Colorado Game
By Androgene
Chapter 38
I looked down, frowning. I wasn’t wearing anything special, just a pair of old jeans and a clean shirt.
“Nothing special… jeans, shirt.”
“What kind of jeans? Color?”
“Stonewashed jeans, the one with the hole near my ankle.”
“The tight one… Mmm…”
“What are you doing?” I asked, a little uncomfortable, because the sound of that was very intimate.
“Nothing…yet. What shirt?”
“The flannel black and white blocked one,” I replied, almost whispering.
This was weird. My heart was beginning to thud like when he was near me and we were about to…
“What’s underneath?”
“Nothing.”
The sound he then gave was just plain horny.
“Open it. The shirt. Close your eyes and open it, imagine that it’s my hands doing it.”
I looked around, which was pretty ridiculous considering I knew I was alone. Then I closed my eyes and did as he asked.
“Slide your hand onto your smooth chest and find your nipple… rub it.”
I think I involuntarily moaned softly, but it could’ve been him.
“Are you…”
“Yes. I’m imagining that it’s your hand around my…”
The phone slipped out of my hand and I barely prevented it from falling to the floor, bringing it back to my ear quickly.
“…oing up and down slowly.”
Jesus… I was getting excited myself, hearing him whisper like that. Somehow, he sounded closer than when he’d actually be here doing it.
I closed my eyes again and opened a few more buttons, letting my hand roam over my chest and then down to my belly.
“It feels so good, your hand,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Yours too. It’s now on my belly…”
“Mmm… Go further down, slip it into your jeans...” His breathing was as intimate as when he was with me.
“I can’t, my jeans are too tight,” I sighed.
He softly chuckled and I grinned.
“Bastard,” he said. “Fine… my hand is going to the outside of your jeans, and presses down on your hard…”
That damn phone slipped away again. This time, I stuck it tightly between my ear and the cushion on which I put my head, scooting down a little.
“…sing my other hand to open the button.”
I did as he said, closing my eyes again.
“Now my hand slides inside, touching you.”
It was real enough. I palmed myself, and it wasn’t hard to imagine his hand doing it. I softly sighed.
“Wet your index finger and then touch your nipple with your other hand. Imagine that it’s my tongue,” Ross’s voice continued.
I did it and softly hissed.
“Yes, you like that, don’t you?” He asked softly. “I know you do.”
“Mmm, yeah.”
Now that I had both hands available, one stuck down my pants, the other following his directions, I wanted to do something back.
“Are you wet?” I asked, whispering.
“Yes,” he softly replied. “Very slick.”
“Use your thumb on it; that’s my…”
I almost flew up a foot from the couch when the clock struck nine.
“Jesus… shit, bugger, bug roll.”
On the other side of the world, Ross had a laughing fit, even going so far as to bury his face in the cushions, the muffled sound of it barely coming through.
“Oh my god,” he hiccupped, after about a minute, “that was the funniest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
I started to chuckle myself.
“I thought the roof was coming down,” I said, sighing. “I’m sorry…”
The moment was completely ruined, that much was clear.
“It’s okay. You know what? I should try and get some sleep, anyway.”
“Right… And I’m going smash that damn clock into a thousand pieces,” I replied, a little disappointed.
Ross snickered.
“I’m glad I’m not that clock, tonight. But how about tomorrow; same time?” he asked, a small hint of intimacy still in his voice.
“I’ll remove any interrupting items,” I said, rolling onto my stomach. “G’night, lover of mine.”
“You too, cute stuff. I love you.”
I pressed the disconnect button and eyed the clock.
Thanks to that thing, I had time to kill. It would be slow death.
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