My cell rang about ten minutes after midnight; I glanced at the clock, raising an eyebrow as I put down my book and picked up the phone. I already had a decent idea of who might be calling me this late, but still it was an unexpected surprise.
“Hello?” I said, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Without your clothes, you’d be naked.”
I smiled. “Hi, Ry. How’s your trip going?”
“It’s going okay,” my husband answered. “Missing something, though.”
“Hm, whatever might that be, I wonder?” I teased him. I moved my book to the bedside table and rolled onto my side, getting a little more comfortable. “Let’s see, when you left here you had your suitcase, your keys, your wallet—”
“And two loudmouthed, sweaty guys,” he finished for me. “But I really wish you had let me bring your ass along with me, too, Catie. Theirs just don’t do it for me like yours does.”
“Mm-hm, well, I needed it,” I teased him. “But don’t worry, it’ll only be two more days, won’t it?”
“That’s too long for me,” he said. His voice dropped an octave, and it brought a sneaky grin to my face.
“Well,” I purred into the phone, slipping one hand down my belly to the band of my panties. “What can we do about that, you think?”
“What were you doing when I called?”
“Just reading,” I replied, glancing over at the book I had put aside. The black-and-white silhouette of a nude woman’s backside gleamed back at me in the dim light of my reading lamp; she wore a collar with a slender metal chain hanging down from it, dangling the length of her spine and right between her buttocks.
“Reading what?” he whispered in my ear.”
“Oh… nothing dirty, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking your lying,” he teased. “Bad Catie. Am I going to have to spank you when I get home?”
“If you can catch me,” I murmured.
“So what were you reading?”
“Some high-tension political drama,” I said, feigning syrupy innocence. “You know me… got to have my courtroom thriller fix.”
“Would this thrilling courtroom happen to have an oddly disproportionate amount of naked women in it?”
“Now, Ry,” I said. “Whatever would it have naked women in it for?”
“Because I know what you read on Friday nights before bed,” he murmured. “And it’s not John Grisham.”
I laughed quietly, snuggling a little deeper under the covers.
“Where are your road trip buddies?” I whispered into the phone.
“Next room over,” he murmured back. “It’s attached, though, so I’ve got to be a little quiet.”
“Oh, I see,” I purred. With my free hand, I gently started massaging the soft mound of my sex, slowly rubbing it in wide, shallow circles.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
“Guess,” I teased him. “Since you’re so sure you know how I spend my Friday nights.”
“Your black peek-a-boo teddy with the semi-see-through cups and the fluffy lace along the neckline,” he said immediately. I laughed again at his quick response, shaking my head even though I knew he couldn’t see it.
“No, silly!” I hissed. “Guess again.”
“Catholic School Girl skirt?” he tried.
“No, why would I be wearing that to bed?”
“Because you knew I’d call,” he said—I could practically hear the goofy smile on his face.
“One last guess,” I said. “And if you’re wrong I’m hanging up and turning off the phone.”
“No!” he said furtively. “Okay, okay, I’ve got it this time…. you’re wearing…”
He paused, thinking quickly to himself, and then came the eureka.
“Ah,” he whispered confidently. “You’re wearing the satin white babydoll with the side slit, half-lace cups and the white ribbon down the side, with the matching satin g-string that ties on your hip. The one you wore on our honeymoon.”
“Very good,” I purred. “And how did you know that?”
“I’m a genius,” he said simply. “And because it’s Friday night, you’re settling into bed with your favorite book of erotic stories, and that little satin number makes you feel super sexy while still being comfortable enough to sleep in when you’re finally ready to call it a night.”
“Oh-ho, look who knows so much about his wife and her habits,” I teased him. “What else have you got?”
“How’s a raging hard-on for you?” he whispered. “Because I’ve got more of that then I know what to do with.”
“I bet I know what to do with it,” I said softly. “Of course… too bad I’m all the way back home, alone in bed in my little babydoll, and you’re all the way upstate with nothing but a bottle of lube and your big, warm hand to satisfy you.”
“I didn’t bring any lube.”
“I slipped it in your shaving kit,” I said with a grin. “Next to the travel-size shaving cream.”
A pause on the other end of the line. I could hear him reaching for his bags and digging quietly through them.
“Oh, Catie, what would I do without you?” he finally said. I chuckled quietly into the phone.
“So now, I suppose you’re all set,” I said. “Good night?”
“Oh, hell no,” he said. “It’s going to take more than a little bit of lube to get me off tonight, baby.”
“Well what else can I do for you?” I asked. I slipped my hand out from my panties and idly tickled my fingers up and down my belly.
“You can come for me,” he whispered. “Oh, I want to hear you come, Catie…”
“Hm,” I murmured. “I think I might be able to oblige you there. That is, of course… if you’re willing to help me out.”
“Always willing,” he said.
“Then tell me, honey,” I said, my voice low and husky as I reached out to turn off my reading lamp, leaving me in cool darkness. “What should I do first?”
“Why don’t you put on some music for us?” he suggested.
“What would you like?”
“Something soft,” he said. “A little bit exotic maybe… Blue Stone.”
“Your wish is my command,” I said. I reached out in the dark and grabbed my iPod from its docking station, setting it to the Blue Stone playlist before returning it, adjusting the volume to low as the quietly hypnotic melodies started to play. “How’s that, lover?”
“You like it?” he said.
“Uh-huh,” I said, nodding to myself. “And what should I do now?”
“You have the phone in your right hand or your left?”
“You lying on your back?”
“My side,” I said. Already I was starting to slowly sway my hips to the sultry rhythm of the music.
“Roll onto your back,” he instructed.
“Now run your left hand over your tits,” he whispered. “Above the lace—just brush them a little, tease them through the fabric.”
I made a small sound of enjoyment as I followed his instructions—the satin whispered under my fingers. “It feels nice, baby.”
“Sure it does,” he replied. “Run your thumb over your nipple.”
I did—it tickled, a sweetly tempting sensation tingling all around my areola.
“You like that?” rasped Ryan’s voice in my ear. I murmured soft agreement.
“Now pluck it a little, babe. Pluck it through the fabric, just like I do.”
I giggled as I did; I could feel the little peak rapidly stiffening beneath the satin and lace, eagerly coming to attention.
“Is it hard?” Ryan asked, as if he could read my mind.
“Yeah,” I said back. “How about you?”
“Still hard as a rock,” he said.
“Are you playing with yourself?”
“Only a little,” he said.
“Well,” I replied. “Pour a little of that lube into your palm and get started, why don’t you?”
Now he chuckled softly. I heard the sound of the phone being carefully juggled as he complied.
“Oh,” he marveled quietly. “This stuff is new, isn’t it?”
“Warming Massage Oil for Him,” I murmured back. “You like it?”
“I do,” he said. “It makes me think of being in your mouth… all hot and wet…”
“Good,” I said.
“Do you have some for yourself?” he asked.
“I don’t think I’m going to need it,” I said cryptically. “If you keep telling me just what to do, of course.”
“How’re your tits?”
“Good,” I said again. By now I had both nipples at rapt attention, thrilling like little electric sparks when I gently squeezed them.
“Can you hold the phone against your shoulder?” he asked. I shifted myself, grabbing for a pillow to help me prop the tiny cell phone against me.
“Lick your fingers,” he instructed. “Both hands—suck your first two fingers for me like you’re sucking the head of my cock.”
I did as he asked, moaning for him as I licked my fingertips, sucking them lasciviously for his enjoyment.
“Now play with your nipples,” he said. “Slip the lace down and pinch those little pink sluts hard.”
I did—a thrillingly naughty burst of excitement went through me, and I moaned a little louder. The ceiling fan was going above me; the soft breeze of air blew cool across my wet fingers and the stiffened buds between them.
“Oh, Ry,” I murmured. “It feels really good… how do you feel?”
“I’m doing alright,” he said. “Going slow, taking my time with you.”
“How’s that lube working out for you?”
“Really nice,” he said.
“It’s too bad you’re not here with me,” I whispered. “I wish I could feel your cock in my hand right now… stroke your shaft slowly, squeezing it just a little until I got to the beautiful bulge of the head…”
“Oh, yeah,” he said.
“Squeeze you a little harder, then,” I said. “I love the way you feel in my palm… so hard I just have to have you inside of me.”
“How wet are you?”
“Mm, almost soaked through my panties,” I said.
“Still playing with your tits?”
“Pinch your nipples again for me,” he commanded. “Squeeze your tits together like I’ve got my cock between them.”
“Uhn,” I murmured, closing my eyes as I obeyed. “Oh, Ry…”
“I want to suck those tits so bad, Catie,” he rasped in my ear. “Want to take those stiff little nipples in my mouth and taste them, run my tongue all over them and listen to how you moan.”
“I am moaning,” I giggled.
“Get one of your toys, babe,” he said.
“You know which one,” he said. “Since you want my cock in your hands so much…”
I did know which one: the Clone Your Boyfriend model dildo I’d bought for him as an April Fool’s Day prank. The kit came with a molding agent to create an identical replica of the model’s cock and let you make your own, personal sex toy out of the man in your life. We’d laughed about it together… and I’d discovered Ry really enjoyed the idea of me using his “stunt double” to get off when he wasn’t around.
I grabbed the phone again as I rolled on my side to reach into the bedside drawer where I kept my personal goodies. The stunt double was right on top—I wondered to myself if Ryan had snuck it there before he left.
“I’ve got it,” I said quietly as I rolled back, propping the phone with the pillow again.
“Still really wet?” he asked. I murmured an affirmative—by this time my panties were almost entirely soaked through.
“Untie that g-string,” he said. “Wriggle on out of it.”
“It’s off, Ryan,” I said as I slipped it down under the sheets.
“Run two fingers down that hot little slit of yours,” he whispered. “Tell me how wet you are.”
I traced my fingertips along my outer labia as he instructed—my pussy was already hot, opening up eagerly to be filled with a hard, demanding shaft. When I was finished running my fingers along the cleft, they came back slick and dewy with my come.
“Lick them,” Ryan said when he heard my appreciative sigh. I did, sucking them enthusiastically, tasting my arousal and moaning for him as I did.
“Ryan,” I said breathlessly, resting my wet fingers on my nipple again as I opened my eyes. “How are you doing?”
“Still going slow over here,” he said. “Just loving the sound of you playing with yourself, baby… you naughty little thing.”
“Go faster,” I whispered at him. “Get a little more lube on your hand—start pumping it nice and steady for me.”
He complied, taking a moment to pour out a little more slick lube on his rigid member and then moaning as he took it firmly in his hand again.
“That’s how wet I am for you,” I breathed heavily. “I’m so wet and hot, Ryan… I need your cock in me or I’m going to go fucking crazy.”
“So then slide me into you, then.”
I bent my knees and tilted my pelvis up a little, running the head of the dildo up and down my wet, quivering slit, pressing it lightly against the stiff bead of my clitoris before letting it slip down to my entrance, pressing just the tip of it into me. I caught my breath as it sent a quick thrill through my vaginal muscles, and Ryan muttered an encouraging little uh-huh in my ear.
“Am I in you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I told him. “Just the tip—oh…”
“All the way in, Catie.”
I obeyed, sliding the dildo in deep, feeling it fill my eager, pleasantly slick pussy. I moaned, arching my back as I repeated the motion, sliding the toy in and out again, leisurely allowing myself to savor each inch of my husband’s wonderful cock, fucking me slow and steady.
“Do you like that?” he whispered.
“Oh, yeah, baby,” I moaned. “I really do…”
“Fuck yourself a little harder,” he said. “I’m not sure you’re enjoying it quite as much as you could be.”
I could hear him breathing heavily now, catching up with my rhythm as he pumped his own stiff hard-on, wet with the warm lube as I panted in his ear.
“Oh, Ry,” I moaned.
“Are you feeling good, Catie?”
“Amazing,” I gasped. It turned into a moan as I rocked my hips up, my pussy tightening around the rigid, gratifying shape of the cock in me.
“Where’s that other hand of yours?” he asked.
“On my breast,” I said.
“Put it to good use,” he said. “Play with your clit.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked; each slow stroke of the dildo was filling me with mildly drunken pleasure—my heart thumped a little faster, my tits heaving as I rocked back and forth against my toy.
“Two fingers on your clit,” he commanded. “Tap it a little.”
It sent a fresh wave of pleasure through my loins and I sighed happily.
“Oh, good girl,” Ry said; now I thought I could hear the quiet sounds of his own rhythm, much faster now as he guided me—I imagined the sight of his beautiful erection, tall and thick in his hands, the beautiful swell of his perfect head popping up enthusiastically from between his closed fingers again and again as he masturbated, the slick gleam of lube glistening on his smooth skin.
“Tease it in a little circle, Catie,” he said, and I did. “Is your clit hard, baby?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “It’s all stiff and tender—every time I touch it, it’s like a little shock going through my pussy.”
“I’m working my cock hard for you,” he said, and I could hear it in his voice.
“Are you going to come, baby?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, I am,” he promised. “I’m still getting there but I can already feel it all pent up… I’m going to fucking explode.”
I shuddered, moaning long and loud, my pussy throbbing as I thrust the dildo harder, faster. Ryan must have heard the sounds of my approaching orgasm because he stopped me suddenly.
“Slow down,” he commanded. I whimpered at the thought but I managed to steady my rhythm, sliding his cock in deeply and slowly, feeling my pussy tremble around its smooth contours, aching for more.
“Ryan, please,” I begged him. “I want to come so badly!”
“You want to, Catie?”
“Say it again.”
“I want to come!” I cried. “Please, Ryan, finish me?”
“Go ahead,” he whispered furtively. “Go for it, baby.”
In the background I could hear him, too, the sound of his pumping now hectic and fast; I matched it with the dildo, eagerly thrusting my hips to take it harder, deeper, feeling it ignite the rapid sensation that would take me to my peak.
“Come for me, Catie, baby,” Ryan urged me. “Let me hear it happen.”
“Oh Ryan,” I gasped. “I’m there—I’m there, Ry, I’m coming—oh!”
My climax was sudden and intense: it started deep in my core and shuddered outwards, making my limbs quake as I lost control, my pussy seizing greedily around the cock deep inside of me. As I surrendered to the height of it I was aware Ry was making urgent sounds of joy on his end of the phone as well, grunting heavily and then all at once moaning with me, his voice hitching once, twice as he came, too—I smiled at the thought of his come spurting from between his fingers, running down his hand. The last of my tremors finally faded and I sighed happily into the phone.
“Ryan?” I murmured after long, lovely moments basking in the afterglow.
“I love you, hon.”
“I love you, too,” he replied cheerfully.
“I’m really glad you called tonight.”
“Aw, Catie,” he chuckled happily, still panting as I heard him shift positions, getting comfortable in his bed.
“I’m really glad you wore the white babydoll!”