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“Me too,” she says.
“Baby, I’m coming,” I say when my orgasm builds so quickly, I didn’t even see it coming. “Oh, God. Yes,” I say as I stroke fast and hard until I can’t anymore, and I crash back against the pillow with my palm still cupping my own pussy.
“I want to scream your name,” I say to her.
“I want you to always scream my name when you come,” she tells me.
“God, this is definitely crossing the line,” I say.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Tomorrow night?” she says.
“Yes?”
“Will you tell me your name? Your real name?” she asks.
“Will you tell me yours?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Did you come?”
“Not yet,” she replies.
“Oh, babe. How hard are you right now?” I ask, cupping myself a little harder.
“Very.”
“Come for me, then,” I say. “And I’ll tell you my name tomorrow night.”
Then, I listen for a few more minutes until she comes and I hear her perfectly sexy sounds and picture her perfectly sexy face how it always looks when she comes. When we hang up, I make the reservation. I text her the hotel information, and we keep texting all night. I find myself laughing at her replies. We come again, texting back and forth dirty messages that get me too turned on to sleep unless I placed my vibrator where I needed it. She tells me she comes, too, but I have no way of knowing if that’s true or not. I finally say goodnight via text when it’s actually morning, and I know I’ll get to see her in about twelve hours.
???
I arrive at the hotel early and head to the desk to check in. They give me my key card and tell me they’ve got the champagne chilling in my room for me as well as the wine and strawberries I’ve requested. I thank them and turn around to nervously wait for her to arrive. Right on the dot, she walks into the lobby, looking sexy and gorgeous. She’s wearing a pair of steel-gray dress slacks and a navy button-down that she’s left untucked. Her hair is a little longer than it was the last time I saw her, but not by much. She talks to the man standing there as she looks around, confused. I know why. I told her I would text her the room number, and I didn’t. She doesn’t even have my name to give the man to find me. I decided I wanted to meet her down here first. I swallow hard as I walk over from the side.
“Are you waiting for me?”
She turns to me and says, “I found her.”
Yes, yes, she did, I think to myself. I walk up a little closer.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello,” she replies.
“You look nice,” I tell her.
“You look beautiful,” she says. “You always do, though.”
I smile and say, “I thought we could grab dinner in the restaurant first. Is that okay?”
“Dinner?” she asks.
I worry.
