“Yes, Master.”
“I’m licking my way down your body, paying attention to every part. Every part except where you want me the most,” I said. “I move my face to the inside of your left knee and kiss the tiny freckle you have there.”
I closed my eyes and pictured it in my head, a tiny little dot, just in the crease of her knee. “I kiss my way up your inner thigh, coming so close to your pussy, but right when you think I’m going to touch you there, I move and start back over with your right thigh. Do you feel me, my lovely? Feel my breath on your skin?”
She hummed in reply.
“Louder, Abigail,” I said. “Or else I’ll stop.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good,” I said. “On my next pass, I lightly brush the outside of your pussy. You’re wet, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Touch there. Gently,” I said. “Then taste yourself and tell me how you taste.”
“Slightly salty. A hint of musk and a note of sweetness.”
“You’re so sweet.” My voice dropped. “If I were there, you wouldn’t be able to taste yourself at all. I’d keep it all to myself.”
“It’s all for you anyway, Master,” she said, her voice just as low.
Fuck, yes, it is all for me. Mine and no one else’s.
“I think I’ve teased you enough,” I said. “Look under the bed on my side and take out the bag I left there.”
I waited while I heard her scramble off the bed, picturing the bag she’d find on the floor under our bed. The bed shifted as she climbed back on.
“I have it, Master,” she said.
“Open it,” I said, imagining the dildo I’d put in the bag before I left. She moaned when she found it. “Like it?” I asked.
“Oh, God, yes, Master.”
I smiled. “Good. Get on your back with your knees bent and spread. Pretend it’s my cock and suck on it for a few seconds.” I heard her movements from the other side of the phone. “Imagine me fucking your mouth and think about how good you’re going to feel when I slip out of your mouth and fuck that pussy.”
When I decided she’d had the dildo in her mouth long enough, I spoke again. “I’m moving down your body for the last time. Move the toy and pretend it’s me. Put it right at your entrance, because I’m going to tease you with my tip for a few minutes.”
I played with the tip of my cock, pretending she was in the room with me and I was teasing her.
“I’m entering you with just the tip,” I said. “Just the slightest movements of my hips, and you aren’t allowed to move yours at all.”
“Please, Master.”
“No,” I said. “Not yet. I feel you tremble beneath me. You want me so badly. I move my hips the tiniest bit more and slip a bit farther inside.” My hand stroked more of my cock, but not much. Not nearly what I needed. Not nearly what she needed. “What do you feel, Abigail?”
“You’re breathing into my ear,” she said. “I feel your muscles clench under my hands, because I’m holding your hips. Anchoring myself so I don’t move. I want you. I want you so badly to thrust into me. Please, Master.”
“Bounce the toy in and out of your pussy, fast and shallow,” I said. “I’m giving you a little friction, but denying you what you want for now.”
She groaned, but I heard her movements and I let her tease herself a bit longer.
“Now,” I said, stroking myself faster. “I’m thrusting a bit harder and deeper. Do you feel me?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Push my cock all the way inside now,” I said, grabbing myself tightly. “Come when you’re ready, but push it deep. I’m thrusting as hard and as deeply as I can.”
For the next few minutes we didn’t talk. I concentrated on my cock and the little whimpers of pleasure I heard from her side of the phone. Her breathing got faster and faster.
“Let me hear you. I’m not finished yet,” I said as my own climax built. “Let it out.”
“Oh, fuck, Master,” she panted, and I saw her in my mind, saw her working the dildo as hard as she could. “Oh.”
I lifted my hips off the bed in time with the thrusts of my hand and arched my back, imagining her under me. Just in time, I reached for the washcloth I had waiting and released into it.
From the sounds of Abby’s steady breathing, I could tell she’d had her own climax.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” she answered, her voice heavy with pleasure. “Thank you.”
“If I were there, I’d pull you to my chest, so I could hear your heart,” I said. “I’d pepper your skin with kisses and whisper in your ear how much I love you.”
“I love you, Master,” she said shyly.
My heart clenched at the knowledge that she wasn’t talking to Nathaniel, but her master. It wasn’t lost on me that this was the first time she’d said I love you that way.
“Abigail,” I whispered. “My love.”
For a time, we stayed as we were, content to have the phone line connecting us. I knew she’d had a long day, though, and that she was probably tired.
“I should let you sleep,” I finally said.
“I wish I could stay on the line with you all night and listen to you breathe.”
“Soon,” I said. “Soon. I’ll be home.”
“Not soon enough.”
We spoke quietly for a bit longer. When I heard her yawn, we said our good-byes and good nights and disconnected.
I propped myself up against the headboard and took a few deep breaths. I still wished Abby had been able to travel with me, but I understood and admired her for staying in New York to attend the conference. Besides, we’d have the rest of our lives to travel together.
Florida, I reminded myself. I needed to tell her about the Florida trip I had planned.
The phone sex with Abby had been incredible. Phone sex was not new to me, of course. Matter of fact, with my previous sub-missives, it was something I’d engaged in frequently when the urge struck during the week or if I wanted to reward them for something and I thought they’d enjoy it.
Mostly, though, it was just sex, and it amazed me how it was never just sex with Abby. Did it satisfy a need? Yes. Did it help fulfill her? Yes. But it was more than that.
Everything with Abby was always more.
But that didn’t frighten me the way it used to.
I glanced at the clock beside my bed. She’d be curled up in bed, trying to sleep now. I had only two more envelopes waiting for her to open the next day. The first one she’d open at nine thirty. It was her last writing assignment. Then at eleven, Elaina would be picking her up for Sunday brunch.
I thought ahead to the rest of the week. On Monday, I would have dinner delivered to the house for her. Sushi. With a little note reminding her how much it meant that she’d agreed to a sushi date so many months ago instead of beating the shit out of me like I deserved.
On Tuesday, she was going out after the conference with Felicia. Abby needed to have her address changed and Felicia needed to have her last name updated. It felt right, somehow, to have her sharing my address. I remembered the house being so full of life when I was a child, and I was delighted to feel that coming back.
I thought about the flower delivery I had set up on Tuesday. After she made it home, two dozen cream roses with just a hint of blush would be delivered along with a letter I’d written and given to the florist. Just a little note telling her how happy I was she shared my home.
Wednesday, right before I left a seemingly never-ending meeting for lunch, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. Abby and I often texted or talked right before lunch, so I excused myself from the conference room and went into the spare office I’d been using during my stay.