Page 9

Susie

On Wednesday night, my phone lights up with a new message from Jonah.

This week has been excruciatingly long already, with the promise of Friday never far from my mind.

It’s been downright distracting, and even though we exchanged numbers before going our separate ways on Monday—something Jonah rightfully pointed out could have saved us a lot of angst and misunderstanding if we’d had the foresight to do it before he left my place Friday—I’ve so far refrained from texting him.

But just as I’m about to curl up in bed and reach for the book I checked out from the library this afternoon, a buzzing from my bedside table catches my attention.

I’m surprised, but not disappointed in the slightest when I look over at my phone and see his name on the screen.

Hey! How’s your week going?

Smiling, I text back immediately, not caring at all that I’m outing myself as eager and completely uncool. Hi you. Could be better.

Three dots appear immediately as he types his reply.

I could say the same.

We send a few more texts back and forth about his flight out there and my week at the Bureau. When the conversation lulls a little, those three dots appear, disappear, and then reappear before his next message arrives.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot this week.

Oh? I respond. Good things, I hope.

The best things.

I’m grinning at my phone like an idiot. I’ve been thinking about you, too.

More dots, appearing and reappearing. What kind of things have you been thinking, Susie?

Oh. So we’re going to have that kind of conversation, are we? I think for a minute before responding.

I don’t know , I finally type. You didn’t give me a lot to fantasize about.

Didn’t I? The way you came on my fingers would suggest otherwise.

My toes curl, and a little thrill of arousal races straight down between my thighs. Yeah. But you got to see all of me. And I didn’t get to see any of you. A crime, really.

It’s a risky text. I hope he knows I’m teasing him. Maybe being a little mean, yeah, but also hoping he takes it as the joke it’s meant to be.

When he texts me back, there’s a photo attached. Heart racing, I open it to see a picture that takes me a minute to recognize, but when I do, I nearly choke on my own spit.

It’s the top portion of a pair of light grey sweatpants, pulled tight to reveal the outline of…

You may not have been able to see it, but I bet you could feel my cock pressed against your ass while I was getting you off.

Jonah’s text comes a moment after the pic. It makes me blush, actually blush. I stare at the screen for a full minute, mind racing with how to reply, until he texts again.

Shit. Did I just make this really weird?

No! I hurriedly type back. Just trying to scrape my jaw off the floor.

Good to know it opens that wide. Might come in handy someday.

No. He absolutely did not just say that.

Snapping my own pic, one that shows off my legs where they’re propped up in front of me in bed, the short shorts I’m wearing pushed even higher to leave my thighs bare all the way to my knees, I send it his way with a text.

I’ve got good knees, too. Mighta found out if you would have stayed longer.

It’s his turn to take his sweet time texting back, giving me just long enough to second guess if my message was a lame cop-out considering he sent me a photo showing the whole outline of his dick, when my phone buzzes with his reply.

It’s another photo. This time, he’s tugged the waistband of his sweats down a few inches, showing a sliver of green skin, a happy trail of coarse black hair, and the very top of a thick, veiny shaft.

I fully intend to find out when I’m home on Friday.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

Two can play at this game.

The next pic I send back is… decidedly less innocent than the shot of my legs.

Kneeling on my bed, I turn toward the lamplight shining from the bedside table, pull one strap of my tank top down to expose my breast, throw my hair forward in what I hope reads as sexy and tousled rather than feral and insane, and take a few selfies to find the best angle.

When I’m satisfied I’ve got a sexy shot, I send it his way. I hope you give me something better to fantasize about this time.

The next message he sends comes through a minute later. No text, just a single pic.

It’s a long, thick orc cock, gripped in his enormous fist.

And… holy shit.

Without thinking, without giving myself time to chicken out or second guess, I call him. On a video call.

Jonah answers on the second ring. Wherever he’s at is dim, with only a bit of faint warm light from a lamp or candle beside him, throwing the broad planes of his face into highlights and shadows that make him look dark and handsome and delicious. “Susie?”

Hi,” I say, suddenly shy as I peer at him through the screen.

“Hi yourself,” he says with a warm chuckle in his voice. “What are you up to tonight, pretty girl? Other than driving me out of my mind?”

“Hanging out at home in my bedroom,” I tell him, panning away from my face for a second to show him the room. “Just… enjoying the pictures you’re sending me.”

A beat of silence. “How much are you enjoying them?”

I’m about to answer, to tell him all kinds of dirty things I’d like to do to drive him even further out of his mind, when a wicked idea strikes me.

“Should I show you?”

Who even am I, and what is it about this orc that makes me turn into some kind of sex-mad vixen?

And, apparently, an exhibitionist.

“Show me, Susie,” Jonah says, voice deep and tempting. “I want to see you.”

Propping up the phone against my footboard, I scoot back and kneel in the middle of the bed.

On the screen, Jonah’s eyes are rapt, and his growl of approval echoes through the speakers as I reach for the hem of my tank top and pull it over my head.

Bare from the waist up, I run my hands over my breasts, pinching my nipples softly, keeping eye contact with Jonah the entire time.

“These too?” I tease, sliding my fingers along the waistband of my shorts.

“Off,” he growls.

I take my sweet time sliding my shorts and panties over my hips, turning to the side so he can’t really see anything other than the curve of my hip and ass.

“Susie,” Jonah says, almost tortured this time.

God, teasing him is fun.

“Mmm?” I murmur, slowly sliding my shorts down my thighs before going down on my hands and knees and kicking them aside.

“Let me see you.”

I arch my back, taking my time, and glance back over at where the phone is propped up. “Let me see you first.”

With another harsh growl, he tips his camera downward to where he’s stroking his cock. The grip he has on himself is tight and firm, and I watch, mesmerized, for a few moments as he jerks himself off.

I know how big that hand of his is, and if the comparison is any indication, his cock is… oh, my god.

But, I mean, why am I surprised? Everything about this orc is larger than life.

“Susie,” he rasps. “Are you just going to watch, or are you going to show me that pretty cunt?”

With a choked whimper, I lower down onto the bed and pull a couple of pillows to rest under my back.

Legs spread and pussy thrust forward toward the camera, it’s the dirtiest damn thing I’ve ever done.

My whole body buzzes with excitement as I prop myself up on an elbow and look down to see Jonah’s face filling the screen again.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Lay back,” he says, voice low and rough. “Spread your legs.”

I obey, reaching down to stroke the inside of my thighs, teasing just at the edge of my pussy.

“Are you wet for me, Susie?”

I let my finger slide just inside. “Yes. I’m fucking soaked for you.”

“Finger yourself. Fill yourself up.”

I dip my middle and ring fingers into myself, grinding down onto my hand, but the moan that slips out of me is more frustration than pleasure.

“Yours feel better,” I whine, pulling my hand away and plunging back in. “You fill me up better.”

“Fuck, Susie,” he says, breathing hard. “You don’t even know how full I could make you.”

The idea of it, the thought of his thick cock sinking into me, pressing deep, stretching me to my limit, makes a rush of liquid warmth pool between my legs.

“Play with your clit,” Jonah commands, voice even more rough and hoarse than before.

Still thrusting my fingers into my pussy, I circle my clit with the pad of my thumb. The slightest touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling out through me. I press my hips into that touch, arch and strain and grind against my hand until the first tremors of my approaching climax build.

“Are you going to come?” Jonah asks, barely intelligible now.

He’s panting, breathless, and when I sneak a glance up at my phone, he’s positioned his own so the camera shows the whole of his still-clothed torso and his face and his cock.

His hand moves roughly up and down the thick green length of his shaft, slick with precome leaking from the fat, bulbous head.

All of it—his full attention and his rapt arousal and the satisfied noises he’s making—are enough to have me bucking harder into my hand. Imagining Jonah’s hands and cock in place of my own fingers, I work myself harder, almost forgetting he asked me a question until…

“Yes!” I groan. “Yes, I’m going to come. Jonah, I—”

My climax breaks over me before I can get another word out. Jonah groans sharply, and when I glance down at the screen there are ropes of thick white come exploding from the tip of his cock, coating his hand as he continues to thrust into his grip and murmur my name.

It’s the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and it just feeds into the intensity of my orgasm as I call out his name and come back down from that peak.

For a couple minutes, neither of us speaks. It doesn’t feel strange, though. It doesn’t feel awkward or shameful or anything but natural as both our breathing returns to normal.

Jonah’s the one to break the silence first. “Stay on the phone for a minute? I need to go clean up.”

I tell him I will, then make a quick dash to the bathroom to do my own cleanup before grabbing my phone and crawling back into bed and under the covers.

Peering through the screen, I get nosy, squinting to get a better look at where he is.

The lighting is still dim, but from what I can see, he seems to be in some sort of cave.

The walls are made of stone, and in the background there’s a pile of something that looks like soft, plush furs laid out to make a bed.

Jonah comes back into frame, picks the phone up, and his handsome face fills the screen. He smiles when he sees I’m still there.

“You look cozy.”

I smile back and pull my fleece blanket up to my chin. “I am. And I could say the same for you.”

He shrugs, looking a little self-conscious. “Yeah, uh, I’m visiting my family and it’s a little… rustic out here.”

“Sorry,” I say quickly. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I mean.”

“It’s not that. It’s just, I don’t know when talking about all the orc stuff is going to weird people out.”

All the orc stuff. Like talking about his family and where he comes from might be offensive to some people.

It’s probably not far from the truth, either.

Since Congress passed the Paranormal Acts, there’s been no shortage of debate and criticism and backward attitudes around the question of how paranormal beings should integrate into society.

The Bureau is on the forefront of that fight, working to help everyone find their place and smooth the transition. Still, it can’t be easy to know that some humans look at paranormals with scorn and don’t want them to be a part of their world.

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” I tell him. “If you’d like to share, I’d love to hear about it.”

Jonah’s smile returns. “Alright. Yeah, we can talk about it.”

So we do. We talk about the village where he’s visiting his family. Set far back into the Appalachian mountains, he tells me how much of a shock it was to move out of the dens once the Acts passed and go to a human college in Chicago before graduating and moving to Seattle.

“I’m back out here for the week helping my sister and her girlfriend move into their first place together,” he says, and goes on to explain about the orc custom of coming together as a community to help couples move into their first homes.

I tell him about my winding path from a small town in Kansas to college in Denver to making the move to Seattle and starting at the Bureau a couple of years ago.

“I suppose I just ran out of room to keep heading west,” I say with a laugh.

Jonah smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m really glad we both ended up in the same city.”

“I am, too.”

A slow warmth spreads in my chest as the conversation meanders from there. We talk about some of our favorite spots in the city and all the differences from the small towns where we grew up. We talk about our families, and where we want to go in our careers at the Bureau.

When my eyelids finally start drooping, I belatedly remember he’s in a time zone that’s three hours later than it is here.

“Sorry for keeping you so late,” I tell him. “You must be exhausted.”

Jonah chuckles. “I’d stay up all night talking to you, Susie.”

I can’t help the big goofy smile that spreads across my face, one that’s matched by his own.

“I can’t wait to see you on Friday,” I say.

“I can’t wait, either. But you should get some sleep. Wouldn’t want you going into work tired tomorrow, especially if you have any expense reports to turn in. I’ve seen what they look like on a good day.”

“Hey!” I protest with a startled laugh. “I try. Numbers just aren’t my forte.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m well-aware.”

I laugh again, shaking my head. “Alright, alright. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Susie.”