“As far as first sights of dicks go, you probably would. I’d love for you to taste me, just lick the head.”
“What if I want to taste some more?” I asked. “Don’t you want me to see if I can take more than just a little lick? Can I touch you all over? Can I taste your…your balls?”
“No,” he growled, “I want to be inside you. I want to feel your pussy around my dick, I want to feel it all wet and tight on me, break your hymen so I could get all the way inside you, take you properly, with your legs around my waist. I want to fuck you slow and deep until you come.”
I slipped a finger into my pussy, and it almost protested at something invading it, but I wanted to imagine it was Ryan, pushing into me. “Please, yes… I want to come.”
“Babe, I’m going to come too.” He sounded strained. “Where shall I come?”
“Stay in me,” I offered, thinking of what that would feel like, his cum shooting into me. My body exploded, and I gave a strangled cry as my juices flowed over my fingers and dampened my shorts. I distantly heard him grunt my name, then another deep, rather manly sigh.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fucking hell. Court? Are you still there?”
“Sort of,” I murmured. “Well, physically…mentally is another matter.” I laughed. “That was one cherry popped, and you didn’t even have to get on a plane.”
He gave a gentle laugh. “Enjoy yourself?”
“Very much so. I feel quite naughty. Never done that before.”
“You were just making it up to me. Using my photographs for blatant sexual purposes.”
I giggled. “Well, you put it up on a plate, Klark.”
He was quiet for a moment, while I simply enjoyed the dull throb of my body, the surface of my skin.
“Court?”
“Hey, you.”
“If anyone asks, you are my girlfriend. Okay? What you told me, what we just did…that means a hell of a lot to me.”
My heart gave a huge, crazy leap. “To me too.”
“Good. Are you okay? Are you tired?”
“Feeling quite sleepy.”
“It’s late, it’s one in the morning. Go to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
“Okay. Night, Ryan. Thank you.”
“No, thank
you
. Night, babe.”
From: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...
To: Courtney Phillips
[email protected]
...
Date: 15 May 2010
Re: You
We all went out tonight, and you’ll have to forgive me if nothing makes sense about this email, but there was beer and someone had Jack Daniel’s. I’m kinda pissed. No, I am pissed. And the whole night I was thinking, where’s Court tonight? How is she? What’s she wearing? Is she thinking about me? I want to be in your bed right now, I want to feel that juicy little arse of yours against my dick, your back against my chest, your beautiful breasts on my arm. God, you’re so fucking incredible and fuck it, I’m in love with you. Completely and utterly bewitched by you. Going to be sick now. Call you later. xxx Ryan
From: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...
To: Courtney Phillips
[email protected]
...
Date: 15 May 2010
Re: Erase the email
If you care at all about me you will delete the drunken piece of nonsense I sent you at three this morning. Beg. Ging. You.
From: Courtney Phillips
[email protected]
...
To: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...
Re: Computer says no
Date: 15 May 2010
I’m not deleting that email for anything! I know you’re embarrassed because you’ve given yourself away, but does it matter? You know it’s mutual though, don’t you? Although I thought we’d have the decency to not get rat arsed and say it in a badly typed email at three in the morning. I thought I’d wait until we were face to face. But that’s just me, the responsible one.
From: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...
To: Courtney Phillips
[email protected]
...
Date: 15 May 2010
Re: You are in trouble
When I see you, the first thing you’re getting is a spanking. Just for that email.
From: Courtney Phillips
[email protected]
...
To: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...
Re: Not sodding likely
Date: 16 May 2010
Stop being so mad. Call me later, please?
Xx Court the Sensible
* * *
16
th
May 2010
“Hello, George Best!” I said, feeling rather smug when Ryan identified himself.
“You know what,” he warned, “if I was in your room right now, you’d be over my knee, skirt over your head, and your knickers around your ankles so I could spank you good and hard.”
I burst out laughing. “I can’t help it if you’re a better writer when you’re pissed!”
“You’ve just added a paddle to your instruments of punishment.”
I tried not to laugh and failed miserably. “Oh come on! You’d be doing the dance of smug if I sent you an email like that at stupid o’clock before throwing up.”
“No, you would have called me and said,
Ryan, I’m so horny for you!
’”
“You know that would never happen,” I said airily.
He gave a chuckle. “There’s still time.”
“Did you mean it?” I asked hesitantly. “What you said?”
He became immediately cagey. “Well, you know, gets late, you miss someone, you talk pony…”
I plucked at my duvet, crossing my legs. “I miss you when I don’t hear from you. You know, like in the middle of the day.”
“Oh, so when you should be creating
Vogue
’s next big thing, you’re in the toilet feeling yourself up?”
“Your mind goes to dark places, Mr. Klark,” I told him off.
“You would though, if I asked you.”
Good thing he couldn’t see my face right now, because he was sooo right. “Ask me something now. And I’ll consider it.”
“Okay, tell me a fantasy.”
“What?”
“A fantasy, like the milkman comes over, or you haven’t got enough money for the bus and you’re convincing a taxi driver to take you home. You’re a French maid in an expensive hotel…”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“I have you running through my mind a lot.” He said it in such a careless, throwaway manner I couldn’t even begin to enjoy it. “So come on, what makes you flick the bean?”
“Ryan!” I gasped in indignation.
“I know you want to tell me.”
It took about ten minutes of him cajoling before I gave in. His reasoning? I'd email him about it anyway, so why not cut corners and tell him now.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Er… I’m in a different continent from you. On a telephone,” he reminded me.
I pouted. “Don’t be rude. I won’t do it otherwise.”
“Fine, fine, my controlling little darling. Eyes closed.”
I exhaled noisily. I closed my eyes myself and thought about the little fantasy that always crossed my mind whenever I did have time to myself.
“Okay, so I'm getting ready for a fashion show. I've been fitting models all day, and I'm finally on the last one. The work stations are just above the shop, on the main street. You can see people walking past from the windows.”
“Is this what you do all day? Take inside leg measurements from fake tanned models?”
“In my dream world, yes, I do,” I told him sternly. “It's a fantasy, remember?”
“Got it. Please tell me you're wearing something completely impractical?” His question had such a naughty lilt to it, I found myself grinning.
“A little blue sundress that reaches halfway down my thighs, if not a little bit shorter.”
“If you bent over, would I see underwear?”
I giggled. “Definitely.”
“Like it, carry on.”
“I'm fitting the last model; everyone else has gone home. It's just the two of us in the workroom. I've got to make the trousers fit, around the thighs, so I'm eye level with his crotch.”
“Are you touching yourself?”
I released the tie on one side of my hips. “Wait. Now I am.
I can see he's getting turned on, because his cock is pressing against the buttons.” In my head, the model is a slightly older version of Ryan, without the wetsuit on, but the trousers are low enough for me to see the “v” shape that cuts his lower torso and below the waist line. “I'm tempted, really tempted to lean forward and put my mouth on him, see what he'd feel like in my mouth. I stop myself because I don't know him. And I've got work to do. He tells me I'm far too stressed, and I should relax. I tell him I don't have time to relax. He starts taking the trousers off, forgetting that I've just pinned everything in place, but he doesn't seem to care. He says he wants to help me just calm down. He sits me on my work station,
spreading my legs.” I can envision my workroom, dark in the evening light, the distant sound of traffic, scraps of material over the floor, the model's skin starkly pale against my open thighs...
“What can he see?” Ryan asked me in a low voice.
“I'm wearing white cotton underwear. It has a little pink trim, and he touches it, and I can see him laughing in his eyes. He knows I'm wet.” I released another breath as my words sent a pulse straight to my pussy. I slid my fingers over myself and was slightly surprised by my own moistness.
“Don't stop,” Ryan demanded. “Carry on.”
My breath came out on a shake, while my eyes closed tighter. “He tells me to say out loud the letters he's going to draw over me. And he hooks my underwear to the side; his thumb brushes over my pussy as he spreads my lips and traces a letter right over my clit.”
“Holy fuck,” Ryan whispered.
“He has his hand on my thighs, keeping them apart so I can't close them against him. I can feel his mouth against me when he reminds me to say the letters out loud. He can't hear me, he says. I can't help myself. I like how his tongue feels on me, all wet and rough and hard. My pussy keeps pulling at empty air...”
Ryan growled, “It needs a cock, doesn't it?”
“Yes.” I sighed, rubbing faster, my clit trapped between two fingers. “I don't even know what I'm spelling, because I start to come, I can feel myself wetting my own panties, covering the model's chin... He stands up, and with two fingers hooked into my panties, he shoves his cock deep into me. Ahhh, he starts fucking me, he has one hand on the work station so he can do it harder. He leans into me so I have to taste my pussy on his tongue... I'm being fucked so hard by him, like he owns my cunt...”
“Fuck, Court, I want to own your cunt. I could fuck it as hard and deep as I like, spread your pussy lips wide and come deep inside you.”
My body convulsed, and I breathed Ryan's name as I came on my own fingers, my pussy clenching where Ryan's dick should have been. Finally the shudders stopped, and I noticed that I was still clutching the phone in one hand. “Ry? Are you okay?”
He was breathing heavily, as if he'd just finished running. “Yeah, I think so. Finish the story, babe.”
“Once the model has come inside me, he, er...puts my underwear back on properly to hold the cum inside. He says he'll be happy to help me relax any time I like.”
I tucked the phone between my ear and my shoulder to fix my underwear. I really hoped no one heard me—I didn't seem to have a volume dial when it came to touching myself with Ryan on the phone.
“That was so fucking sexy, you’ll give me a heart attack.”
I giggled, embarrassed and sort of proud as well. “Serves you right for being old.”
“Jesus Christ, I’m still hard.”
His exclamation made me laugh. “Sorry!”
“Don’t be. You just lost another cherry.”
My body trembled at the thought of him taking the last one. “Just one more left?”
“Dreaming about that every damn night.”
I looked at the clock. It was one in the morning again. “I need to go to sleep, Ry.”
“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. Night, babe.”
“Sleep well.”
“Believe me, after that I really will!”
***
From: Courtney Phillips
[email protected]
...
To: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...
Date: 17 May 2010
Re: Better now?
Did that make up for our little email spat?
From: Ryan Klark
[email protected]
...