It’s late on Thursday and I think about how just three days ago, I woke up snuggled in Ali’s arms. It seems like a lifetime ago. Camp has been uneventful and I’m back on laundry duty since I missed Monday. I don’t mind though. It allows me private time to be alone with my thoughts and whomever I choose to talk to at the moment. Right now, I’m folding clothes and it’s just me and Shakespeare discussing love sonnets and how his perspective is so much more eloquent than mine. The language five hundred years ago was powerful and expressive. It has since been slaughtered and abbreviated, and now we barely communicate as a society unless we use acronyms.
My phone rings and I realize it’s Ali on FaceTime. “Hi,” she says. Her smile fills up the screen. God, I love her mouth.
“Hi,” I say. “How was the concert?”
“It was good. I didn’t even screw up once.” I laugh because for the last two shows, Ali has slipped up on her guitar, and she blames me for her lack of attention. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m next door, finishing up the laundry. I’m basically done.” I scramble around and shut off the lights. I want to get back to the privacy of my own cabin. Not that anybody can hear our conversation, but I just want to be alone with her.
“Are you back in your cabin yet?” she asks. I nod as I shut the door. “I have an idea,” she says, her voice still low and her words slow.
“Okay…” I have no idea what she’s thinking, but based on the look she’s giving me, it’s going to be intense.
“Slip into bed,” she says. I give her a confused look and she elaborates. “Get comfortable. I want to tell you a story.”
I haven’t said no to her yet and I doubt I will. I smile and do what she asks, eager to hear what she’s going to tell me. A part of me thinks it will be sexual. Even during sex, her whispers were low. Incomplete thoughts, really. Hot, from what I can remember, but just words. I try to be calm, but I’m nervous in a good way. I slip under the covers.
“Once upon a time,” she says, and I laugh until I see her face and realize she’s serious. I stop smiling immediately and listen. She starts again. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful woman named Beth.”
I refrain from snorting.
“She worked at a camp during the summers, and one day she fell on her back in front of a visitor named Ali.”
Again, I refrain from snorting.
“Ali thought she was the prettiest woman she’d ever seen and made it her mission to get to know her better, but Beth avoided her the entire time,” she says. I give her a sad smile and she stops her story. “I’m glad we did get to know each other.” She’s serious again and I gulp. She can go from fun to intense in the blink of an eye. “The minute I touched you, I knew I wanted more. Our first kiss I wanted to devour you right there in the water.”
“I’m just glad you made the first move. I’m so bad at that,” I say.
“You’ve been so open with me, especially since we made love,” she says. “I can’t tell you how wonderful your honesty is.” I’m focusing on the words “making love,” because most of the time the sex was so intense and powerfully raw. I’ve been avoiding the word “love” because we’re so new and I’m trying to not make Ali my rebound girl. Not that I think she really means the word, it’s just that I’m word-sensitive, and it’s not a word I throw around lightly. I’m arguing with myself when I should be paying attention to her.
“Do you know what my favorite part about our weekend was?” she asks.
Yes, I want to know.
“The way you responded to my touch.” I want to moan. She continues. “You’re so passionate and you taste incredible. My memory of you, of us, gets me through every day.”
I’m on fire. Nobody’s ever been this candid with me. I have the urge to touch myself while she’s talking to me. Her raspy voice is driving me crazy. I miss her. I need her. I crave her. I try to secretly prop up the phone so I can free my hands, but I fail.
“What are you doing?” Ali asks. Apparently, my frustration’s evident.
“Um…nothing.”
“Really?” she asks, cocking her eyebrow. She knows. “I’ll tell you what. Let me change into my pajamas and I’ll call you right back. Thirty seconds or less.”
That’s not going to give me enough time to do what I want to do. I nod and hang up, sorry for the loss and feeling strangely empty. She calls me back within two minutes, and I wonder if two minutes would’ve been enough time. I suddenly perk up because now I don’t have to hold the phone out so we can see one another while we talk. I quietly slip out of my boxers.
“Where were we?” she asks. “Oh, yeah. I was telling you how much I miss your taste.” I close my eyes and slowly begin to touch myself. I bite my lip to keep from making any noises that’ll give me away. “I love how wet you are when we’re together and how you give yourself to me. You’re so warm and so tight, and I just wish I was inside you right now, slowly fucking you.” My eyes fly open with that. Holy crap! She’s never said anything like that to me before. It’s so animalistic. I move my fingers faster and harder, focusing on her voice and listening even harder to her words. “I wish you were right here next to me so I could touch you and hold you and bury myself in you. I miss sucking on your neck and feeling your nails on my back and my legs as you get closer and closer to coming.”
God, her voice is so low and sexy, and I’m going to explode. I hiss through my clenched teeth and hope I’m not so loud that she hears. She continues her verbal seduction and I come as quietly as I can. I’m pretty sure she knows what I just did because I can hear the smile in her voice as I come down from my sexual high. I’m a mixture of embarrassed and thrilled, and I want to giggle because I’ve never done this before. There’s no way I can return the favor. I would be a complete awkward mess, and I wouldn’t know what to say. I swear, when I hear my voice on a recording, I cringe because I sound like Minnie Mouse. I do not have a sexy voice. I can’t imagine it turning Ali on enough to masturbate.
“How are you, sweets?” she asks.
Fantastic! Wonderful! Incredible!
My breathing is still ragged and I try to control it. “I’m very good now.” I don’t tell her what I just did because she already knows, and she’s kind enough not to tease me or talk about it.
“I wish I was there right now,” she says. She doesn’t know how much I wish she was here, too. “You should probably get some sleep. Thank you for an incredible night.”
I wish I could kiss her. That’s always the best way to top off a delicious orgasm.