Playing It Safe

CHAPTER FOURTEEN


I’m dropped off first, thank God. Because if I had to listen to Sarah beg to be taken to IHOP one more time for French toast I was going to punch her in the face.

Why, you ask? I’m sexually frustrated beyond the point of reason, and not in the mood for company with the exception of one person, and that isn’t happening tonight.

“God, I’m such an idiot.”

There I go talking to myself again as I unlock the door to my house. This only serves to piss me off more since I was just starting to get a handle on that shit.

I toss my keys on the coffee table and walk to the kitchen, where I proceed to pour myself a glass of wine. Hopefully this will help to calm me down a bit before I head to bed alone. But it doesn’t help in the slightest. I’m still wound up so tight that if I shoved a piece of coal up my ass it would come out looking like a diamond.

Maybe some music will help me get my mind off things. I take my iPhone out of my purse and head for my bedroom. Once it’s docked in its speaker stand, I scroll through the stored music until I find something that I think will work. The beginning chords of John Legend’s “Save Room” begin, and I know I’ve made the right choice. I have to mention that one of the perks of living alone is being able to put on music at whatever time of day or night without being fearful that you’ll wake someone up in the next room. With that in mind, I start to sing along as I get undressed and ready for bed.

After I’ve finished brushing my teeth, I make quick work of going through my closet to pick out my clothes for work tomorrow. Once that’s done, I turn off all the lights and pull back the comforter to climb into bed. It’s cool against my skin, and I bring it up to my chin to snuggle with it while sinking farther into the mattress.


I lie there for a good half hour listening to music and staring up at the ceiling. What started out as a good idea is starting to annoy the hell out of me. So I lean over and pull the iPhone out of the docking station and leave it on my nightstand.

My legs are restless, and my mind is still playing over what happened in the bar tonight with Alex. It’s then that I decide to do the only thing that is going to get me to sleep tonight. I’ve been so good too, going cold turkey for a couple of weeks, but f*ck it, I need to unwind, and this is the only solution.

Leaning over once more, I open the drawer in my nightstand and pull out my vibrator. I’ve had this thing for a couple of years now after going to a sex toy party I was invited to by a colleague who shall remain nameless.

It was Lisette.

Like I wasn’t going to tell you who hosted the sex toy party.

As soon as I saw this thing and heard the name of it, I had to have it. It’s bright pink with a smiley face at the base. Just before the head, there is a bulbous part with a bunch of little colorful balls. They say it’s for maximum stimulation when it’s switched on, but to me it looks like a freaking gumball machine is about to f*ck me. There’s also this rubberish-looking claw that lines up with my *. When that part is turned on, I’m usually climaxing within twenty seconds, thirty if I’m lazy and decide not to turn it all the way up. The very best part is the name. It’s called the Wascally Wabbit. Can you believe that shit? Every time I come with this thing I want to say, “That’s all folks,” like Porky Pig at the end of a Looney Tunes cartoon.

I kick the comforter off of me and try to clear my head from all thoughts of Bugs Bunny and back to Alex. It isn’t very hard to do. Within seconds I’m already picturing him hovering over me, his mouth trailing down my throat until he finds my breasts. He begins the languorous task of sucking on my nipples with the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. After he’s paid enough attention to each one, he licks his way down to my belly button. His hands spread my legs farther so he can teasingly trace the outlines of my underwear with his finger. With one swift movement, his finger breaches the side of my panties and enters me slowly.

I need to get this show on the road because I’m sure I’ll break the Guinness Book of World Records tonight. I switch on the vibrator and go to remove my panties, but then my cell phone also starts to vibrate, scaring the living shit out of me. I’m so freaked out that I answer it without looking to see who it is first.

“Julia,” Alex says with an obvious smile that doesn’t help my libido.

I sit up straight in my bed, holding the phone in one hand and the vibrator in the other. “Why are you calling me so late?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure I didn’t wake you?”

In a huff, I answer, “Alex, I’m sure you didn’t wake me up. Care to tell me why you’re calling me so late though?”

“I felt bad about how we left things, and I wanted to …”

“Alex?” I ask, then pull the phone away from my ear to make sure we’re still connected. “Are you still there?”

“What’s that noise?”

Jesus Christ, the vibrator is still turned on. I switch it off quickly and hide it under the comforter like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“What noise?”

“There was a distinct humming sound, and now it’s gone,” he surmises like all of a sudden he’s Sherlock Holmes.

“Nope, no noise. I don’t hear a thing.”

“Julia,” he says in a warning tone. “What did I tell you about lying to me?”

“You said you’d spank me.”

Dammit, I know I sound way too excited and breathless, because he’s clearly enjoying it, judging by what he says next.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I answer truthfully and blame it all on the slight buzz that’s still lingering. “Yes.”

We both stay quiet for a second or two. I can’t deny that his sultry and assertive voice is working better on me than any Bugs Bunny vibrator ever could. I fall back onto the pillows and soak it in because as soon as we hang up I’m going to be picking up right where I left off.

“Were you doing what I think you were doing before I called you?” he asks seductively.

“What do you think I was doing?”

“If you were doing what I think you were doing, then I need you to keep going and not let me interrupt you.”

“Are you crazy?” I say with a throaty laugh.

“Julia, you’ve got me batshit crazy thinking about you all the time, but now … I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. I need to hear you.”

I bite my bottom lip and consider my options. One, hang up and get back to business. Or two, let him hear me get off over the phone. The Jeopardy theme music plays in my head until his velvety voice breaks me out of my thoughts, making my decision that much easier. Option number two it is.

“Were you thinking about me and what I would do to you?”

“Yes.”

“Christ,” he mumbles, and I giggle, thoroughly enjoying this new form of torture between us. “What are you wearing right now?”

I look down at myself in the near dark and decide that instead of making up some bullshit about wearing a corset or a teddy, I’ll tell him the truth. “I’m wearing a white tank top and a pair of black lace boy shorts.”

“Lose the tank top. Now.”

I tear it off of me as if it were on fire and toss it across my room before lying back down.

He chuckles at how quickly I get back on the phone. “Tell me what you look like now.”

“I’m only wearing the black lace boy shorts and lying down on my bed.”

“Are you under the blankets?”

“No.”

“Good girl,” he praises. “Now tell me what you were imagining I was doing to you before I called.”

God, this is weird and hot as hell.

“Don’t be shy, Julia.”

Tightly shutting my eyes, I take a big gulp, and in a throaty whisper I get right into it with him, describing in detail what I had been picturing in my head.

“I was imagining that you were on top of me. You were kissing and licking your way down from my mouth, stopping at my neck for a little while, then moving down to my breasts.”

“And then what did I do?” he coaxes softly.

“You were sucking my nipple and pinching the other one with your fingers.”

“Take your hands and pinch your nipples for me.”

“Okay.” I do exactly as I’m told. “Mmmm, that feels so good.”

“Fuuuuck,” he says, almost growling. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

The position of the phone cradled at my ear is messing with our little escapade. I’m going to have to put this thing on speaker so I can play along better.

“Hang on a second.”

“Wait, don’t you dare hang up on me!” he shouts. His voice is blasting through my speaker phone and right by my ear since I’ve put it to rest on my pillow.

“Relax, I’m not going anywhere,” I purr. “Needed to put my phone on speaker so my hands can be free.”

“Lick your fingers,” he instructs, wasting no time and diving back in. “Then pinch your nipples again for me.”

If there was an award for following directions, I’d win first place by a mile. With a resounding pop from the last finger that I lick, I start rolling each nipple between my forefinger and thumb until I moan into the darkness and my back arches off the bed.


“Does it feel good?”

“Yes. So good, Alex.”

“I’d lick and suck your tits until you f*cking begged me to stop, Julia.”

“I wouldn’t want you to stop. I’d want you to suck them harder.”

“Holy shit,” he mutters. “Pinch them harder.”

I’m squeezing the living shit out of my nipples to the point that I may not have any feeling left in them by the time all is said and done. But it’s worth it while I envision Alex’s mouth wrapped around one, his hooded eyes looking up at me while I writhe underneath him. Jesus, this is stupid good, and it’s making me even more ballsy than usual.

“Are you hard for me?” I ask in between moans.

“As a f*cking rock.”

“I want you to take your cock out and stroke it so I can hear you. And don’t make me beg.”

An abrupt rustle fills the air while I hear him moving and doing exactly as I’ve requested. I might climax solely on the visual currently dancing around my head of Alex touching himself, it’s that vivid and smoking hot.

“Now back to you,” he groans. “Slide your hands down and take your panties off.”

My hands follow his instructions to the tee. I hook my fingers inside the waistband while lifting my ass off the bed and removing my already soaked panties.

“Are they off?”

“Yes,” I answer.

His voice is becoming rougher, and it spurs me on even more. “Spread your legs and imagine me licking you,” he says.

“Mmmmm,” I moan, picturing his head between my legs. “I wish you were really here, Alex.”

“You like it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?” he says as his breathing becomes more labored.

“I love it.”

“Are you ready to come?”

“Are you?”

“F*ck yes,” he says with a small chuckle. “Touch yourself and tell me exactly how wet you are for me.”

I take two fingers, and they slide in and out so easily it’s almost embarrassing. “Drenched.”

“Christ.”

“Alex,” I beg, unashamed now because the need is too much. “I need to come.”

“Touch your * for me, Julia.”

I know the second that I flick the oversensitized piece of flesh I’ll probably be yelling so loud that I might wake the goddamn neighbors. But I don’t give a shit anymore. I need the relief. With a quick flick of my finger, I find the spot that will bring me that much closer to heaven. It takes all of five to six swipes before I’m moaning his name out loud and climaxing. I swear I think I see stars because what makes it even better is hearing Alex having an orgasm at the same time. God help me, it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

My throat is dry, and my heart is still beating wildly in my chest. Our breathing eventually returns to normal after a minute or two of complete silence. I pick the phone up off my pillow and turn off speaker phone. Bringing it up to my ear, all of a sudden I feel nervous, knowing that we’ve crossed into the big unknown and there is no going back.

“Are you still there?” His voice sounds more relaxed.

“I’m here.”

“Are you okay with—”

“With masturbating over the phone with you?” I ask.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it like that, but yes, since you put it that way.”

“It’s a little weird, but nothing about us has ever been normal. Why should this be any different?”

“Good point,” he laughs lazily.

My eyelids start to feel heavy, and I yawn into the phone due to the fact that my body is tuckered out from the release I’d been holding in for too long. Either that or I’m turning into a guy who rolls over and dozes off right after having sex.

“You’re tired,” he says. “I’ll let you go, but only if you promise me one thing.”

All I can muster is a barely intelligible mumble of noises that I think resemble a yes.

“Go out with me tomorrow night.” He pauses and then adds, “On a real date this time.”

“Okay.” I yawn again into the phone. The fight has left me; that’s how good this little phone sex session was. Do I want to delve in and psychoanalyze the shit out of this right now?

Nope, not at all.

“Wow, that was easy. You’re not going to fight me at all on this?”

“Hey,” I say, a tad more alert but still overly drowsy. “Don’t push your luck, mister. Take the yes and call it quits while you’re ahead.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes. “Good night, beautiful.”

I smile to myself in the dark at his parting words and bring the comforter up to my chin, ready to snuggle into it further. And as I drift off into dreamland, sprawled out and naked as the day I was born, I’m still smiling.