Page 35 of The Lies That Shatter
“No! I know we can’t date or have sex because it will complicate things, but things are already complicated as it is. I know I can’t have all of you, but why can’t I have something?” I ask, sounding almost desperate.
With a mixture of confusion and intrigue, he asks, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, just becauseyoucan’t touch me, it doesn’t mean I can’t touch myself and tell you all about it.”
I don’t know where the words come from, or what the hell I’m thinking, but they’re out there now, and I don’t regret them. Actually, that’s a lie. I know exactly where the words came from. I’ve been led astray by my horny vagina.
“What?!” he screeches, several pitches higher than normal.
“You heard me. I was so worked up after the kiss the other night, you have no idea how intense my orgasm was.” My voice is deep, full of lust.
For a brief moment, I wonder what the hell I’m doing. I’m not a sexually confident girl, and I’ve definitely never had phone sex. I’m not all that sure I know how to talk about the things I do to myself when I think about Finn. It seems like something I shouldn’t be confessing. Yet, here we are, and I have zero fucking regrets the minute he opens his mouth, and I hear his deep, gravelly voice.
“Fuck, that’s hot. You touched your wet pussy while thinking about me, sweetheart?” Each word is dripping with sex, and my body starts to heat up.
“I was dripping so much, I was worried you’d see it on your jeans. I was so turned on that I barely made it through the door before I started touching myself,” I reply.
“Tell me what you did.” He doesn’t ask. It’s an instruction, and for the first time in my life, I want to do as I’m told.
“I stripped quicker than I ever have before, and threw myself onto the bed. In fact, I was sitting exactly where I am now?—”
His loud groan interrupts what I was about to say next. “You’re in bed now?”
“Yes.”
“Naked?” he asks tentatively.
I consider lying to him, but he will know. He wasn’t kidding before when he said I’m an open book to him. “No, I’m in shorts and a vest.”
“No bra or panties?” His voice catches on the last word, and he sounds like he’s in pain again. I’ve never felt more confident and sexy, knowing I’m the person who makes him come undone.
“No. What are you wearing?”
“Just some grey sweatpants,” he replies, and now it’s my turn to groan loudly. “What?” he asks, sounding confused as to why I’d groan at that.
“You do realise that grey sweatpants are like porn to women. There’s very little we find hotter than a topless man with some low-cut grey sweats on,” I reply, a blush spreading across my cheeks as I enlighten him on the marvel that is the grey sweats to women.
I’m not exaggerating either. They are the same to women as sexy lingerie and heels are to men. And the fact he’s wearing them so casually, without knowing how hot he looks in them is even worse.
I wish I could see him right now. I want to suggest we video call, but I’m worried that will burst the bubble and ruin the illusion we’re living in.
“I can’t imagine it’s hotter than the shorts I’m picturing you in,” he grumbles, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“They do make my ass look good. I will show you them one day,” I promise.
“You better. Now, get back to telling me what you did when you got home and stripped. I’m done picturing your little striptease in my head,” he jokes. Or at least I think he’s joking.
I clear my throat before telling him what happened. “I could still taste you on my tongue. My lips were swollen from your kisses, and my body was aching being apart from you. So many times when we were in the car did I want to take things further. I wanted to touch you, to let you touch me. But I knew you wouldn’t.”
“I wanted to, but I knew it would make it harder… Pun intended,” he adds, and I laugh.
“It felt hard, but I wanted to feel so much more. It was like I got a little preview of how things could be between us, and the rest I had to improvise in my head.”
“I was the same. I stroked my dick while I imagined what your pussy juices would taste like on my tongue—trying to remember the time I got to taste you. Picturing what you would sound like as you screamed my name. How tight your little cunt would feel clamped around my cock.” His words are raw and dirty, and it’s like he’s speaking directly to my core. I start to tingle all over, getting wetter with each filthy word.
I pause, wondering if I should say the words that are whirling around in my head, but fear gets the better of me. If he learns my secret, he may not want to continue with this, and I don’t want it to end. “Sounds like we were imagining the same things. I wanted to know what you felt like, how big you’d feel in my hands. I wanted to taste you and see what you look like as you fall apart. I’ve always wondered what noises you’d make. Does that sound crazy?”
A humourless laugh echoes around the room. “Sweetheart, it definitely doesn’t sound crazy. I’ve wondered the exact same thing. My dreams are consumed by imagining the types of noises you’d make, and how you’d scream my name.”
