I let out a little moan as I ran my finger over my breast at his words.
“You touching yourself, Lily?” he asked hoarsely.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered.
“Where?” he demanded.
I couldn’t do it. Even with residual alcohol running through my system, I couldn’t verbalize this.
“Is it your nipple? Your beautiful breasts? Pinch those nipples for me, Lily,” he instructed.
I did as I was told, breathing heavily into the phone.
“Is that good, baby?” he asked in a rough voice.
Arousal superseded my embarrassment. “Yes,” I breathed the word.
“If I were there I’d close my mouth over those delicious peaks,” he declared. “I want you to touch your pussy, Lily. It’ll be wet for me,” he continued in a voice thick with desire.
I didn’t hesitate, my hand moved into the waistband of my jeans, touching my soaking panties.
“You’re wet, aren’t you, flower?” he rasped into the phone. “For me.”
“For you,” I repeated, my breath coming in pants.
“That pretty pussy’s all for me. For me to use my mouth on. Taste you. That’s what I’d do to you, flower. What I’m gonna do. For now, I want you to rub your clit, make yourself come. Let me hear it,” he demanded.
I rubbed like he told me to, the fire in my belly growing into an inferno.
“Are you…?” I choked out.
“Yeah, baby,” he responded. “I’m rubbing my cock thinking of you touching yourself for me,” he grunted.
That’s what did it. The vision of him lying there, doing that to himself, thinking of me. I exploded into a million pieces, crying out Asher’s name as I shuddered through my release. As I was coming down from my beautiful climax, I heard the unmistakable sounds of Asher’s own release. It was one of the most erotic things I’d ever heard.
I lay there for a moment, breathless and silent. Asher the same.
“That was….”
“Amazing,” Asher finished for me. “You’re amazing, Lily,” he murmured, his voice tight.
I stared at the ceiling taking in what had just happened.
Asher didn’t seem to mind my silence. “It’s late, Lily. Get some sleep,” he told me.
I wasn’t ready to lose him yet. I was exhausted, which meant my defenses were down. I didn’t filter my thoughts or my words.
“Will you stay?” I asked quickly. “While I go to sleep?”
“Yeah, flower,” Asher replied in a soft voice. “Sleep,” he commanded.
And with my hand cradling the phone, curled on the sofa, Asher silent at the other end, I did just that.
One Week Later
“Do you know where we are?” I mumbled up at the stars. My gaze moved to the outdoor patio area to my left which had a lot of people milling around, drinking, dancing, laughing. I didn’t know a soul, apart from the person lying beside me.
Bex didn’t move her gaze from the sky. “At a party,” she replied dreamily.
I turned my head, regarding her profile. “But whose party?” I probed, the details lost in my muddled head.
I watched one of her brows furrow. “Jack’s, or Jason’s or Sylvia’s. Fuck if I know,” she replied casually.
Usual Lily, sober Lily, would have most likely freaked out about this, or gone into a mild panic attack, but this was not sober Lily. I had discovered the beauty of alcohol and what it did to my shyness, my emotions. Numbed them, kept the big sadness at bay. It was awesome. A phone ringing jolted me out of my drunken, yet calm reverie. It stopped then started again. It was coming from somewhere nearby. I moved my head.
“That’s your phone, Bex,” I pointed out.
She acted like she hadn’t heard me, then jumped abruptly. “Shit,” she muttered. “Yo,” she called into the phone.
There was a pause.
“Oh fuck, sorry, I completely blanked. I’ll be there in,” she glanced down at her watchless hand, “about twenty minutes?” She finished, the question in her voice most likely due to the fact that she had no idea where we were.
She sat up after she hung up and glanced over at me with a vacant gaze. “We’ve gotta bounce, babe,” she instructed.
I squinted at her. “What? Why?”
I was quite happy in my current position, watching the sky, listening to the sounds of strangers having a good time, pretending that I was someone else.
She yanked on my arm and I reluctantly moved.
“Because,” she said, standing. “I was meant to be at work, like an hour ago. And I need my job ‘cause I need to eat and more importantly, buy booze,” she told me.
I sighed and struggled to my feet, swaying slightly as I got accustomed to being vertical. Another ringing added to the sounds of the night. I looked at Bex. Her boss must really be pissed. She didn’t move and stared at me.
“Lilmeister, that’s yours,” she informed me with a grin.
“Oh, right,” I muttered, rifling through my bag.
Because I was flustered and drunk, I didn’t even look at the number, which I would have screened at this moment, had I been a smidgeon more sober. Alas, I wasn’t, and I didn’t understand the logistical nightmare of chatting to my protective, whatever he was, while navigating a crowded party, severely wasted.