Page 36

TOM

C allie shut the door on me and then teased me with an image of her taking care of herself. I grabbed my phone and texted her.

Me: Why’d you leave me like that?

Callie: Do you honestly think anything good can come from what you were thinking of doing?

Me: Fine, but what am I supposed to do while you “relax?”

Callie: You can go back to the party. I’ll take care of Crew if he wakes up.

Me: Nope. Can’t.

Callie: Why not?

Me: It’s well known that nap time is sexy time.

I could hear her cackling down the hallway. Man, I was playing with fire, and nothing could get me to stop.

Callie: It is for me.

Me: But not me?

Callie: I won’t stop you.

Me: What are you doing behind that closed door?

Callie:

A second later, she sent me a photo that I had to expand. It looked like a large bullet. I wasn’t against toys, but my ex-girlfriends had never been so open about using sex toys. I don’t think we ever once discussed them.

Me: What’s that?

Callie: My trusty bullet.

Me: What does it do?

I wasn’t afraid of toys, but I certainly hadn’t ever been around a woman as comfortable with them as Callie was. I would put large sums of money on the fact that I had already overheard her using toys by herself.

Callie: It’s for clit stimulation.

I set my phone up for a video chat and called her. She declined the call once, and I tried to call her again.

“You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?” she asked as her face appeared on my phone screen.

“No,” I answered bluntly. “You are driving me to distraction, Callie.”

“What did I just say?” she asked.

“Nothing good could come from this. But here’s the thing, Cal, I can’t stop thinking about you.

When I’m on the ice? I’m wondering what you’re doing.

While we were at the party? I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.

And now you’ve got yourself locked in your bedroom, using a toy to get yourself off, and I’m supposed to go about my business?

” I asked, hearing the plea in my voice.

If I wasn’t so goddamned desperate to touch the woman, I might have the wherewithal to be embarrassed.

“I didn’t say that. I think we both need to keep our heads on straight. And if that means that I use a toy in my room by myself to clear up some of this tension, then that’s what I need to do. I’m sure you’ve masturbated before. Don’t pretend I’m your only means of relief.”

“Is that toy going to be enough for you?” I asked. Knowing that my hand would do nothing to satisfy me, it would take several rounds to feel like I could return to the party.

“No. But my imagination will help.” And fuck if I didn’t hear the hum of the bullet as she set up her phone so only her face was in the frame.

Fuck. My erection pressed painfully against my swim shorts, and I palmed myself, looking for just a bit of relief.

“Are we doing this?” I asked as her face went slack, and she moaned in pleasure.

“Grab your cock, Tom. I want you to describe it for me.”

Fuck yes, we were doing this. Shit, her moan sent a shock right to my cock.

I quickly pushed my shorts down over my hips, my cock hard, with a bead of moisture on the tip.

“Fuck, Callie. I’m so fucking hard for you. Do you want to see it?”

“Not today. Describe it, Tom.”

I wracked my brain for a way to describe my dick. My previous dick describing vocabulary stopped at hard.

“Tell me, Tom, is it thick and long? Is it heavy in your hand? Pre cum on the tip?” She groaned again, her own pleasure pulling her attention away from me.

“Yes,” I said as I started to work the shaft with my hand. “It’s thick and heavy in my hand and fucking dripping.”

“If you back me up against the wall again, be prepared, Tom. It took everything in me not to drop to my knees.”

My breathing became ragged, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her face on my phone screen. Her perfect little mouth opened, and every time a wave of pleasure hit, she bit her plump lower lip.

“You like sucking cock, Callie?” Where the fuck was this dirty talk coming from? I’d never done this before. I sure as hell never had a woman decline fooling around with me only to have phone sex one room over.

“Fuck, yes. God, I can’t wait to taste you. I’m so wet right now, Tom. I’m fucking myself with two fingers, the bullet on my clit. And fuck, yeah, I want to suck you off. Are you touching yourself? How does it feel.”

“So good, Callie. Shit, now I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.”

“Spit on your hand, make sure it slides, and pretend you’re fucking my mouth.”

I followed her direction, and we both found our rhythm, fucking ourselves but imagining fucking each other. Pretending that what we were doing wasn’t crossing a line or leading to more.

“Are you close?” I asked, trying to hold back and come with her.

“Mhmm,” she answered in a garbled voice. Taking that as a yes, I quickened my pace, working myself faster.

She cried out hard when she came, “Callie, fuck,” I let out a shout. My balls tightened, and my orgasm ripped through me, my cum releasing in ropes. I stared at her. Her face was completely relaxed, and she slowly turned back towards the phone camera. God, she was beautiful.

“That was nice,” she whispered, a lazy, dazed expression on her face.

Nice? I thought to myself. That might have been some of the best sex I ever had, and I hadn’t even touched her.

“You coming out of your room?” I asked, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah, give me a minute to get my head straight,” she said, her head dropping out of sight as I got a quick glance at her naked back.

Did she strip down completely? Make an event out of it?

Now, I would never get the image out of my head of her stripped down naked with toys anytime we were separated by a bedroom door.

I hung up the video call and quickly cleaned myself off, realizing that the shorts were toast. I would need to change before we headed back to the cookout. I wore a pair of grey sweatpants, planning to change once Crew woke up.

“Oh, no,” she said, walking up behind me. “No grey sweatpants unless you want me to lock myself back in my room.”

My cock twitched, trying to get back in the game again.

Nope, that wasn’t enough to satisfy me for long.

This woman was going to be the death of me, and she was so clearly off-limits only an idiot would try anything in this situation.

But here I was, letting my dick make my decisions for me, no better than a twelve-year-old boy.

I pulled a t-shirt over my head, “Better?” I asked.

“Hm.”

“Calliope,” I said, using her full name for emphasis, “Have you looked in a goddamned mirror? Are you honestly asking me to cover up so you can control yourself and then traipse around in those tiny shorts and that top where I can see the outline of your nipples?”

She looked down at her chest, “Oh, sorry,” as she self-consciously crossed her arms. “I forgot, my nipples are, well,” she stammered nervously and somehow blushed after rolling around her bed, telling me how hard she just finger fucked herself. “I have really big nipples.”

“What?” I asked. What did she consider big nipples?

“Sorry, I know I said I didn’t talk about past partners, but apparently my nipples are ‘too big’ and ‘weird,’” she said, making air quotes as she spoke, forgetting to cover her chest just long enough for me to see that even with the bra, you could see the outline.

“I’m not sure what asshat told you that, but I don’t care if your nipples are the size of thumbs. I’m going to worship every inch of those tits. And I bet you’re that responsive, and you’ll get off just from that, won’t you?”

Jesus Christ, Tom. I mentally berated myself. I had zero control with Callie. None.

Her lips parted again, something I was starting to recognize as arousal, and she stepped from side to side before her thighs squeezed together. Shit, she loved dirty talk, too.

“Zero to sixty,” she said in awe.

“Yeah, but come here,” I said, pulling her in for a hug.

Her body molded against mine, and I did my best not to turn it sexual.

Our video chat was sexy as hell, but I wasn’t one to screw and run, and right now, I only wanted to get close to her somehow.

I was a sucker for a good post-sex cuddle sesh, and if all I could get was a hug, I’d take it.

She nuzzled her face into my chest, breathing deeply, just as Crew yelled, “Dadda? Kiwi? I awake.”