His voice was like syrup, thick and sweet. It stirred something feral inside her. This longing ache to have his tongue coat her in that sticky lust of his kisses. The inflection in his voice, the catch in his tones and raspy breathes, and those whispers, she hung on every nuance, letting His words unravel her slowly and deliberately.
Her hand slid off her panties as his expressed thoughts trickled down her spine in shivers. Spreading her legs, her fingers were searching where his words took her mind.
The wet, soft folds of her flesh aching to be touched, to be taken, to be desired and worshipped....by him.
She let herself go completely, getting lost in the fantasy of them. Her lust spilled out in heated flesh as he took her again and again.
Her hand holding the phone trembling, her body shaking, sighs that became sobs of pleasure....undone in his passion, his love filled her in a warmth only he could give her as her lust and need of him dripped onto the floor.
The receiver held close in his words, the giver an echo sounding in the distance of the miles between them, yet she held him in her heart as thunder rolled throughout her body.
Then....She settled into a calm after the storm, the phone now hanging limp in her hand, her tongue that was stuck to the roof of her mouth licked over her parched lips, damn... she thought, and she smiled...
His voice, his words....Him, and he's hers.
