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THe stream of consciousness feel of the Professor Jack story is taking some work, so in the mean time, I thought I'd post another piece to share while I'm working on the new one:

Phone Fantasy
I'm restless tonight, terribly restless, my body aching for something I can't have. You're out of town, and although I understand I curse you for it in this moment when I want you, need you so keenly. I crawl into the cool sheets of our bed and try to sleep, but that oblivion is elusive. I watch, and as the hands of the clock creep slowly toward morning I give in to the desire to fantasize, to think of what I'd do with you, to you
tonight if you were here instead of far away in a nameless hotel room. The images form, soft around the edges, warm and liquid, and my body begins to heat. My hand begins to slip down my naked form to find the tender places between my thighs that are aching for your touch, but I pause, an idea forming in my head.

Its 1 AM but regardless of the time I scramble out of bed, collecting the cordless phone, and the small pad of paper where the number for your hotel is scrawled. I doodled little
hearts and flowers while I was talking to you earlier today--wouldn't it make you laugh to see them? I crawl back into the comfort of our bed, the wide four-poster had been an indulgence but one we've enjoyed in hundreds of ways (including sleep) since its purchase. Tonight we'll all share a new adventure.

I dial the phone number of your hotel, and ask the front desk clerk for your room. My body tingles with excitement and nerves as I hear it ring. You answer before it can ring a second time, and my heart flutters, hoping that in some corner of your mind you were waiting for this call.

"Hello?" Your voice is deep and rough. Just that one word sends shivers down my spine and makes my body ache to hold you.

"Hi baby. Were you sleeping?"

I can hear your smile even before you speak, "Chelle, God. I think
you've ruined me, I can't sleep without you." You chuckle softly,
laughing at us both and I join you, my fingers stroking the receiver as if it was your face instead of just your words.

"I miss you so much tonight love," I whisper across the wires and
whatever other sundry technology connects us across the miles. "I've been laying here for hours thinking of what we'd do if you were here. How I'd touch you. . . all the ways we'd make love tonight. If you were here."

I hear you quick intake of breath, and wonder for a moment how closely the images in your head mingle with mine "Chelle....tell me.....what would we do if I was there?"

I smile at your words, for this is why I called. What I wanted when I dialed your number. I close my eyes and let the scene form in my mind whispering to you, my voice growing deeper, more heavy with passion at the mere idea of having you-- to touch and to take and to be taken by you.

"I would have spent the afternoon setting the scene for us, fresh
sheets, fresh flowers, candles, your favorite wine. Then I'd dress for you. Sheer ivory lace. The nightie we picked out together on a weekend away not long ago...the one you said made you hard just looking at it. (Your growled... "Fuck" makes the muscles between my legs clench in response.) Over the top I slide the matching robe, and I smooth on the sheer creamy stockings knowing they're only purpose will be to give us both the pleasure of taking them off. When you got home I'd call you upstairs, sit you down on the wide velvet sofa and strip for you.....to slow, wicked jazz.....when I was naked, my skin glowing in the candle light I'd strip you too, trailing kisses over each new inch of bared skin. We'd share a glass of wine, me dipping my fingers in .....trailing them over your skin...licking it off....”

"God baby," you growl. "Now I'm sitting here in this fucking hotel room suffering the fate of a good imagination..."

I only smile at that, taking pleasure in knowing that my words arouse you, that you can see it as clearly as I can. I continue whispering, "Then I would take you to bed and make love to you....slowly the first time...drawing out every sigh...mine and yours...going to the edge pushing us both as close to it as I can without falling over..."

I hear the unmistakable sound of your zipper sliding down of you
wriggling out of your jeans and I know without asking that you're
touching yourself now as you listen to my words. I join you in your exploration slipping my fingers down between my thighs for the second time tonight, barely brushing the soft warm nether lips of my sex. I can hear your measured breathing, and maybe even, if I concentrate, the slide of your hand along your rigid flesh as the fantasy continues to unfold for both of us.

"Over and over I'd ride you, taking us both to the edge of out of
control, then pulling back...and starting again....until neither one of us could stand one more movement, one more caress, one more slow hot thrust without shattering...."

"You are an evil woman." There's a low grunt of pleasure following the words and I know the sound, having heard you make it countless times when it was my hand wrapped around you, stroking you.

"Just feel it I whisper," my breath catching as I stroke my fingertips over my clit. You chuckle softly, knowing now that we're doing this together; both of us using the substitute of our own touch to ease the ache of not being able to touch each other.

I giggle softly, “ I may be evil my lover, but I'm good...very very
good.......After I've pushed us both so far another stroke sends tears spilling down my cheeks and your hands fist on my hips, your seed spilling into me...after you've cum deep inside of me and felt me shatter around you as my orgasm goes through me, I'd take you to the shower, covering your mouth with melting hot kisses as we washed each other clean...each touch arousing us all over again...until you were hard and aching for me again. Then I'd sink to my knees and let the water flow over me while I sucked your cock..."

"Fuckkk..." I can definitely hear you stroking yourself now; just the sound drives me on, my own fingers slipping into my wet sex, stroking and imagining its you I can feel inside me. I can practically taste your cock, and I know you can all but feel my warm wet mouth closing around you as the water spills over your shoulders.

"I'd suck it until you were almost ready to cum for me...again....and then I'd pull back and grin....and you'd growl and pull me up....push me against the wall...and this time it wouldn't be slow...."

Our breathing is uneven now, our sighs mingled across the phone line. Both of us wanting, needing more. "No it wouldn't be slow..." you growl and I hear your strangled moan that means warm sticky precum is bubbling from the head of your shaft.

"No, " I pant, my voice thready as I struggle to hold off my own orgasm, wanting to cum with you and having so much more to tease us both with before we surrender to desire....."It would be fast and hard and desperate and I'd scream, my fingers clawing at the slippery tile as you took me...(I do cry out softly, pinching my clit, reveling in your answering moan as I continue) "You'd fuck me until I was limp and begging.....then we'd cuddle and kiss as we dried each other off....we'd crawl back into bed and I'd feed you sweet sliced fruit from a crystal dish and you'd lick the juice from my fingers...."

Our breathing evens a little as the lull in my fantasy allows both of our bodies to cool a little "Jesus, chelle...." You draw a deep ragged breath and I know your fingers have slowed slightly. I smile, my own fingers nestled deep in my sex, stroking minutely.

For a moment there's only our breathing and then I whisper, "Want to know the rest?"