Page 69 of Revelry
A satisfied rumble worked free from my chest. Something primal sparked to life at the idea of her touching herself while thinking about me. I wanted to beat my chest like a damn ape.
“What was I doing?” My hand rested over my cock, thick and hard and so hot, ready for release.
There was a small intake of breath before she whispered. “Using your mouth on me.”
I squeezed my dick, hard. “Fuck, Gertrude. I just bet you’d taste so fucking sweet.”
“Oh my God, Tate!” she cried, and again I thought I’d gone too far. I opened my mouth to apologize but a whimper came down the line, followed by a shaky exhale that shot straight through me.
“Where are you fingers, Gertrude?” I growled.
“Inside me,” she gasped. I could hear our conversation twice, through the phone and through the wall and it was like surround-sound, attacking me from all angles and driving my need higher.
“Are you wet?”
“Yes.”
“I want to hear it,” I grunted like an animal, my hand buried in my shorts and I hissed when I gripped my scalding hot flesh. I stroked slowly, imagining it was her small hand wrapped around me, taking tentative strokes. There was a pause before I heard the sound of her wetness as she worked her fingers in and out of herself.
“Tate,” she sighed, like she’d done earlier only now I was hearing the full effect, and it nearly tipped me over the edge.
“Has anyone used their mouth on you before?”
“No, never.”
“Good,” I grunted again. “I’ll be the first.” Both of us ignored the fact that I was talking like it would really happen. The fact that it couldn’t happen had a massive wave of disappointment crashing over me. Now I wanted nothing more than to taste Gertrude, watch her come apart on my tongue and flood my mouth.
“More, Tate. Give me more,” she panted.
“I’d lick you until you were screaming, your hands tugging my hair as you pull me up, begging me to fuck you.”
“Yes,” she hissed. “More!”
I was stroking myself in earnest now. My need too high, my cock too hard and ready to explode at the thought of one thing; Gertrude on her knees, her pink mouth ready and waiting.
“I’d fuck you nice and slow Gertrude, so you could feel every stroke, every second of me inside you. You’d beg me to go faster but I wouldn’t. I’d slow it down even more, until you couldn’t take it. Then I’d pound into you, fucking you hard and fast until you’re screaming.”
“Yes.”
“I’d pull out and push you to your knees and you’d open that pretty mouth nice and wide and swallow me down.” I was panting, stroking myself harder, imagining it was her pussy gripping me tight.
“Tate, I’m going to…ohhhh.” I heard her ragged breaths through the phone, heard a palm slap the wall between us, and then an uneven exhale. Just the sound of her orgasming sent me over the edge. I coated my stomach in hot spurts, stuttering from the intensity and struggling to get my breath back.
Looking at the mess I’d made, I felt the first stirrings of panic but for the first time ever, I was too blissed out to care.
“Tate, that was…” she trailed off.
“Yeah,” I replied, my voice uneven.
We both sighed into the phone, and I waited for the awkwardness to settle over us. But it didn’t.
“I like your idea of fun,” she joked.
“Me too.” I laughed. “I had fun today, on the hike,” I added, because I didn’t know what else to say and wasn’t ready to end the call.
When had I gotten so needy?
“Me too. I’ll start planning the next item on our Fagenda,” she giggled.
