dreamer
Slave
Registration Date: 06-27-2006
Posts: 179
Mistress Or Master Or Slave: Slave
Level: 38 [?]
Experience: 1,226,597
Next Level: 1,460,206
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The phone rings and everything stops. I knew he would call tonight. I knew he'd call at this precise moment, but still it takes my breath. I listen, one time, then four, then ten, he knows I'm here. He knows. I tire of the ringing and pick up the receiver, not saying anything, what is there to say?
My hand lies idle now between my legs. I can still feel my juices on my fingers. My knees still bent beneath the covers, forming a wide misshapen tent in the middle of my king-size bed.
I'm panting, he knew I would be. He listens to my panting and I think once again how it should be the other way around. He called me, shouldn't he be doing the deep breathing? Isn't that how it goes? I can't even here him breathe, sometimes I wonder if he does.
He waits for the silence. I wait in silence, listening only to the sound of my heartbeat drumming inside of my head and my breathing. We wait together, for the ritual to begin. It used to scare me. There would be nights where I lay waiting, dreading this moment. That was long ago though. Now I simply wait.
"I'm watching."
The words run over each inch of my body, raising each tiny hair. My blood turns icy and the words echo throughout my brain. No matter how many times he says it, those two words, spoken the same each time- definite, cold, with no inflection of emotion, cause the same reaction.
My mind reaches back to when I used to scream and cuss him, beg and plead for him to go away. Only to be met with cold silence. The constant phone number changes. The police searches. Moving across town. Across state. Across the country.
Still he watches. Still he calls.
I close my eyes and try to recall what had gotten me so turned on in the first place. The sexy new neighbor down the hall in 25-C. We'd met in the elevator tonight and chatted briefly. I had climbed into bed still thinking of him and what I should have said. As I recreated the whole episode in my mind my fingers circled my clit slowly. This time we were having sex in the elevator stopped between floors. He'd been just about to shove his cock inside me when the phone rang.
And so it begins.
I listen closely, holding my breath, for any sound from the other end of the phone. As always, there's nothing. Sometimes that scares me more, the total lack of noise. In my own apartment I can hear the refrigerator running. The clock ticking in the hall. The hiss of the heat from the vents. On his end- nothing.
My tongue runs over my dry lips as I try again to work up the image of my neighbor in my head. Slowly it comes back to me and I try to lose myself to the fantasy again, yet knowing that he is listening, watching.
My fingers, still damp from earlier, move to my breasts and I circle the dark nipples idly. It never fails to surprise me how quickly they wrinkle up and perk to the sky. Within minutes they feel like hard pencil erasers and rolling them between my thumbs and forefingers causes a deep heat within my stomach. A low moan escapes from me and I blush, knowing that he has heard my excitement.
My right hand creeps under the covers to caress my moistened lips. I run my middle finger lightly over my pouty lips feeling the excitement on them. Softly, I run an unhurried finger between my lips up to my clit. My hips follow the motions of my finger, my body wants more, yet I love the anticipation of this time.
"Uncover yourself."
His voice, so close in my ear shocks me and reminds me yet again, that though I cannot see him- He can see me. "How?" My mind cries out. How do you see me? It's no use asking him, I have asked before with no reply. I sigh and pull the covers off of me.
The cold air hits my warm body in a rush, tightening my already hard nipples and sending shivers over my skin. The smell of my sex fills the room and I am glad that he at least can't smell me. My erotic smell is mine alone, it's the only thing I have to hold against me that he cannot steal. The warm musky scent fills my senses and pushes me closer to the edge of fulfillment.
With a deeper sense of urgency my fingers run over my clit. Tapping ever so softly against the hard fold with my right hand, my fingers on my left hand begin the journey inside my sex. One finger slowly, in and out of my hot sex, then two. My hips arch to meet the probing, driving my fingers deeper within me. Capturing my clit between two fingers, I pinch the sensitive spot. Pulling and pinching, fucking myself with my fingers, I drive myself over the edge and fall shattering into a thousand pieces into oblivion.
I lay quietly amid the after shocks. Wondering how loud I'd become during. Hoping against hope I hadn't called out as I usually do, knowing that I probably did since it seems so quiet now. I realize that I'd lost track of the phone in my excitement and bring it to my ear.
"I love you."
"I hate you." I say as the tears run down my face and I wonder if it's him or me I'm talking to.
I hear his laughter before he hangs up the phone.
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The Call
