The neon lights of the club are still burning behind my eyelids as I stumble into my dark bedroom, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind me. My head is spinning from the tequila, a breathless, slightly pathetic laugh escaping me as I kick off my heels and let them clatter against the hardwood. The room is freezing, way too quiet after the suffocating chaos of the bachelorette party. A raw, hollow ache settles deep in my chest, a desperate loneliness that makes my skin feel hyper-sensitive, completely exposed.
I don't just want you. I am agonizingly starved for you.
My trembling fingers fumble with my phone, pulling up your contact as a tear of pure frustration blurs my vision. It rings twice, every second feeling like torture, before the line connects. Your deep, gravelly voice cuts through the silence, and my entire body sags with relief.
"It’s three in the morning. Are you home?"
"I'm home," I slurry slightly, my voice breaking as I slide my back down the wall, sinking to the floor. "But my bed is so empty, and I miss you. God, I miss you so fucking much."
There’s a heavy pause on the line, the rustle of sheets as you sit up, your breathing instantly dropping into a darker, thicker rhythm. "You’re drunk, vixen. How much did you drink?"
"Too much," I whimper, my hands already moving to the zipper of my tight dress. I tug it down, peeling the fabric away until it pools around my waist. I step out of it, shivering in nothing but the sheer black lace bra and matching thong you love. "I’m taking my clothes off right now, but it feels wrong because it’s not your hands doing it. I need your hands on me."
A low growl vibrates through the speaker, heavy with an intense, possessive hunger. "Tell me what you’re wearing."
"Just the lace," I pant, finally gathering the strength to stumble over to the bed, crawling onto the mattress. The cool sheets touch my bare skin, making my nipples harden instantly into tight peaks. "I'm touching my breasts, closing my eyes, and imagining your mouth. Please, talk to me. Tell me how you'd take me if you were here."
You let out a heavy, ragged breath, all your dominant restraint completely shattering. "If I were there, I’d throw you across that mattress, pin your wrists, and rip that lace right off your body. I want you to slide your hand down between your legs right now. Do it for me, baby. Touch yourself for me."
I let out a soft, broken moan, my fingers slipping beneath the elastic of my thong. I am already dripping wet, slick and weeping with a frantic, aching desire. "I'm doing it... I'm rubbing my clit. I'm so incredibly wet for you, it's sliding down my fingers."
"Good. Let me hear every single sound," you command, your voice dropping an octave, thick and authoritative. "Lean into it. Imagine it’s my fingers stretching you open, tasting you until you're completely ruined."
I gasp, my thumb moving in fast, heavy circles against my hyper-sensitive, swollen core while holding the phone tight against my ear. The squelch of my own juices is loud in the quiet room, and I hear your breath catch on the other end, followed by the distinct, heavy friction of your own hand gripping your hard cock. You're stroking yourself to the sound of my desperation.
"You're hard for me, aren't you?" I whimper, my hips bucking off the bed as the pleasure spirals out of control, fueled by how much I crave your touch. "Tell me you want me."
"I'm throbbing. I'm so fucking hard for you it’s agonizing," you growl, your breathing turning into ragged pants as you pick up the pace. "I want you to take two fingers and push them inside you. Right now. Fuck yourself while you listen to my voice."
I slide two fingers deep into my dripping, tight channel, a loud, uninhibited scream tearing from my throat as I stretch myself open. My tight walls clamp down around my fingers, pulsing instantly, my mind completely short-circuiting from the intoxicating mix of the alcohol and the raw lust echoing from the speaker.
"Yes! Just like that, cry my name," you dark-whisper, your own movements on the other end becoming frantic, desperate, and heavy. "Don't you dare stop. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me hear you break."
The internal pressure snaps. A violent, shattering orgasm fractures my mind, my core convulsing in tight, crushing spasms around my fingers. I sob into the phone, my body shaking violently as the white-hot waves of pleasure rip through my pelvis, my voice crying out your name over and over into the empty room.
The sound of my broken, messy release pushes you straight over the edge. With a loud, guttural moan that vibrates violently through the speaker, your breathing hitches, a heavy, breathless groan escaping your chest as you release your own thick, burning come - spilling it way too far away from me, yet completely bound to my soul.
