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Monday, November 19, 2012

Phone Sex

The phone ringing startled Claire. She wasn't asleep. She was lounging in a tub full of hot, sudsy water. Her eyes had been closed, and she had been lounging against the back of the tub when the phone had begun to ring. Her eyes snapped open at the second ring, and she glanced to her left.

"Damn!" she said aloud, cursing that she had to get out of the tub to get the phone which stood on the vanity. She clicked the cordless on. "Hello?"

"You busy?"

"Busy? No...occupied, yes, but not busy."

Silence.

"Never too busy or occupied for you."

"What're you doing?"

"Taking a bath," she replied, settling back down into the warm, fragrant water.

And sure enough, he could hear the lapping sounds the water made.

"Pity you're not here to do my back for me."

"I can be there in under 30 minutes."

She laughed that musical laugh of hers, and it made him smile. "Water'd be cold by then, Jack."

"Always so practical," he said, his mood lightening. He'd been in a dark mood all day, inexplicably, and had been a semi-asshole to everyone, including Claire. Sitting at home that night, working on a brief, he'd come to a page in his notes to which Claire had added some notes of her own, and she suddenly sprang to the forefront of his mind. First, it was her smiling face he saw, then the vision of her bent over her desk working diligently flashed before him, and finally, his mind projected the way she had looked when he'd last seen her, several hours before, and it dawned on him, as it had not then, that she had been disappointed, despite protestation to the contrary, when he'd turned down her offer of a drink

Thankfully, she was acting as if he hadn't been in a piss-poor mood all day, hadn't given her, and everyone else, a tremendous amount of attitude.

Of course, he realized that she knew full well, by now, that these moods occurred every so often, that they had nothing to do with her. Knew by now, also, how to recognize these moods, backing off until they passed.

And yet, she'd invited him out...knowing he'd either say no or say yes, but stay just as locked in his mood, distancing himself from her. And she'd been disappointed when he'd begged off. He'd realized what a boar he'd been, that she must have needed him for something, and felt guilty. And so he'd picked up the phone and dialed her number.

"I take it you're not feeling the need to bite my head off anymore," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Babe, I .... Look...I...I'm sorry.... can we just...forget today?"

"I'd like nothing more."

They went silent for a moment.

"Still want that drink?" he asked.

"It's late, Jack."

"Are you angry with me?"

"No...no...I just wish I knew what brings these moods on."

"So do I, Claire...so do I."

"I love you, Jack," she said impulsively. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, not by a long shot, but it seemed to come out of the blue in their current conversation.

Taken slightly aback by the sudden force of her words, it was a full heartbeat before the familiar glow these particular words spoken by Claire always produced hit him. "I love you, too," he replied.

He heard her pull the plug from the drain, heard the water splashing a bit as she stood.

"Water getting cold?"

"Yep....and my skin is pruning. Hang on a sec while I dry off."

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, picturing how she must look at the moment, the suds from her bubble bath sluicing down her body as she rose, her hair in a bun revealing her long neck and elegant shoulders. He felt his groin stir, recalling the many times he'd held the towel that dried her glistening skin. The ache he experienced in his chest when he couldn't be with her was magnified by his physical desire.

"Hey..." she said after a few moments.

"Now what're you doing?"

"Snuggling beneath the covers watching Lucy give herself a bath on the foot of my bed...talking to you."

He remembered, suddenly, what had made him call her this night.

"Claire... did...was something bothering you tonight? I get the feeling something was...and I feel like an ass for not recognizing it at the time."

She hadn't expected this question. "I just... I miss you lately. I wanted to be with you tonight, that's all."

"I wouldn't have been very good company until about 10 minutes ago."

"What happened 10 minutes ago?"

He shrugged, which he realized was stupid, because they were on the phone. "Just came to my senses."

Jack got up from the table and moved to his sofa. He reached for the remote control and clicked on the television. The news was on, but he engaged the mute function so that he could merely watch the flickering images as he spoke to Claire.

"Are you going to impose some form of penance on me for today?" he asked, only half-joking.

"I think you're probably penitent enough," she said, "But if you disagree, I think I can come up with something."

"I'll bet," he laughed.

They fell silent for a few moments, and then Claire said, "So...you know what I'm doing...what are you doing right now?"

"If I said I were molding your image out of blocks of butter would you believe me?"

Claire snorted.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Make sure you wash your hands, after...wouldn't want you ruining your furniture."

"I'm watching the news without sound....it's just about over....not that I'm paying much attention...I'm not a lip-reader."

The credits began to roll on the news, and so Jack began to flip through the channels as he and Claire continued to talk. He settled on HBO. Late night HBO. Erotica HBO, and, to slight displeasure, he lost what it was Claire was saying to him.

"Jack?"

When she called his name a second time, he said, "Hmmm?"

"Must be something pretty damn interesting on the news."

"What? Oh...no....I changed the channel."

"Playboy channel?"

"You know me so well," he laughed. "Turn on HBO."

"'Kay," she said. She uncovered, got out of bed, and crossed to the armoire opposite the foot of the bed.

Opening the doors, she revealed a 19-inch television. When she returned to her bed, she withdrew the remote control from the drawer in the bedside table and clicked the TV on. It was 2 women sitting in what appeared to be a Parisian sidewalk cafe.

"What is this?"

"Just keep watching," he told her.

A waiter approached to take their order. He spoke English with a very thick French accent. One of the women sized him up. The way he was looking back at her, it was clear the interest was mutual.

The acting wasn't very good. "What the hell have you got me watching?" she teased.

"Patience, my dear."

Cut to the waiter leaving from work, running into the two women, who had waited for his shift to end. He had changed his clothes, and his thick blonde hair was still mussed, and when he met the two of them in the street, he offered the one, a pretty, petite redhead, a tour of Paris. Her friend accepted for her, and she went of with the French waiter.

Cut to cheesy, over-stylized montage (and Jack and Claire laughing together at the cheesy, over-stylized montage) of the two of them around Paris...the infatuation growing in both.

Cut to him opening the door of his apartment for her, and the two of them stepping in. He poured them a glass of wine and turned on some low jazz music. He asked her to dance, and they pressed their bodies together and sway. It wasn't very long before the were kissing passionately and pawing furiously.

With this, Claire's attention perked up. The two people on the television, named Phillipe and Ashley, may not have been very good actors, but they were very definitely attractive . . . and the site of them beginning to make love, in light of the fact that she and Jack had not been together intimately very often of late, was more than a little exciting.

She felt her throat going dry as the man peeled the straps of the woman's dress down, baring her breasts upon which the camera zoomed in as her partner bent his head to flick his tongue across a nipple.

Jack, in jest, let out a low whistle.

"They're fake, Jack" Claire informed him.

He laughed.

The young Parisian picked up his partner and strode into his bedroom, laying her out flat and pulling the thin summer dress, top now around her waist, down over her thighs and tossed it to the floor, removing his own partially unbuttoned shirt before joining her on the bed.

"As long as they're not talking," said Claire, "this movie isn't so bad."

"I'm not complaining."

Another quick cut and the two beautiful forms on the television were naked and quite merrily fucking, making noises that sounded so close to the real thing that, for a moment, Claire wasn't sure if they weren't just simulating sex.

"Jack....d’ya suppose they're really..."

"No...not in an HBO production...if the were, they'd have crossed the line from erotica to porn and we'd have been charged $6.95 for the pleasure of viewing for a few hours."

They fell silent again as the scene cut once more, revealing the couple in a new position; she lay sprawled against the matters, fondling her own breasts as her new lover buried his head between her thighs.

Jack was becoming quite aroused by the erotic vignette playing out on the television. He felt the pressure tighten in his groin and shifted as he sat on the sofa. Claire, too, began to feel a tightening in her stomach, realized it was just as much from the fact that she was on the phone with Jack -- both of them watching these two people make love to one another, both knowing that the other wished just as much that they were together, doing what this couple was doing, rather than simply sharing a voyeuristic encounter -- as it was from watching what it was she was watching.

When Ashley was riding Phillipe, her body moving sensuously up and down on him, head thrown back and a look of pure ecstasy on her face, Claire decided she couldn't stand to watch much more of this. She hadn't been so excited by viewing someone else's sexuality since the time she and Jack had gone to interview witnesses at a sex club.

She realized her heart had sped up and she had begun to breathe heavily, as had Jack on the other end, and she began to laugh, low.

"What?"

"We sound like a couple of heavy breathers prank calling one another."

Jack chuckled at this. "You doing okay?"

"Define 'okay'?"

"I'll rephrase," said Jack, slipping down lower into the couch and switching the phone to the other ear. "How are you feeling?" He asked the question because he knew the effect the show was having on him, and he was curios to see if it was having the same effect on Claire.

She smiled to herself. She knew full well he was asking her if this programmed was making her horny, and she wanted to see how far she could push him before he came right out and asked her. The answer was that though the show wasn't arousing her --she'd been wanting to be intimate with Jack for several days, but stress and long work hours hadn't permitted it -- it certainly was making her regret more and more that she'd told Jack it was too late at night for him to take her up on that offer of a drink. She silently cursed herself for a fool. Jack could have been there by now --they'd have stayed in for the drink -- and they could have been doing, rather than watching.

"How am I feeling in what sense?" she said seriously while smiling on her end of the line.

"Is this exciting you?"

"That didn't take long," she mused to herself. She had expected it to take him a few more minutes before he asked for what he was after. And now that he'd asked, she could feel a blush staining her cheeks.

"Some."

"Some?"

"Why ... is it ... does it excite you?"

He nodded, which she of course couldn't see. "Yes."

Phillipe and Ashley were finished and Ashley's voice in a voice-over told them that once she'd left Paris, she and Phillipe had lost contact ... but that she had cherished her fling with the young Parisian. The show ended tritely, with Ashley, still in a voice-over, saying "I know now why they call Paris the "city of love'." Both Jack and Claire had a laugh at that.

Claire clicked the television set off and snuggled down further into her covers.

"Do you watch late night HBO often, Jack?"

He laughed. "Every night...even when you're here...once you're asleep I go out to the living room for a little soft-core porn."

"Wake me up next time, Buck-o."

"So you like late night HBO?"

"I've seen worse," she said.

"Slippery," he said. "Good answer."

Brazenly, she said, "I'd have liked it more if you'd been watching it here with me...not on a phone."

"Yeah? Why, pray tell?"

"You know why."

Something about that made him smile. And then he decided that perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea... because now here they were, aroused, desiring each other, blocks and blocks and blocks apart. He knew he could take care of himself, but the idea didn't seem satisfying because it wasn't merely the orgasm he was after...he wanted Claire.

"Jack?"

"Hmmm?"

"Come over."

"I thought you said it was late?"

"I came to my senses."



*****

Claire changed out of her flannel pajama bottoms and T-shirt and into her satin robe while she waited for Jack. She was high on adrenaline, had a lot of tense, nervous energy, becoming more excited with each passing moment, and so she set about adding a bit of 'romance' to her bedroom to keep herself occupied: some scented candles strategically placed, a bottle of red wine and some glasses...a little soft music, and then she planted herself, feet tucked underneath her, on the sofa to wait for Jack.

Less than 20 minutes later Jack was knocking on her door. She hurried to let him in. She checked the peep-hole before opening: sure enough, it was Jack. He carried his jacket through one arm, both hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Land Shark" he said when she opened the door.

"Christ, Jack! How many traffic laws did you break on your way over here?"

"Enough," he told her, smiling as he advanced on her, moving past her into the foyer as she shut the door.

She took his coat from him and moved to hang it in the closet in the entry-way, but he came up behind her and took it from her and hung it on the door knob.

"You could've been hurt...you should be more careful," she said as he spun her around so that they were toe to toe, bodies mere inches apart.

"Couldn't get here fast enough," he said just before he took her into his arms, lifted her slightly and crushed his lips against hers.

Claire wrapped one leg around so that her foot hooked against Jack's shin as he held her tightly to him, their kiss growing deeper, consuming them. Jack growled in the back of his throat and let Claire slide down his body. She tugged his polo shirt from his jeans and drew it up over his head and they were kissing again, arms wrapped tightly around each other at first, until hands grew more bold, more fevered, and began to explore, roaming without aim, touching everywhere. Jack sank to his knees and tugged at the belt to Claire's robe, let the garment fall open but did not remove it, or open it further. He just leaned in and kissed her flat stomach, just above the line of her thin cotton panties.

His hands dropped to her calves and she felt him running them lightly up the backs of her legs, the backs of her thighs --when he reached her behind he stopped and began to gently rub the smooth globes with his palms, feeling the heat of her skin through the flimsy fabric of her underwear, looking up at her all the while.

Looking down at Jack as he began to slide her panties down her legs, staring into his deep brown eyes, Claire forgot all about the prep work she'd done on her bedroom. She sank to her knees in Jack's arms and he reached into her robe to fondle her breasts, fingering her tingling nipples, already formed into taut peaks as they began to kiss once more. Claire reached between them and Jack felt her tugging at his belt, getting it undone, moving on to the fly of his jeans, manipulating the button and lowering the zipper. Jack sighed deeply.

Claire pushed his jeans and boxers down to his thighs in one long, fluid motion, freeing his pulsating organ. They wrapped their arms tightly once more as their tongues began a slow, teasing dance. Claire could feel the heat of Jack's arousal pressing against her pelvis. She wanted him, God! how she did! She'd known it earlier when she'd invited him for the drink. She forgot all about that when Jack bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth even as he slid a hand down over Claire's stomach, and lower, until he was resting his palm between her thighs, savoring the warmth radiating from her body for several heartbeats before his fingers began to press insistently against her. Soon, Claire was whimpering from the pleasure Jack gave her, begging for more, moaning softly as he slipped first one, and then another of his fingers into her. Simulating the love rhythm with his fingers, Jack quickly had Claire highly sensitized.

Jack lost all self-control when he felt Claire contract and release around his fingers. He lay her down against the rug in the foyer and was over her instantly, lavishing her face with gentle kiss as he positioned himself and slid slowly into her, her back arching to ease his way as he thrust slowly forward and down, sinking into her all-consuming warmth.

He wanted to be gentle, but the pleasure of being inside her after several days, after their phone conversation and all the things he'd thought of doing to her on his way to her apartment were too much for Jack, and he began thrusting swiftly in and out of her, kissing her neck, beneath her chin, her mouth, longingly, as he drove into her with increasing ardor. He thought he was going to expire from the extreme pleasure of it all when, moaning softly and alternately calling his name, Claire wrapped her long, smooth legs around his slim waist and thrust back up against him, pulling him deeper into her.

She kissed him, nibbling on his lips, then licking at them, and crushed them against his once more, taking his tongue into her mouth to play cat and mouse with her own, until, unable to draw a breath, they tore their heads away. In a minute, they were kissing again, lips pulling at each other.

She continued kissing him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer, whispering against his lips, encouraging him to increase their already frantic pace until they were both swept up and over the precipice, finding their release in unison, crying out loudly as they clung together, their bodies convulsing as one.

Jack lay atop her for some moments, spent, though not thoroughly sated by the encounter. He knew he had it in him to go again, in a few minutes, but first they had to be able to get up off the floor and make it down the hall to Claire's room: if they were to make love again, after the force and intensity of the passion they'd just shared, Jack knew they'd be too exhausted to get up and move.

Claire welcomed his weight on her and held him close, even as he began to rise, pulling her up with him. When they were on their feet, Jack yanked up his pants, and Claire loosely re-tied her robe. Taking Jack's hand, she led him down the hall to her room.

He gasped at the glow of the half-burned candles: he'd expected nothing even remotely like this.

"Babe, I'm sorry," he said, squeezing her hand and pulling her back against him so that he could drape his arms around her and splay his fingers out across her abdomen. He kissed her neck softly and said, "If I'd known you had gone to such trouble, I'd have held back until we were in here. You should've said something."

"'s alright, Jack," she said languidly, her body still feeling like a thick liquid had permeated her veins.

"I feel like a boar...you wanted romance and I gave you..."

"An incredible amount of pleasure," she told him, turning and snaking her arms up around his shoulders, "Don't worry about it, Jack...to tell you the truth...once you were here and I was in your arms I forgot all about the candles."

He leaned back, clasping his hands against the small of her back, and cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I only lit the candles to amuse myself while you were on your way over here."

"A little nervous energy?"

"You might say that," she smiled. "Want some wine?"

He nodded and released her. "I'll pour it."

He picked the bottle up from her bedside table and filled each glass half full. Turning, he found Claire sitting Indian-style in the middle of her bed. He handed her a glass, sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks, and joined her, sitting next to her, his body turned in her direction, propping himself up with one arm as he looked over the rim of his wine glass at Claire, who was staring back at him over the rim of hers.

Holding their glasses against their chests, then leaned into a kiss.

"Mmmm...love you," whispered Claire, stroking Jack's face with her free hand.

"Love you, too."

They sipped their glasses of wine back quickly, draining the first glass and the subsequent ones Jack poured them with very little conversation in between time, instead, quietly looking at one another, something akin to wonder on their face.

They drank down a third glass, and had a nice buzz going. Jack set the empty glasses next to the bottle on the night table and positioned himself on his knees in front of Claire.

"Now that you've liquored me up," he teased, "You realize you're going to have to let me stay the night?"

"I suppose I'll have to live with the inconvenience."

"I'll earn my keep."

"Damn right, you will," she told him, sliding her hands forward to rest on his sides, above the waistband of his jeans. "And you know what?"

"What's that?" he asked watching as her hands slipped forward over his stomach and she began to manipulate the button and zipper of his jeans.

"You can start right now."

His eyebrow shot up. "My pleasure," he said as he stood and removed his pants and boxers, tossing them in the direction of her over-stuffed easy chair.

"You sure you're up to this?" she teased, indicating his semi-hardened phallus.

"Give me a coupla minutes and I'll make you eat those words. For now, I've got other plans for you" he said, advancing slowly across the bed toward her. Suddenly, he had hold of one of her ankles and he was yanking it toward him, pulling her out of her cross-legged position and at the same time laying her flat out against the mattress.

Jack straddled her slender frame and pinned her arms above her head, attacking the leaping vein at the base of her neck with his lips. Holding her wrists together against the mattress with one hand, he slipped the other between her knees, and stroking up her inner-thigh, sought out her female softness, caressing the tender flesh lightly, eliciting a low moan from Claire, any thought of protest at his sudden 'attack' lost as he fondled her gently.

Her eyes snapped open when his hand released hers and he stopped pleasuring her. He kissed her lips lightly, then reached to undo the belt of her robe, peeling the sides back and moving backward, pulling her up slightly and helping her out of the robe, then laying her back down and moving lower. He eased her thighs apart and gripped her waist, planting a kiss below her navel before lowering his head and seeking her core with his tongue. She arched her back and reached to rest her hand against the back of his head, pressing lightly. He began to suckle upon Claire's swollen womanly jewel and a cry escaped her, a cry that turned into a series of cries as he increased the strength of his mouth on her.

He moved upward suddenly, capturing a nipple between his lips as a hand moved to massage the pearl of her womanhood with his thumb. Claire reached up and took Jack's still only partially hardened organ in her hand, pulling lightly, sliding her hand forward and back, squeezing softly, feeling it begin to expand almost instantly. Jack groaned above her as he adjusted himself to suckle upon her other nipple. A few exquisite moments passed thusly, until, without warning, Claire pushed Jack onto his back and straddled his legs. He looked at her quizzically.

"My turn," she told him as she slid backward, pushing his legs apart and massaging the insides of his thighs with her hands. She bent to kiss the soft indentation where his legs met his groin area. Jack sighed deeply; that was something she'd never done before, kissing him there, even though she had on any number of occasions loved him with her mouth. She licked the soft flesh there before running her tongue over his sensitive scrotum. Taking his growing erection into her hand, she began to stroke up and down vigorously, continuing the tender ministrations of her tongue until he was hot and rock hard in her hand.

Shifting upward, she took him into her mouth and imitated the action of her hand. She reached to cup his testicles in her hand, massaging them with her thumb as her mouth moved steadily up and down, the other hand gripping the base of his shaft. She began pumping with her hand as she drew her head back to run her tongue around the swollen tip of his erection, tonguing then sucking hard as one hand stroked him to near crisis while the one gently fondling his scrotum kept him suspended between a state of extremely agitated arousal and blissful satisfaction.

"Mmmmm, God, babe...that's so good..." he groaned, his hips beginning to work up and down in time with her mouth and hands. "Oh, Jesus...God, Claire," he whispered, his voice strangled.

For her part, Claire was enjoying herself immensely, becoming further aroused herself as she kept Jack hanging, always just about to topple into the abyss of sexual release without ever allowing him to do so. She gloried in the sounds Jack emitted, in his groans and sighs, and in his breathless words, praising her skills and encouraging her onward.

When she was aware of the fact that she could push him no further without his achieving orgasm, she drew her head away and smiled at Jack, who lay gasping.

"God!" he exclaimed, breathless. "Cruel," he teased, breath still coming in short gasps.

Claire moved up his body until she was straddling his abdomen, his stiff, aching shaft standing tall behind her. She took Jack's hands when he reached for her breasts and drew them back, threading her fingers through his, and pinned his arms to the mattress. "I'm not the one who has to earn her keep," she said, her eyes dancing in the candlelight.

"True," he said, overcoming the strength in Claire's arms.

Without warning, Claire was on her back and Jack was over her, thrusting forward, guiding his throbbing member into her in one swift, smooth thrust. Claire gasped her pleasure and soon they were moving together. After a few ecstatic moments, Claire pushed him away, breaking their connection.

Somewhat confused, Jack's eyes came open and he looked at her questioningly. "What's wrong?" he asked, voice strangled.

"I wanted to try something," she said, panting. She drew her legs up so that her knees were at chest level and said softly, "Come into me, now."

He was over her again, pressing himself down over her, his chest resting against the backs of her thighs, her ankles against his shoulders, and slid into her, both of them crying out softly as Jack was buried in her more deeply than he had ever been before.

"Oh, God," he whispered as he began to move, seemingly independent of his volition, pumping steadily in and out of her.

"Mmmm, yessss....oh, Jack...yesss..." Claire moaned again and again, Jack calling her name above her as he began to pump harder and faster into her, thrusting deep and steady until Claire's body began to convulse. He felt her contracting around him, squeezing his pulsating manhood so that he groaned deep and low in the back of his throat.

He slid back, still hard as a rock, and moved Claire's legs to his sides, pushing forward again, sliding into her still quivering depths, her moans growing louder as the spasms subsided and Jack was moving in her again, moving in her still. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing her knees up slightly and clasping her ankles around his flanks.

Jack dipped his head to kiss her neck and suddenly he was moaning, moaning deep and long, his stomach tightening and releasing as his body began to shake and he called Claire's name as he emptied himself into her. Claire cried her pleasure a second time as Jack collapsed against her, and they both lay spent, clinging to each other as they attempted to regain control of their breathing, of their straining hearts.

Claire softly kissed Jack's damp forehead and he was able to roll from her, barely, so that one arm and leg were still draped languidly across her body. Claire lovingly stroke Jack's arm and shoulder, her heart still beating hard. After a moment she shivered, both from the remembrance of what had just passed, and from the air, now cool against their damp skin. Jack, difficult though it was, reached down and pulled the covers up and over them, resuming the position he'd just left.

"Want me to get up and blow out the candles?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"No ... stay with me," she said softly, "Just let them burn down."

She felt him nod against her shoulder as her eyes began to close. They were both exhausted from their intense encounter, and Jack, too, began to feel sleep descending.

Claire began to laugh softly, eyes still closed.

"What?" he asked, voice not much above a whisper.

"We're ridiculous sometimes."

"What? Why?" He had no clue what she was talking about.

"First you turn me down...then I turn you down... and we still end up making love on my foyer floor because we're too hot for each other to make it to someplace more comfortable. And then again in my bed."

"We get it right eventually," he said, "That's what matters."

"I love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too."

They kissed lightly for a few moments and then snuggled into each other, and, after some moments, drifted off into a sated, content sleep.

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