A tale of two lovers who in this instance relieve each other over the phone while imbibing.
For My Woman's Love
I don't remember when it started exactly, but soon it will be three years. I'd like to think I haven't wasted a few of the best years of my life on a woman.
One day in particular, our schedules worked out wonderfully. I got to hear her voice on the phone. I know. You're probably thinking that you talk to your significant other often on the phone, a handful of times every day, right?
Our relationship was strained somewhat. She resided for a good sized chunk of our time at home across the water in England. It's a beautiful country from what I've seen. I've fallen in love with the architecture there. Sorry. I'm getting distracted. I hope you'll forgive me.
It turns out that her daughter was sick. Fibrositis if I'm not mistaken. It required the woman that I was seeing to tend to her daughter almost constantly. I repeatedly told her that I'd be okay, I'd wait for any free time she could manage. I was willing to do whatever it took as long as eventually I got to spend time with the woman I'd fallen in love with, the very same that still has my heart because it is fairly recently that we've ended. Or so I've told myself since I haven't heard anything from her in over a month.
Well, it worked out that she and I could talk on the phone because it happened to be my birthday. I was beyond elated at the suggestion and told her so. She called me before my roommates left for the day and stayed on the line until the door closed. The rattle of a set of keys in the lock reminded me that we would be left alone to speak about whatever it was our conversation evolved into.
"Are they gone?"
She asked with a tinge of excitement in her English city-drawl.
She sounded like the dew that oftentimes rests upon a summery growth of flowers early in the morning; soft, loftily intimate and a little weathered. All the same, I immediately was affected by the tone of her words.
"They just left. I see them leaving in the car now."
I laughed immaturely, more so from my relief. The burden and pressure I felt from their presence was lifted, gone, it didn't exist. She giggled cutely. I could tell she was vicariously happy because I was and due to her own simmering desires. I heard it in the way she breathed though I knew her mouth wasn't near her end of the receiver.
"Well? What do you want to do? It's your birthday."
She enunciated the last word and let it linger on two separate syllables as her tone dropped to a sultry nuance she reserved especially for me. I couldn't think of anything. My mind went blank, a completely clean slate. I had one thing going through it though.
"You. You are what I want."
I whispered the words slowly and heard her breathing quicken.
"I didn't quite hear you."
Her drawl soothed the ache I felt for her ever so slightly. When she said you, it was dragged out and I shivered a little as I heard her say it.
"I want you to be here."
I heard her sigh as I repeated my exclamation. I took a breath and grabbed the bottle I'd stowed away in the freezer last night. She heard me ruffle the paper bag it was wrapped in. I discerned a faint gasp and quielty laughed into the phone.
She said just as quietly.
"I heard you. I just got the bottle out of the fridge."
My words came out like a father might as he is calmly explaining how to do something to his daughter. They were fluid in their escape from my lips to her ears.
"I've got mine too. Remember the one you mentioned? I found some brand. And it has this bottle. When I saw it, I knew I had to pick it up."
She let me hear her pour some into a glass. She went on to describe how she tried a little and thought it was alright.
"I couldn't find the variety I wanted, but I stuck with the Stoli. They've been pretty good to me so far."
I opened the top and tried a sip. It was bitter and to be expected. She asked me if I was ready. Together, we downed a little of our respective bottles. I'd begun to feel the buzz and got a little proud. I was unable to put my eagerness into words. Simply stating it did the trick.
"I'm hard as a rock right now."
I whispered and felt the obstruction standing on end. My mind saw one thing and it was the woman on the other end of the phone.
"Is he hard?"
She cooed in a mildly belittling tone. I didn't mind because when she said it, I felt loved and I knew that is how she meant it. I vocally agreed with her suggestion.
"Do you want to take a picture? Maybe send it to me?"
I listened to her speak and suddenly her idea sounded like the best one yet.
"If I can figure out how to work this camera, I will."
I laughed at my inability to work such a simple device and heard the sound of her hearty giggling, dampened by the realization that I could hear her.
"You don't have to stop. I love it when you laugh."
I mumbled with a warmth I'd never before felt in my life coursing through my body in that moment. She started up and heard me fumbling with the phone. My jeans were down, my hands worked of their own accord. Luckily my shoulder obeyed my wishes and kept the phone in my ear.
"I can hear you. Are you rubbing him? Is he leaking yet?"
I felt a chill dance down my spine as she pronounced the verbs at a soothing motherly pace. I agreed again without speaking and I made out the sound of her adjusting in her seat.
"I'm. So. Wet."
She softly added. The noise of her touching herself sent me into my own world for a minute. I imagined everything about her that I'd experienced for myself. Sliding inside of what she described to me as she said it.
"I put my finger in there. I'm clenching. Squeezing. I'd be milking you. Do you want to be inside me?"
She hesitated for a moment.
I nodded in agreement.
"Yeah? Okay. My legs are wide for you. Come on. I'm waiting."
She sighed as I could almost feel her velveteen walls grabbing onto me, trapping me there in the safety of her slippery innards.
"I feel you. Go deeper. Deeper."
Her voice trailed off. I heard her frigging herself with a toy I'd not only seen but used in tandem on her when we were together. There was no way I'd let a second man into the bedroom with her. I was trembling a little and listened to the strain of her breaths, a slight hesitation in between gasps.
"Oh god. Oh. Oh fuck!"
She could hear me breathing and I whispered very politely.
"I'm gonna come. I want to come inside of you."
I felt the discomfort in my urethra and knew it was almost there. I kept on with it.
The moment she whimpered, I immediately promised that I'd wait and I truly did stop. She was crying on the other end.
"You should be coming inside me. Here."
The reverberation of regret, that somehow we could have arranged a meeting, came through in her voice and it came across crystal clear on the phone. She realized I had waited.
"I'm sorry. It's not right for me to tell you to stop."
She sniffed and wiped her nose. I would have held her in my arms if I was there. I'd reassure her that she was right to tell me anything she wanted to.
"You can still come inside. I know it must have been uncomfortable to stop so suddenly."
I bit my bottom lip and started what I'd been doing just moments before. The familiar pangs caught up to me and I gave in immediately. I was leaking very little, but it was enough. Jets came out. I struggled to capture them and I knew darn well that she was listening to me.
"You won't believe how hard I just-"
I shuddered and the sound of her drawl made me twitch.
"I know. Was it good?"
She questioned me, almost removed from her own pleasure entirely to see if I was satisfied with mine.
"You have no frickin' idea."
Emptily, I was shooting blanks for roughly a minute afterwards as I cleaned up. When we continued talking, my speech was slurred a little. The bottle got lighter and I started to lose minutes here and there. She stayed on the line with me. I was happy for a while until the buzz departed from me gradually.
Then the tears flowed. So many came out and she consoled me through it all.
As day turned to night, I knew I was tired. It ended up being somewhere around eleven or twelve when I drifted off. She talked to me throughout my couple of hours and was there when I awoke at about two in the early morning.
I ran to the bathroom and returned to tell her what happened. She asked if I felt better and I didn't. I really didn't. We talked for a few more hours. Every subject came up. The news, our lives, work. Eventually it went where I hoped it would. She seduced me again over the phone and helped me with my morning urges.
Shortly after, she bid me adieu and mentioned getting some sleep as the keys once again turned in the door's lock. Jingling and jangling as they clanged. My head pounded, rested upon my pillow and I was out like a light. Once again, the world didn't exist. Only her and I existed and were the sole ones that mattered in the grand scheme of things.