Brando: Part Two (Brando, #2)

I listen to her breathe for a moment more and then take the plunge, keeping my voice strong and steady to keep her in the game.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.” I’m not asking— this is a demand. But one that’s as respectful as I can make it sound. Because right now she can either hang up on this call or stay on the line and see just how far we can take each other. I wait.

She’s got the phone so close to her mouth I can hear the gentle wetness of her lips as they part, the soft smack of her tongue in her mouth. I can almost visualize her red lips, open and round as she struggles to control her breathing.

“I’m wearing…a pink tank top…”

“How’s it fit?” I prompt her.

“Um. It’s tight…”

“Anything underneath?”

“No bra.”

“Good girl,” I say, and I hear her hiss a little.

“Touch your tits, and tell me how they feel. Go easy.”

“They’re…” She shifts the phone, and my mind goes crazy imagining what she’s doing to herself. “Big, but not too big. A little bigger than a handful…”

“Slowly…”

“The skin is real soft…smooth…just firm enough that they’ve got a good shape, just soft enough for you to have fun playing with them…” She stops to giggle nervously. “Am I doing this right?”

“Shh. Touch your nipples…roll your finger around them…squeeze them…” I hear her inhale sharply.

“Holy shit…” she murmurs. Her arousal is like a lightning bolt to my cock.

“What else are you wearing?” I go on.

“A pair of tight, black leggings.”

“Good,” I growl with approval. “You lying down?”

“Yeah.” I hear a rustling sound. “I am now.”

“Put your hand down there.”

Her response is immediate, a small gasp. “Fuck…I’m so…”

“That’s a good thing. Just go with it. Now close your eyes…”

“Ok…”

“Squeeze your hand between your thighs…”

“Yes…”

“That’s where I wanna be. Smelling you. Tasting you. Devouring you,” I whisper, with just enough authority in my voice to let her know how much I mean it. My hand’s fully in my boxers now, releasing my cock, which is so stiff even the tightness of my designer underwear can’t strangle it.

“Fuck…” she pants, and then I hear her gasping for air like she just ran a marathon. “Stop…stop. This is way too much, way too early for me.”

Damn. Game over, and my dick is still hard enough to cut diamonds with. “Ok, yeah. We can take a break. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…nothing’s wrong. That’s kinda the problem.”

“You’re gonna have to explain that to me.”

“I don’t know anything about you. And here I am fucking…wet…just from the sound of your voice.”

I take a second to absorb her words, but they’re not adding up yet. “Ok? I still don’t see where the problem is.” I laugh, trying to put her at ease again.

“I literally just got out of a relationship – like yesterday.”

Though my hand’s still on my cock, even I can’t jerk it to relationship talk. She’s feeling guilty, that’s what it is. I can fix that.

“Exactly. Yesterday – not today. Not now. Right now you’re a single woman who’s looking for some intimacy, and I’m a single man looking for a night of distraction. That’s it.”

She pauses, and I hope she’s getting back in the zone. “Still, it’s…”

“You’re rationalizing this, but I know for a fact your body’s telling you something different,” I soothe. “We’re both consenting adults, right? Come out and meet me.”

I don’t want to push her too hard, but there’s something in her voice that’s practically begging me to take her out of her comfort zone and give her a night she’ll never forget.

I tuck my cock back in my pants and get up from the couch.

“I…” She hesitates, still breathing hard. “I want to, but I can’t…”

“Take a shower and come and meet me at my place. I live in the hills. Trust me, you’re gonna love it. If not, you can turn around and go home. No harm, no foul.”

She giggles a little, and I can still hear how her nerves are unsteady.

“This is…so unlike me.”

I start making my way around the den, picking up the empty bottles that I’ve left around there throughout the day. I’ve made up my mind: this is the girl I’m going to fuck tonight, even if I have to clean up to do it.

“It’s pretty out of character for me too, which is why it’ll be perfect.” It’s partially true, at least. I’ve never had one of these booty-callers come directly to my house before. But for some reason I trust this girl.

“This is crazy…”

“Come on. If I can make you wet with my voice, just imagine what I can do with my hands. I can be gentle, too.”

She laughs again. The anxiety falling away piece by piece. I know she’s not trying to play hard to get, but I have to admit I’m kind of enjoying the chase.

“And what happens, exactly? We fuck, and then, bye?”

“Put a little emphasis on the fucking part.”

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