“Ant?” she whispers back.
“Are you wet?”
“I don’t know.” She giggles.
“Why don’t you touch yourself and find out?” I resume the warm purr.
She’s quiet for a long moment. I worry that I pushed her too far until her voice comes back a little strained.
“Yeah. I’m really wet.”
“I bet you are,” I whisper. “Are you touching yourself for me?”
“Ant,” she says just my name, and my whole body lights up.
“Do you think you could come for me now?”
She makes a soft noise that I can only interpret as an agreement.
“Would you put a couple fingers into that wet pussy?” I purr. She lets out a soft moan. My fist pumps furiously along my shaft. “Will you stroke yourself, for me? Play with your clit?”
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. I just sit with her, letting her listen to my continuous purring. Waiting to find out what else she needs from me.
There’s a little whimper on the other end of the phone. So quiet that I barely hear it. It’s gorgeous. Not the same noises that she made when she was with me. It’s different when you are touching yourself. There’s no surprises, nothing to tease or make you gasp.
“How are you doing, beautiful?” I ask. “Are you close? What do you need?”
“I don’t know—” She makes more quiet needy noises that make me squeeze my cock harder. “I don’t know what I need, Ant.”
“What if I was outside your window right now? Looking at you? Watching you put your hands between your legs. If I could see your dark nipples through your tank top. The way your mouth hangs open, those plump lips gasping and begging for me.”
“Ant. Please.”
I don’t think either of us knows what she’s begging for. “I’m outside watching, while I stroke myself, my big long dick, wishing you were wrapped around it. Maybe if you are a good girl, and come for me, I’ll fly across the street, open your window, sneak into your room, and fuck you into that mattress.”
“Yes. Yes. Ant.” She’s gasping now, her voice strained and broken.
“Come for me, baby girl.” I purr deep and long, my own pleasure half forgotten. At this point, all I can think about is her needs. Her desires. “You are going to come for me as many times as you can, and then, I’ll be at your side, using you, taking your body. Making it mine. Sliding into you and filling you up with my cum.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She’s whispering, her voice shattered and broken. I hear when she falls apart. The break in her gasps let me know she’s reaching her climax. I speed up my own strokes, trying to meet her. “Fuck. I?—”
A strangled noise that contains my name spills through the phone, and a breath later, my own cum splashes across the bottom of my desk.
“Wow. Ant. That was—did you?” She doesn’t finish her question, and she doesn’t need to. Her breathing slows to a more regular pace, but all of her words remain monosyllabic.
“Yes.” I purr for her, wishing it was my hand, or my mouth, or my cock that made her come. I’m okay if it’s just my voice.
“Oh my god, Ant. I really needed that.”
“Any time, beautiful.”
“Oh yeah?” She laughs. It’s such a perfect sound, I love hearing it from her.
“Yes. You need to fix this orgasm problem. Human women are already having tragically few orgasms. If you need to call me to get off, that's okay.”
She laughs again. “I wish it were that simple.”
“It can be,” I tell her. “If you want it to be. At least until you figure out how to come without me.”
