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Published March 2, 2016


["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>He was falling in love with this woman. It was as simple and terrifying as that. Never mind the turn of her hips, or the swing of her long cinnamon hair, just her voice was enough to rearrange his organs.
“Luke, are you there?”
“Yeah, sorry. I mean, God, just the sound of your voice and I’m pretty much wrecked.”
He heard her shuffling in bed, the sounds of sheets and pillows rustling through the phone. “Really? Just my voice?”
“Don’t even start with me.” His voice came out more strident then he intended.
“Ooh. Bossy. I like it.”
Oh God. He’d kicked off his work shoes when he came in the front door and he was sitting on the edge of his low futon, his legs crossed in front of him. “You like bossy?” he asked as he settled himself back onto his pillows and stretched his legs down the length of the Japanese bed cover.
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I mean I liked it just then when you sounded bossy. I don’t know if I like bossy as a thing. Do you have a red room or something?”
He burst out laughing. “No, I don’t have a red room.” She laughed along with him until they both simmered down but he could hear from her breathy voice that getting sexy on the phone excited her.
Because he was a gentleman, he obliged her.
“Tell me what you’re wearing. And touch yourself as you describe it to me.”
“Oh, you know, I’m just…”
“And don’t pretend you stayed in your old gray T-shirt. You changed into something soft and silky while I was driving home, didn’t you?”
She inhaled and he felt his cock twitch in response.
“Yes,” she whispered.