesus, you have great tits, baby. I cannot wait to touch them. I’m going to trace around your nipples with my tongue until they’re tight buds standing at attention, begging for me to suck them. Only when I get my fill, and I have you panting with need, will I move lower to your belly, tasting your skin, kissing and nibbling my way farther down. Tell me, Meadow, are you touching yourself?”

Sometime between when he’d started talking and when he’d asked, my hand found its way between my legs. I ran my hand over the outside of my panties, unbelieving at the wetness I could feel.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Outside of my panties,” I told him, completely unashamed.