Kinktober Day 25
Kinktober Masterlist
Pairing: Dana Evans x Reader
Warnings: Mommy kink; phone sex; masturbation; oral sex (female receiving) ; clit play; partially-clothed sex
Summary: “I’d had a couple’a glasses of wine.”
You had heard that before—the excuse that had chased the two of you into separate ubers moments after Dana had taken hold of your face, swept your cheeks with her thumbs, and stared at your lips for far longer than could be deemed strictly platonic.
“Why’d you call, kid?”
Her warm little murmur over your phone speaker tells you that the jig is up, that you’re beyond playing pleasantries.
She’s giving you the chance to back down, to keep your promise to the both of you to find a new way to relax.
You can keep that promise—know that if you have any hope of telling Dana that you just wanted to chat, that you’re heading to bed, that you’ll see her in the morning.
But—
“I’m waiting.”
But—Fuck.
You know better.
You know better than to ask if she’s alone, because she never takes your calls when anyone else is around.
You know better than to reach down and slide your fingers along your panties, and to chase the pressure.
You know better, but—
“I need your help,” You mumble.
Dana tuts on the other end, and your eyes slip closed on instinct.
“Tell me what you need, baby.”
“I—” Your breath stalls, hips hitching up slightly on the upward stroke of your fingertips. “I need to cum, Mommy.”
–
Your calls weren’t always like this. They started as a point of contact for your virtual mentorship program. In the thick of the pandemic, you had been assigned to meet virtually with Dana. You crossed paths often, PPE laden in the Pit, but with the influx of patients and the increased safety measures, there wasn’t exactly an easier avenue for your mentorship offline.
Emails weren’t convenient for Dana—
“My youngest has commandeered my laptop for her coursework since everything’s online now—And besides, I’m old-school.”
It was your first phone call, and while you heard Dana’s voice on the daily at the Pitt, it was different on the phone.
There was less of an edge to her tone; weariness where urgency often sat when she spoke to you on-shift.
Calls became routine: biweekly, and then weekly, and then daily.
The conversations were never just limited to work, even when you tried to keep them that way for the first few. You’d been hiding your mounting fear of the pandemic ramping up. But as hard as you’d tried, Dana didn’t let you hide. Bit by bit, she broke your walls down until you were sobbing and spilling your panic to her on the line.
You’d fallen into quiet embarrassment, trying to scrounge up an apology and gather yourself, but she’d responded in kind. You just listened—as Dana reassured you, and shared her fears, her concerns, her struggles.
You couldn’t keep a thing from her after that.
No matter how awkward it was, how embarrassing the topic, how badly you would trip over your words with someone else, everything was so easy with Dana, and remained so as restrictions had loosened, and the two of you were able to hang out in-person.
Well—it was easy most of the time.
There had been one instance, one. A moment when the two of you had been alone in uncharacteristic quiet: in a parking lot after a couple too many glasses of wine at the Christmas party, with her hands on your cheeks, her eyes lingering on your lips—
It had been enough to bubble up butterflies in your belly, to make you reconsider what you knew about Dana, and what you knew about yourself.
It was only made worse when she called you out of the blue one night.
You were sort of indisposed—half-undressed, in bed, scrolling as you looked for porn to watch with one hand, and absently teasing your clit with your other hand.
The sound of a woman’s moaning was flowing through your headphones when it was suddenly replaced with Dana’s ringtone. Her face popped up on your screen along with the accept and decline buttons. You hit accept on instinct, but realized immediately that it was a mistake. The call cut in with the underscore of the damn woman’s moans on the video.
You fumbled with your phone, heart pounding as you swiped the phone away from the call.
“You okay over there, kid?”
“Uh—” You swiped the internet app closed, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, I’m—I, uh,” You cleared your throat as you laid back. “I just dropped my phone. Your call startled me.”
“Aw, sorry. Should’ve texted to see if you were free.”
“No, it’s okay! How was work?”
“Eh, fine, you know. The usual. You get up to much on your day off?”
“Nope, just rotted.”
“Well that doesn’t bode well for the answer to my next question.”
“What’s that?”
“How was the date?”
Oh. That. You winced at the reminder.
“I um…I may not have gotten to it.”
“You’re killin’ me, kid.”
“I know, I know. I just couldn’t get myself to go. I don’t wanna go through the whole ‘what do you do,’ ‘do you like it,’ ‘do you have siblings,’ blah blah blah. I wanna be in a relationship but I don’t want the hassle of getting into one, you know.”
“I know. But you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.”
You didn’t answer for a moment, just drew in a deep breath, your hand scrubbing across your eyes.
“You’ll find someone, hon,” Dana offered softly.
“Yeah…It’s not just the companionship, it’s…It’s the intimacy. I miss being touched.”
“How long’s it been?”
“Long time.”
“It's not the same, but you can always get off.”
Your mind flitted to the last hour spent on your couch, to your fingers almost absently toying with your clit.
“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t feel like it’s been really doing the job now, kinda like I’m doing it just to have something to do.”
“Maybe you have to switch up how you do it. Have you tried lately?”
Your lips parted, but the words just wouldn’t come out. There was a pause on the end of the phone before Dana added, “What were you doing when I called you?”
You groaned guiltily, but Dana just laughed.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your sesh. Why’d you answer?”
“Instinct?”
“Aww,” Dana murmured, “You’re sweet.”
Your clit throbbed. Your clitoris, that traitorous little bundle of nerves, fucking throbbed at Dana’s voice. A soft hum slipped out of you, a whimper threatening to chase it. You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut and praying that she didn’t hear that. There was another moment of quiet on her side before she asked, “What category?”
You could throw the white flag, tell Dana that this was a bridge too far, tease that you had to have some secrets.
But something in Dana’s tone, something warm and soft and curious, told you that the question was asked differently than her teasing from just a moment ago.
“Blonde lesbian milf.”
It was two-thirds of a lie—you’d only searched milf. But you found yourself wanting to leave as little doubt in Dana’s mind as you could. She let out an interested little hum.
“Find anything good?”
“Nn-nn.”
“Really? Seems like it’d be a popular category.”
“Oh, it is, but….I don’t know. None of the voices are right?”
“What should they sound like?”
“Husky and soft, and warm…” You pushed yourself back against your pillows, nervously squeezing your thighs together. “But sometimes it’s the girls they’re with, too.”
“Oh yeah? What’d they do wrong?”
“I—” You stumbled over your words as you realized that you’d begun rolling your hips.
“Use your words, baby.”
Your breath punched out of your chest, cunt pulsing.
“They don’t, um—They don’t say ‘mommy’ enough.”
“You like it when they say that, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“Do you like saying it, baby?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Your eyes squeezed closed, breath shuddering as your fingers sliding between your thighs.
“Yes, mommy.”
--
The first time had been embarrassingly fast. Three soft murmurs from Dana had you dipping your fingers beneath your panties to smooth over your wet pussy. Another two murmurs, your hips were jolting as you sank two fingers in.
And one throaty chuckle and murmur of, “Needy little slut, skipping ahead,” Had you arching off of the bed, failing to bite back a moan as you rode out your orgasm.
--
It had been impossible to meet her eye during the next shift, unable to push back the memory of her voice, that husky murmur urging you on.
You stared anxiously at your phone that night. Dana didn’t call until almost half past one. You answered as automatically as you had the night before. For a testy moment, neither of you spoke. You finally managed,
“What the fuck was Frank thinking, having three cans of Monster in an hour?”
Dana’s laugh calmed you as it came through the phone.
“God, I know. The boy’s heart’s gonna be shot by the time he’s 45.”
It felt normal again for a bit, but in a lull, you mumbled, “‘m sorry.”
You heard Dana draw in a deep breath, heard her shift on the other side.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you—”
“You didn’t—”
“—About the dating thing. That’s how we got into that whole…You know.”
“...I guess,” You conceded.
“Anyway,” Dana went on, “I’d had a couple’a glasses of wine.”
You had heard that before—the excuse that had chased the two of you into separate ubers moments after Dana had taken hold of your face, swept your cheeks with her thumbs, and stared at your lips for far longer than could be deemed strictly platonic.
“Like Christmas?”
It just slipped out of you. You held for a long breath…Two…Three—
“Yeah,” She finally agreed, “Like Christmas.”
“You have a couple tonight?”
“No.”
“...Are you alone?”
You knew that you shouldn’t be asking—you were actively piloting the Titanic II into an iceberg, but—
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Yeah, I’m alone.”
It was like you could feel a switch being flipped.
“Are you?” She tacked on.
“Are you kidding?”
“Right,” She chuckled, “Kinda what got us there in the first place.”
“Mhm.”
“...You need it again already, huh?”
Half admonishment and half amusement had your thighs squeezing together.
“I might.”
“Really?”
“Just a little.”
“You waited up until 1:30 for me to call for ‘just a little’?”
“I—I didn’t wait up—”
“Oh yeah?”
“Dana?”
She tutted, and your eyes slipped shut.
“Try again,” She ordered.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Do I want to?” She scoffed softly, “Baby, you don’t know half the things I want to do to you.”
You squirmed, closing your eyes.
“Like what?”
--
“You—Are you—?”
“I’m still here,” She soothed as you tried to get your head back together, your fingers slipping across your slick skin.
“But did you?”
“Did I what, baby?”
Your pussy gave another little pulse at the endearment.
“Can I…Can I get you off, too?” And, before you could help yourself—“Please?”
Your heart plummeted as she answered, “Maybe next time, baby.”
--
It’s been six goddamn months of “Maybe next time, baby.”
You truly never know if she gets off when you call, or after she gets off the phone with you. If she fingers herself before she falls asleep, or uses a detachable showerhead to get herself off before you see her at work.
Or maybe she is…Humoring you. Maybe it was a tease that became a chore, or a routine.
Whatever it is, it’s palpable enough that it’s practically another passenger in the car with the two of you the following month.
The car is too quiet.
You haven’t had occasion to be alone with Dana for a long time, not since before the calls started—but you’ve dropped off Cassie and Princess off at their respective homes twenty minutes ago. Dana has driven you back to your place, parked the car.
But neither of you have moved, and neither of you have spoken, and the car is too fucking quiet.
You don’t dare look directly at her, just eye her hands where they rest on the wheel. You love her hands—ready to reassure, to lead, and guide…You can’t count the number of times you’ve gotten off to the thought of them sliding over your body, caressing you, stroking you.
You slide your hand across the console slowly, sweeping your pinky against her thigh. You hear her push a soft laugh through her nose before her hand smooths over to yours, sweeping her fingers over the back of your hand. You bite your lip, turning your hand over beneath hers and teasing your nails along her palm.
The car is still too fucking quiet.
There’s hardly a whisper of her sleeve against the console as she returns your touch in kind. You’re positive she can hear your heart pounding out of your chest. You smooth your hand a little further up, over her thigh. Her hand slides along your wrist as you do, settling on your forearm.
“Can I?” You ask.
“Can you what?”
You can still turn back. You can take your hand away, apologize, get out of the fucking car. You can change course.
You lift your hand away from her, undoing your seatbelt and shrugging out of it. But rather than reaching for the door handle, you turned toward her and leaned closer, dipping your hand between her thighs.
“You told me I could help you next time.”
“Kid—”
“You’ve said it for six fucking months—”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Dana,” You plead, fingers flexing against her jeans.
“...You know that’s not what you call me.”
You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as you try to gather your courage.
“I don’t—”
“You don’t?” She scoffs, and before you can so much as blink, she’s taking hold of your jaw and forcing your focus. Your breath catches in your throat as she keeps a tight hold on you, her eyes set on yours. “You’ve moaned it. You've screamed it. You say it every fucking night with your fingers buried in your pussy, pretending they’re mine.”
Your mouth falls open, eyelashes fluttering at the reminder. Dana’s eyes sweep across your face, lowering to your mouth and lingering there.
“I wanna hear it,” She orders.
“N-Now?”
She laughs, a hot, cruel sound. “You’re grabbing my thigh, you’re offering to get me off, but you can’t say it?”
“But I—”
“You just can’t help yourself. You tell me every night that you’re not gonna do it anymore, and then you call—”
“You call me, too—”
“Whimpering on the other side of the phone like a fucking puppy, whining and begging.”
“Please let me make you cum, mommy.”
The words punch out of you, lower lip wobbling with desperation. Dana pushes out a harsh sigh, mutters, “Shit. Why do you have to look so fucking good when you say it?”
--
Dana’s hardly got your door shut behind her before you’re dropping to your knees, hands sliding greedily up her thighs as you wait for her to give you the go-ahead. She nods, and you’re tugging her pants down, surging up, and pressing your face between her thighs.
You hear her moan, feel her hand rest on the crown of your head as she widens her stance slightly, as much as the pants still around her thighs will allow. You suck her clit between your lips, the pubes on her mound tickling your nose. You let your mouth fall open, lapping across her lips as you breathe her in, taking in the salty musk of her skin.
“Jesus, kid,” Dana mumbles, “If I’d known you were this fucking hungry for it, I would’ve let you do this months ago—Fuck,” Her voice breaks a little, hips twitching as your tongue drags lower, teasing against her slickening core. “That’s it, that’s my good girl…Oh, you’re being so fucking good for mommy.”
You whimper against her, lowering your fingers to tease against your aching pussy through the fabric of your leggings.
“Making up for being such a little brat in the car? Yeah,” She sighs, lifting her hand to paw at her breasts through her top. “I’ll have to remember this when you’re getting on Robby’s last nerve in the ED. My girl just needs the right motivation, doesn’t she? Yeah, you can be so—so good, so fucking good, just like that, sweet girl.”
You tip your head up, resting your chin against her thigh as you swipe your fingertips against her clit. Dana’s tongue swipes over her mouth before she’s bending over you, pressing her lips to yours. You whine against her mouth, parting your lips for her tongue.
“C’mon,” She straightens up, using her hand to guide you back between her legs. You press back in without hesitation, keeping your fingers on her clit as you eat her dripping cunt messily. You can feel her thighs tensing, hear the way her breathing is picking up, murmurs of, “Like that, like that—Fuck, that’s my girl, that’s it, oh!”Her moan cuts off as she raises a hand, biting down on her knuckles as her hips bound against your fingers and tongue. You work her through it, slowing to kittenish licks as she trembles for you. You sigh softly as she pulls her pants up and slides down against the door, lowering herself to sit on the floor.
“C’mere,” She mumbles, nodding you closer. You crawl to her, cuddling against her as her arms circle you.
“Thank you, mommy."
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