Page 49 of Coast to Coast

“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.

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