Page 6 of Alonzo

“You heard me.”

“But… you hate cam dates.”

I don’t hate cam dates. I fucking love cam dates. But up until now I didn’t want her to see too much of me, so it was my least preferred option. I am nothing like the man she sees on her phone screen. I’m not some boring accountant. I’m a hot fucking fisherman.

Which is kind of ironic, since I’ve been catfishing her for two years now.

“Answer on the first ring this time.”

“Maybe I won’t answer at all. Ever think of that?”

“If you don’t answer, Tara, I will get on a plane, fly up to Fort Collins, walk into that library, push you against the nearest stack of books, and fuck your brains out in front of all those housewives. I’ll fuck you so hard and so thoroughly you’ll be screaming my name for the entire town to hear. And then I’ll turn you around, bend you over, push you face first into those books, and come all over your ass.”

She lets out a breath. “One of these days I’m going to hang up, never answer your calls again, and wait for you to hunt me down and fuck me thoroughly.”

The call drops.

And I can’t help it. I smile.

I don’t really know Tara Tanner. Hell, she could be pretending to be a librarian the way I’m pretending to be an accountant. But if she is, she’s certifiably insane. If this version of Tara is a lie, she lives it like the truth. If I find out one day that this girl is really someone else, I will run so far, so fast. Because I am the most suspicious person on this fucking planet. I did three background checks on her. I sent a private investigator up to Colorado to take pics of her in the wild. I stalked all her social media for months. Not much action on there. But it’s her face on the profile pic that says Tara Tanner.

No. I don’t really know her.

But I know I want her. And right now I want more than phone sex.

I pull her contact, press FaceTime, and send.

She picks up on the first ring. Not in her car, anymore. But in a bathroom stall.

“Please tell me you’re in the library.” My voice is rough and husky with this idea.

She puts a finger up to her lips. “Shhhh. Quiet, please. People are reading.”

I whisper, “Oh, sunshine. I think you got the wrong idea. Nothing about this will be quiet.” I have to adjust my scenario a little to accommodate the new setting, but that’s OK. I kinda like thinking dirty on the fly. “Lean up against the door. Hike your skirt up. Pull your panties down to your knees, stick your fingers between your legs, and hold the phone far enough away so I can see.”

She squints at me. “What are you wearing? Is that… a t-shirt?”

“Shhh. People are reading, Tara.”

She shoots me a funny look. She’s never seen me in a t-shirt. But the t-shirt can wait. Everything except phone-fucking can wait now. I’m thoroughly intrigued with her library bathroom stunt.

“I hope you brought earbuds, baby. Because I won’t be whispering.”

“Lonnie—” She sounds a little bit panicked. “I’ll put you on mute if—”

“You will do no such thing. Find the earbuds.”

I know she has them. This might be our first library bathroom cam fuck, but it’s not our first rodeo. And sure enough, the camera shot goes sideways as she rustles them up, plugs them in, and sticks them in her ears.

“Happy now?” She’s still whispering. And this just turns me on. She’s really in the library bathroom. I can’t fucking believe it.

“Now do as I said. Hike your skirt up. Pull your panties down to your knees, stick your fingers between your legs, and hold the phone far enough away so I can see.”

“What are you going to do? Just sit there and watch?”

“Oh, I’m gonna watch. But so are you.”

“What?”