Beautiful Outlaw by Emily Minton
Phone Sex
Shay
Hitting the speaker on my phone, I lay it on the pillow beside my head and move one hand to my breast, while the fingers of my other hand work my clit. “It feels so good.”
“Slide your fingers into that tight little pussy. Can you feel me plunging my cock into you?” His voice is rough with pleasure.
My fingers pump into my wet depths as I close my eyes, getting lost in Bowie’s breathless words while I imagine exactly what he says. “Yeah, Bowie, I feel you. So hard,” I groan.
“That’s it, baby. Rub your clit and come on my cock.”
Doing as he says, my fingers circle my clit. Each flick of my fingers sends shots of pleasure throughout my entire body. I’m primed and ready to explode. I can hear Bowie’s breath hitch on the other side of the line. From the last several nights, I can tell he is close, so I let out a soft moan, knowing how he loves to hear me.
“Are you almost there, baby?”
“Ahh, Bowie, I’m right there.”
“Fuck, Shay, come. Come now. Let me hear you.”
I imagine his hand circling his thick shaft as he strokes his cock, the muscles in his arm straining with the fierceness of his efforts. Nothing my man does is anything less than fierce, including him working us to our mutual orgasm. The knot in my stomach builds and builds until it has nowhere further to go. Finally, the knot snaps and my world is lost in Bowie’s grunt of pleasure and the crashing ecstasy of my own release. Bowie’s name falls from my lips over and over as I work myself through my orgasm.
I hear him grunt out my name and know he’s found his own release. “Fuck, baby, that was good.”
“Uhmhum,” I mumble in my post orgasmic haze.
He lets out a triumphant laugh. “And to think, you said you could never get yourself off for me. That’s three nights in a row. Too shy my ass.”
Sex, even phone sex, is amazing with Bowie. Everything we do is new to me. Each time he touches me, calls my name, it’s like a whole new world has opened up to me. Marcus touched me during sex, but it was never for my benefit. I didn’t touch him; I didn’t want to and he never told me to, so I would lay there with my hands fisted by my side.
With Bowie, everything is different. He makes me feel comfortable in my sexuality. He guides me, without forcing me to do anything. I thought I could never recover from the trauma of Marcus, but Bowie shows me every day how things should really be between a man and a woman.
We’re both quiet for a few minutes while I’m lost in my thoughts of the past, before Bowie breaks the silence. “I miss you, Shay.”
His words come out strangled, as if he is admitting some deep dark secret. He’s been gone over two weeks now, and I miss him so much I can’t stand it. I have spent most of my time cleaning or cooking, doing anything to not think about his absence. “I miss you too, honey.”
“I like that.”
“What?” I ask.
“I like you calling me honey,” he says in a sleepy voice, and I can tell he’s about to end our nightly call.
Since the day Cash showed up, he has called me every morning and every night. The morning call is just to check in, remind me to keep myself safe. The nightly call is our play time. When he first told me he wanted me to touch myself, while he listened, I was shocked. After a little coaxing on his part, I gave it a try. For the last three nights, I’ve fallen asleep with a smile on my face.
“I gotta go, baby,” he says with a yawn. “I’ll call you before I ride out.”
I let out a yawn of my own, not even thinking about the words coming from my mouth. “Talk to you in the morning. Love you, Bowie.”