listen...

Listen to my voice.
Can you hear me?
I know I'm not that loud, not that brash - I know my accent is soft and lilting. I know that my laugh is a high, girlish laugh and that my sighs are nearly nothing - but right now, in the soft candlelight, in the heat by the fire - right now, I need you.
Can you hear it?
Listen, really closely. Listen to the sound of my fingers on my skin, the sound of my touch. This - this is my hands on my breasts. Soft at first, then hard - squeezing my nipples, pulling them out to you.
Did you hear that? That was the sound of my heat rising.
A moan escapes me. I can't help it. It's always been about my nipples for us, hasn't it? You love how I love them; I love how you love them.
I saw another man looking at them, today. My nipples were hard, pointing behind that cream shirt you bought me. I was wearing the lace bra. I knew he could see the dark circles behind the white lace. I knew he could see the way my nipples caught at the lace, my full breasts straining behind the thin cream silk.
I caught him staring, and he looked away.
I smiled. You would have liked that, wouldn't you? You would have liked knowing that he wanted me, but that you had me.
Do you hear the sound of my fingers, now searching deep inside of me? The sound of my juices?
Your name is on my tongue, your taste on my skin -
Listen, hear me come.

close your eyes...

“I want you to close your eyes,” he said.

She turned, her eyes tightly closed.

“I want you to listen to my voice, and just my voice," he said. "There is no room for anything else here – no room for anything. Just you, and me, and right now.”

Her lips parted, a slow, knowing smile. There was nothing else in the world that she wanted, than to hear him.

“Take off your nightdress,” he said. “let it fall on the floor.”

The silk kissed her skin as it flowed from her hands.

“I love your body,” he whispered. “God, I love your body – I love your hips, your stomach, your waist – I love the little curve where your waist meets your hips – I love your ass…”

Her smiled faltered.

“Run your hands over your waist, and round, to your ass,” he said. “No, don’t open your eyes. Just let your fingers feel their way around, let your body feel me watching you.”

She began to do what he said.

“Slowly,” he told her. “Feel those curves – touch yourself, trace your fingers over your hips, and down, to the nub – trace them up, over your breasts. Feel how hard your nipples are. Feel how they ache for me – feel with your fingers, how it would be with my lips, with my teeth. Pinch them –”

With a sharp intake of breath she felt the burn of excitement rush from her nipples to her clit, setting fire to her cunt.

“Pull them for me – gently,” he said. “Pull them toward me. Let me see them, standing proud.”

Her heat throbbed as she teased her nipples forward, increasing the pressure –

“Now let your fingers go to where you want them,” he said. His voice was low, the need clear, and she knew he’d be rock hard.

“Show me,” he said. “Let me see.”

She moved her hands down, slipping one finger between her folds. She was so wet, so hot – was that how she felt for him? Was this what it was like for him when he touched her? She started to circle her clit with her finger.

“use both hands,” he told her. “Open for me. Show me.”

With a shiver of excitement, she held open her lips and pushed her pelvis forward. Her legs were shaking, her whole body awake with the fire of his voice – she reached deeper, the honey spreading over her fingers as she slid her finger around and around her clit, then inside, deep, deep inside –

The orgasm ripped through her with no warning. Her legs shook, she cried out, and as the waves took her deeper and deeper, she fell to her knees. 

Her head rested back, her hair falling from her face. Somewhere, far away, she heard herself sigh.

On the other end of the phone, he chuckled.

“Stay there,” he said.