Page 69
Story: The Penalty Player
“We are talking, but I don’t have anything else to say. It’s all been said. You didn’t love me, remember.”
His voice goes soft. “It was all a mistake.”
A wave of laughter takes over my body. “It was a mistake from the beginning. I have a client coming in, so I need to go.” I give him a few seconds, and he finally hangs up.
What would I have done if John and I hadn’t become a couple on vacation? Would I have taken Dennis back?
The day drags on like a five-hundred-lap Nascar race. Don’t get me wrong, I love racing, but in my opinion, none of it really matters until the last twenty laps.
Work seems boring and uninteresting– clients hiding their assets or making sure their kids or spouses can’t get to it. Catching up after being off for ten days has me longing for the beach and John.
Around nine in the evening, my phone buzzes on my glass desk. Yes, my office is trendy and modern. Which now that I think about it, isn’t me at all. I remember walking into the firm the first day and thinking: I. Have. Made. It.
But have I? Is working seventy to eighty hours a week making it?
John: How’s my girl?
Amazing, how reading something so innocent makes me feel his possessiveness.
Me: Still working.
John: That sucks. Are you alone?
Me: I’m sure there are a few people left in the building. That’s why we get paid the big bucks. If I average it out, I may get paid a little over minimum wage.
John: I can’t stop thinking about you.
That puts a fat smile on my face.
My phone rings while I’m typing as John switches to a video call.
“Sorry, I needed to see your face.”
“Aww, is cocky John admitting he needs me?” I realize Dennis never did.
“So much. I’ve jerked off twice today. Both times, I took a shower,” he says with a lopsided grin. When I blush, he says, “Do you want to watch?”
My jaw drops. My mouth opens wide as I stutter, “Wa-watch?”
“Look who’s stuttering now. Yeah, I’m alone. You’re alone.” The phone falls from his face to his bare chest, then it falls farther to a smidgen of black hairs in the center of his abdomen leading to the promised land. “Almost there.”
His hand slips under the band of his shiny black athletic shorts. At first, he strokes under the fabric. It isn’t until I say in broken breaths, “Yes, I want to watch,” that he scoots his shorts down and pulls out this thick erection.
“God, I miss you. I miss your soft skin and athletic body against mine.” He slips up and down his shaft. His masculine hand gripping and sliding causes a deep flutter in my core, and my thong instantly pools with arousal. “I miss my tongue swiping through your folds.”
I squirm until I get my skirt bunched above my hips and circle my clit. With broken breaths, I say, “I… miss… you too.”
“Show me,” he commands. “Put your heels on the desk.” I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I do as he says. “Set your phone against your laptop. Need to be hands free.” He swallows a chuckle.
Again, I follow directions, hearing the raw want in his tone.
“That’s it, sweet thing. You’re glistening. Slick and wet for me even though there’s a million miles between us. Does it feel good?”
“Yes.” I press harder and faster at the same pace as John until I work myself into a frenzy listening to how much he loves watching me self-pleasure. “I’m… oh John.” I lean back in my black leather desk chair until my arousal running down my inner thighs and pooling in my chair.
He moves up and down faster until he rips out a growl, and ropes of his own spew from his pulsating head. Gradually, the camera travels back up his chest, showing the evidence of his orgasm.
Finally, our faces are both back on the screen. Hot and red, we grin. “I’ve never done that.”
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