When the Phone Rings in the Middle of the Night . . .

Therese had just finished brushing her teeth when the phone rang. Eleven p.m. calls are never good news, she worried, her heart in her throat, as she ran to find her cell. Her parents weren’t getting any younger, and by the time she located her phone, she had convinced herself something truly terrible had happened. Her concern only grew when she picked it up and saw it was her husband. It’s the middle of the night in London, she thought anxiously.

“Hello,” she said, with more than a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“Nice to hear you, too, darling,” came Gerard’s sarcastic reply. “Am I interrupting something?”

“What? No. I mean, are you okay? What time even is it there?” asked Therese. “Nothing good comes of phone calls at this hour.”

“Funny you should say that,” Gerard’s baritone was even more gravelly than usual, “but I woke up just now with with a problem only you can help me solve.”

“Me? What kind of problem do you have that you think I can solve from here? Surely there’ll be someone there who can help you in the morning.”

“I don’t think you’d like it very much if I took my problem to someone else, Therese,” he laughed. “Besides, it’s a very hard problem.”

“Gerard, I still don’t think I can do anything . . ."

“Love,” sighed Gerard, interrupting her. His voice dropped to a whisper, “Listen to me carefully. I’ve just awakened from a dream with a very hard problem, and only you will do.”

“Oh,” said Therese quietly, the meaning of Gerard’s double entendre finally dawning on her. “So this is one of those, ‘What are you wearing?’ phone calls?”

When they were separated for long periods of time as they currently were, she and Gerard occasionally engaged in some frisky texting, but rarely in anything even approaching phone sex — Therese’s general uncomfortableness on the phone all but precluded that. So she was somewhat surprised that Gerard responded, “I’d like it to be.”

“Um, okay, I guess. You’re going to have to do most of the talking, you know.“ She could feel herself blushing even though Gerard couldn’t see her.

“I generally do,” said Gerard. Therese wasn’t very good at talking dirty in bed, either, although she certainly enjoyed being on the receiving end of Gerard’s sexy murmurs. “What are you wearing?” he asked, only somewhat tongue-in-cheek.

“Har, har,” responded Therese. “T-shirt and jeans, same as always.” “You in your jammies?”

“Therese, please don’t be silly. Besides, what I’m wearing isn’t important. This is all about what I want to do to you,” replied Gerard. “Since I can’t actually touch you, you’re going to have to be my hands, okay? Will you do that for me?”

Gerard was once again taking her out of her comfort zone, but Therese nodded to herself and said, “Yes.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Do you want to FaceTime?”

“No. It’s far better to use our imaginations. Just play along, okay?” Gerard practically pleaded.

“All right,” Therese assented.

“God, how I miss your body,” said Gerard, the burr in his voice growing more pronounced. “I want to put my hands on your breasts. Circle my fingers closer and closer to your nipples.”

“Mmm,” she responded as she imagined Gerard’s large, warm hands on her, and — though she was a bit self-conscious even alone in their bedroom — she began to caress herself in response to his instruction.

“Take off your shirt,” he commanded. “I love the weight of your tits in my hands,” Gerard continued, “how your nipples respond when I touch them with my fingers . . . my lips . . . my teeth . . ."

Therese briefly wondered how she was supposed to incorporate those instructions into her touches, but she kept stroking herself as Gerard continued, “and I really love how hard my cock gets when I slide it between them.” She imagined Gerard teasing them both by running his stiffening shaft through the valley between her breasts, starting off merely erect, but becoming completely engorged.

“We need to get you out of those jeans. I want to put my hands all over you, and follow them with my mouth,” Gerard said. Therese shimmied out of her jeans. “Panties, too.”

“Feel my touch across your stomach, and then that glorious curve where your waist hits your hips and that amazing ass.” Therese began to breathe more deeply as she traced the line he described across her body, shivering as she found herself completely engrossed in the fantasy, waiting to see where Gerard’s imagination would take them next.

“I love how warm it is inside your thighs,” he almost whispered, his voice growing husky with need. “I want to take my cock and rub it down one thigh and up the other until we’re both practically mad with desire.” Therese’s hand moved lower from her hip to her thighs, following the path of Gerard’s voice.  

“Are you wet for me?”

Her reverie was interrupted by his query. “Oh, yes,” she breathed into the phone. “I want you so badly.”

“Good, because I want to taste you. Take your finger and run it inside your pussy, just like I would my tongue.”

Therese obliged him, and felt her hips lift gently toward her hand, just as she always pressed closer to Gerard’s mouth when he went down on her. “Can you feel my tongue in your slit, and on your clit? Heh. I’m an X-rated poet,” Gerard sounded amused with himself. Therese moved her finger back and forth between the two, growing wetter and more excited with each stroke.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, “I want you inside me.”

“Then spread your legs, one hand on your clit, and put your other fingers in your pussy,” came Gerard’s instruction.

“Oh, fuck,” Therese exhaled, uncharacteristically swearing as she did what she was told to do. She had never touched herself like this before, and the pleasure it produced was overwhelming.

“Are you spread?”

Therese could only sigh in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Gerard chuckled. “Find that spot, you know, the one inside that swells when my cock brushes it.” Therese knew exactly what spot he was talking about, the one her only previous partner had completely ignored, and which Gerard had taken it upon himself to find the very first time they made love. It only took her a moment to find that tender and swollen place.

“Now glide your fingers over that spot, while you continue to caress yourself on the outside. Since I can’t be there to fuck you, I need you to do it for me.”

Within seconds, the timbre of Gerard’s voice, combined with her own ministrations, produced in Therese a powerful, shuddering orgasm. Unable to speak, she just breathed deeply, letting the waves wash over her.

After what seemed an eternity, Gerard said, “Now hang up, and get some sleep. It’s almost midnight there.”

“How . . ." Therese began when Gerard interrupted her. “If you think after all this time I still don’t recognize how your breathing changes when you come, you’d better think again.”

“But what about you?” she managed to ask. “I thought we were solving your problem.”

“Where do you think my hand has been this entire time, silly girl? Now, goodnight my love,” Gerard said as he hung up. “I’ll see you in two very long weeks.”